“The legendary Harrison Hayes,” Maxene Bohdum speaks into her ancient audio recorder. “Everything I’ve found after the incident where he allegedly tore out someone’s throat with his teeth leads me here: Happy Pig Commune.” She sets the recorder on the dashboard after parking on the side of the road. Maxene reaches down and massages her feet before putting her shoes back on. “The commune is owned by a widow, Rachel Seah. It’s been her home for twenty years now. She raises pigs, selling some to slaughterhouses and, more recently, the commune has also started growing cannabis for dispensaries across the United States.” Ms. Bohdum sits up and starts the engine. One arm hangs out the window cutting through the wind. “Happy Pig hosts a summer camp, which I am attending in hopes that I find Harrison and find what the bestseller is up to. Some rumors say despite his incident he’s still writing a new screenplay, an adaption of his break out novel. I intend to find out.” A long sigh escapes her lungs. “No clue where these rumors come from, but at the very least I’ll get a nice vacation from all of this.” With the car in drive, she cruises down the tree lined road toward a lone sign that reads: Happy Pig Commune.
Two strange men stand next to the sign. One is short and squat with a little potbelly; he wears overalls and a tank top both of unrecognizable color. The man sips from a flask stored in his front pocket. His friend is less dirty, not that the bar is set high. The second man is abnormally tall and meaty towering above his friend. His head is hung low squishing his nearly nonexistent neck into further oblivion. The large man carries numerous cans of paint hooked on his fingers; he is distracted by three birds fighting over some insects in mid-flight.
Maxene feels weird about coming to this place, but she also feels compelled. She needs to do this. Pushing the feelings aside she creeps up and she grabs the recorder setting it in her lap. She pulls to a squeaky halt. “Hi there,“ The small man turns around startled dropping his paint brush in the tall grass. “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you like that,“ The little man’s jaw drops as he stares holes through her, “Uh, I’m looking for Happy Pig. Is this the right way?” The short man’s head nods up and down mouth still wide open. She thanks them and drives onto the wooded drive. In the rearview mirror she can see the little man wake from his trance and stop his colleague from licking the paint from the brush like a lollipop.
Maxene breathes a sigh of relief. “That was weird, right?” The trees begin to thin out and the driveway becomes grass. Everything looks just like the pictures from her research. The trees along the side of the drive lead straight to an old farmhouse. Through the remaining foliage, Ms. Bohdum could make out shimmering surface of Pig Pond and cabins for the summer camp. A little further, she noted as she steps out of her vehicle, there is the pig pen and some yards away from that is a greenhouse, where Maxene only assumes they grow their marijuana.
A small platoon of Happy Pig employees stand at attention facing the farmhouse, where a woman is giving a pep talk. She stops as Maxene approaches; everybody else stares. The woman clears her throat. “It seems the first of our guests has arrived. To your chores and duties, everyone.” They disperse and she walks up to her visitor. Dirty blonde hair sits on a plump frame; blue eyes dart up and down studying Maxene.
“Sorry, I’m early. Thought I’d get lost and, well, gave myself too much time to get here.” She looks around at the near perfect summer day. “It’s beautiful here, thank you so much for having me.”
The blonde woman’s inquisitive expression suddenly changes and beams creating a well-practiced façade. “No, I should be thanking you! You paid to be here and got me out of that dreadful pep talk.” She offers a handshake which Maxene accepts. “I’m Rachel. I own and run Happy Pig. Follow me, I’ll show you around a bit.”
Maxene introduces herself and they walk the grounds and Ms. Seah recites the history of the establishment, all which Maxene already researched herself. The commune started as a place for her and her late husband Charli to retire. After moving onto the land, they decided to raise pigs; around this time is when Mr. Seah passed away, falling on a hike and cracking his head open. He died of trauma and blood loss. About seven years after that, Rachel gained a growing license and began to harvest marijuana. Over two decades, the commune gained nearly fifty residents and workers all of which are called Piglets. Happy Pig even has its very own doctor.
Two years ago, Rachel added the Happy Pig Summer Camps. Three weeks of adult summer camp with drinks and food provided and a new group every week. The tour consists of walking by the Big House and the cabins. Between which, Rachel gestures to the Pig Pens and the Greenhouse. “There are very few places here that are off limits. Those buildings are among them, and a condemned barn somewhere in the woods. It was once used for storage and the like but, truth be told, we have let it fall into such dilapidation that it must be torn down soon. If the Big House doors are open, you are welcome in. Otherwise, please do not enter.” They stop where the grass becomes sand. “Since you’re here early feel free to pick a cabin and drop your things off. You’re free to roam until the others get here. Welcome to Happy Pig, Maxene.” Rachel smiles and walks off toward the Big House.
Maxene grabs her personal effects and picks the closest cabin, number seven. Inside she flips the recorder back on and says. “It may just be me, it is probably just me, but something feels so off about this place. Maybe those guys at the entrance set the mood, but even if they weren’t there, I feel like there’s a bizarre energy.” She laughs and shakes her head making the frizzy strawberry bob bounce. “There are some off-limits places; the pig pen and the greenhouse, both of which make sense. I wonder what condition the barn is in for it to be off limits.” She looks out the window spotting the men from the sign as they walk toward the Big House covered head to toe in paint. “Maybe it will feel less odd when the other campers arrive.” Miss Bohdum shuts the recording device off and stuffs it in her bag’s front pocket. The reporter stands up carrying her shoes in one hand and shouldering a small pack.
Maxene decides to explore the commune before she pokes around searching for Harrison Hayes. She walks some of the trails and reconnects with nature. Being here is a breath of fresh air; She was raised in the country and went to a college town, where she worked for the local paper. A large company bought the little news station out and she transferred to an office in New York City at her first opportunity. This is the first time that she’s been away from the city in ten years. Even though this is a vacation, she is treating it like an assignment. She dips a toe in Pig Pond noting the fish that jump near the center. She ponders why she obsesses with finding the runaway writer. The reporter saunters toward the walking path; she pays no heed to the signs along the way that tell what trails go where. Maxene wants to get lost for a moment, and she did after a couple random turns. At the end of her little journey, she hears something peculiar on the wind hidden in the undertones of nature’s music.
“Chains?” She asks herself aloud still not convinced she believes what she hears, “Why would there be..?” Miss Bohdum listens carefully and steps closer to the source of the sounds. She finds a path with three people on it. Two are staff members, the dead giveaway being their bright red shirts with text that reads: STAFF. They each carry strands of chains that bind the third person by his neck, wrists, ankles, and waist. Keeping in the foliage and shadows, Maxene follows them to a broken-down barn.
The three enter and ten minutes later the two employees step out. The woman stops leaning on a tree and lighting a cigarette. She offers one to her coworker, who declines and says. “Why’s Hairy gotta be such a dick this time of the month. We’re helping him.”
The woman starts walking with a shrug. “Imagine if you transformed into something unrecognizable to a point that even your personality and everything that makes you, you is also gone. You’re just a passenger watching something else controls your every breath and every thought, and every action.” She finishes the cigarette stomping it out. “Regardless, I just do as Her Highness deems. We are but her loyal instruments.” The man’s shoulders slump down, and he mutters to himself. “I know. I just want him to like me.”
Maxene observes the barn as the Piglets disappear into the woods. She notes a few cameras watching the area around the barn egging on her curiosity. Miss Bohdum maneuvers around their blind spots. Finding an unlocked window, she looks in and sees only darkness. She climbs in shocking even herself when she makes almost no sound. Her eyes have yet to adjust, but she can hear labored breathing.
“Hello?” Maxene Bohdum calls out. “Are you hurt? I can call for help… Hello?”
The wheezing man gasps from the other side of the room. His chains rattle and clink as he shifts, “You need to leave.” The words are tense spoken through a clenched jaw. Max ignores the warning and delves deeper within. She begins to make out the room as her eyes adjust; a typewriter and small desk sit in the center of the barn. She could see the chains fastened to cement blocks on two sides of the room and just as she lay her eyes on who the Piglet’s called Hairy, he disappears with inhuman speed.
The chains on one side go tight and the other slackens. Hairy begins to sniff the air. “Your… your smell.” The chains jingle softly, then loudly followed by a rush of air. Maxene stands in the shadow of Hairy as he bends down and sniffs her. “Your smell makes me hunger.” The reporter struggles to respond, struggles to comprehend who or, more so, what is in front of her. There’s no way this is a human. It towers nearly five feet above her and is covered in fur. She stammers over words and incomplete sentences. “You are the guest who was early?” Miss Bohdum did the only thing that her body would allow her to do; she turns toward the window grabbing the ledge to pull herself up. Her foot barely leaves the ground when there is a deep, loud growl and searing pain as something sharp grabs her whole shoulder. Claws pierce her skin and catch her bones as Hairy drags her back where his bindings wouldn’t interfere.
Maxene screams, but no one hears.
Rachel walks the hidden path to Harrison’s barn accompanied by Jose and Bob, the baby giant. She enjoys having them around for neither question her orders. The baby occasional would have trouble understanding requests, but he has this odd connection with Jose. Like that of a newborn duckling that sees a dog and thinks it’s the mother. Still, she thinks to herself, Jose is a risk considering the alcoholism and a tendency to set things ablaze. She loves Bobby dearly and cannot deny his usefulness when handling Harrison. Bob is really two and half years old with skin as tough as a rhino, a trait many do not realize giants have.
Rachel’s hand leaves her left side where she tucks a special ornate knife away, “I’ll talk to you in a minute, sweetie.” She whispers to it then reaches into her satchel searching for Hairy’s medicine. She looks at the baggy and snickers. Jose looks at her with question. “I find it funny that when a werewolf has moments of clarity in the sea of red anger that smoking can anchor that clarity. Who would have thought, hm? I certainly wouldn’t have.” She explains. Jose doesn’t say anything and continues forward sneaking a sip of hard liquor from a flask. Rachel notes the moon in the light blue sky as they approach the front of the barn. “Have either of you seen that Maxene Bohdum woman since she arrived? The woman struck me as odd.” Bob giggles and Jose’s cheeks flare red. “Oh? Fallen in love again, have we?” The owner jests as she pushes the door open. A clicking noise sounds off from within.
“Hairy? We’ve brought you some meds.” Chains rattle in response and the familiar scent of human innards wafts into the nostrils of the companions. Rachel enters and steps on the leg of the late Maxene Bohdum. A groan of pain sounds off from center of the room, followed by an agonizing whisper for help. Rachel tosses the baggy of joints and a lighter to the hulking werewolf sitting at the desk tapping the typewriter. Jose finds Maxene sprawled on the floor missing a leg and some fingers. There are numerous lacerations all over her body and face.
“No! My love!” Jose falls next her sobbing. Even through gruesome wounds, one could see that Maxene has the same reaction to the arsonist as everybody else: confusion. On his hands and knees, he puts his forehead to hers and whispers. “I loved you.”
Scoffing, Rachel grabs the man’s shirt and pulls him up. “Shush! You didn’t know her. Go fetch Carrie, Doc, and a wheelbarrow.”
He stands there slouched and under each sobbing breath whispering. “Rest well, my princess.”
Rachel lights a nearby lantern and very plainly asks. “Hairy, what the hell happened? Don’t get me wrong, there is plenty of time to cover this since the other guests haven’t arrived and she came alone.”
“I know.” Hairy replies, eyes far behind his snout flicking toward Bob. There is a thud as the baby plops onto the ground next to the leg.
“So this was planned?” She asks.
The werewolf’s lips smack and pull back into a smile. “I’d say… calculated opportunity.”
“Don’t be a smart ass.”
“Fine, fine. She trespassed. I saw red, you know as well as I do that my kind can’t control that sort of thing.” He lifts his arm gesturing to the chains. “That’s why we do this. That’s why I’m here. For the medicine and where else would I have to go?” Maxene groans beginning to choke on blood. Rachel moves over to the struggling woman observing her wounds. “Sorry, Rach. Who is she?” Shoulders slouched, blood matts down the fur around his maw still covering his sharp teeth.
Arms crossed. “She is food for the pigs for sure. We’ll see what else we can do with her. Carry can maybe cut off the bits that you chewed on and feed the employees for the week, which would hopefully stop them from killing the guests as I heard rumors there may be plans to do so.”
“It was a terrible idea to have this during a full moon.” Harrison groans but it sounds more like a growl.
She shrugs her shoulders. “Gives a new definition for shit happens, I guess. I just want to make sure this won’t happen again.”
Hairy shrugs. “Sure, if they don’t wander in while I’m seeing red.”
The door opens and Jose leads Doc, a failed surgeon who first attempted a head transplant nearly fifty years ago, and Carrie, a cultic cannibal princess whose followers are many of the Happy Pig employees. The tall skinny surgeon steps passed Rachel with little greeting and observes the body. He adjusts his bifocals and stands up straight. “I will need tissue samples from where it bit her. Otherwise she is useless to me.” He walks back toward the door stopping to look at the cannibal princess. “Just save me a chunk where the beast bit her, and I will see what I can observe.” Then he leaves.
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Carrie steps forward the light catching her porcelain white skin. She’s thin but different than the doctor; he looks malnourished while she looks like her body evolved this way making her a lethal predator. The princess half smiles at Rachel. “I woke him from a nap. You know how little he sleeps and how frustrated he gets when one wakes him.” She crouches near Maxene’s corpse observing what’s left. “Well, it won’t be a fancy meal, but my people have eaten worse.”
“How can it get worse than werewolf leftovers?” Harrison asks.
Maxene coughs blood staining Carrie’s face like wine spilt on a white dress. The dying woman wheezes for help as the cannibal licks the reporter’s blood from her lips. Rachel grabs a nearby pitchfork and points it at Miss Bohdum’s chest. Putting all her weight on it, the points crack her ribs piercing her lungs and heart; Maxene’s last breath is a whispering gasp. Rachel let’s go of the go of the farm tool and it sways from side to side still impaled in the corpse. She glares sharply at Harrison. “Next time finish the job.”
Carrie slices off a sliver of skin asking with a small knife that rests on her waist. “What are we to do with her belongings?”
Rachel sighs. “Jose and Bobby will bring her car around here. Then they will build the Orientation Fire for the campers.” The cannibal slurps the skin through her lips and chomps down. “He will start it early with the rest of her belongings.” The widow glares at him, “Can you do that Jose?” Tears reflect the lantern light as he nods his head then sips from his flask. Rachel and Carrie lift the bloody body and the cannibal leaves with it setting off to the kitchen. Jose waits outside fighting off fits of tears and emotion while Rachel grabs Maxene’s leg from the baby giant who sucks on the big toe. Rach tosses it to Hairy. “Keep this for the munchies. It might stop you from eating the other campers.”
With that everybody set off to their various tasks for the week’s summer camp. Rachel returns to the Big House hand on her waist hovering over the knife while she speaks out loud seemingly to herself. “Oh, I know you don’t agree with all of this, but it’s for us. It keeps you here with me and that’s all that matters. Our love united for an eternity. No do not give me that excuse again. The vow was in life and death.” She continues slow passed the lake muttering to the knife and herself.
Jose is collecting Maxene Bohdum’s personal effects, all of which he smells before placing in the large bonfire next to the lake. He watches the flames build for a moment taking another sip of whiskey as Carrie’s servants dump the tainted meat that once made the beautiful love of his life into the flames. The arsonist walks off to her car and drives it through the woods to hide it behind Harrison’s barn.
In the kitchen, Carrie slices the last bite mark from Miss Bohdum’s leg. She ties it around her gimp’s neck and smacks his face. “Take this to Doc, dearest love.” He nods and runs off on all fours leather suit squeaking along the way. The surgeon answers the door to the basement of the Big House after unlocking a series of thirteen locks. He grabs the hunk of meat and tears it from the gimp’s neck and then slams the door in his face swiftly locking each deadbolt and chain lock. Jose parks the car some distance away from the rundown barn, his lover’s deathbed. Bob rolls in the dirt and grass and leaves outside the car while Jose finishes the flask. He lights a match and watches the flame letting it climb down the thin splinter of wood burning the tip of his fingers.
A crowd of twenty-nine people stand outside the Big House. All within the audience are thirty to forty-five year olds seeking to find what little youth is left in their bodies before their jobs and significant others and their kids suck out every last bit of life that remains. All wear childlike faces filled with giddy excitement. Every Piglet there, even the leaders like Carrie and Rachel, feel sick looking at their happiness. It wasn’t always this way, Rachel thinks as she gives the orientation hand never leaving the knife on her hip. Everything just grew so quick and suddenly the commune became a refuge for human and inhuman oddities, the black sheep of both old and modern society. She thinks of the woman from cabin seven, what was her name again? It makes her wonder if any in this crowd would have an accident and become a meal for her pigs and cannibals.
“Hello esteemed guests! Welcome to Happy Pig Commune! We don’t have many rules here so I will be brief. The pig pen, greenhouse, and any abandoned buildings on our walking paths are off limits. The Big House, behind me, is open to you if the doors are open; otherwise it too is off limits. With that said, go to the beach and enjoy the party. Food will be served within the hour!” They clap and cheer as the campers march to the beach, where they kick off their shoes and knock back drinks.
From the other side of the lake, Jose watches the campers celebrate dancing around the fire. He sips from a bottle of whiskey he buried beneath a nearby tree a year ago. The arsonist lights a match and lets it die. “Like our love.” He sighs. “Not all flames are meant to burn long, but sometimes they burn the brightest.” The baby giant gurgles with laughter as it catches a frog and swallows it whole. “Bob?” Jose asks. “Do you want to help me feel better?” Bobby nods his head and for the first time in what feels like an eternity for him, Jose smiles. He lights one more match. “Vengeance and fury in flames, there will be a purifying tonight.” Some of the campers point across the lake in delight, for they got there in time to see the last of the fireflies shine their light.
**
The gimp returns to his beloved majesty thrusting his head into her hand. “Not now.” She slaps him away. Carrie has been in deep thought since her beloved left, and, as he is the only thing she trusts. “Do you think I should poison the campers?” The gimp never answers vocally just nods and headshakes acting more like a puppy would. Regardless of what either says, these conversations are purely rhetorical. “Consider this,“ She continues as he cocks his head to the side in query. “Every time these things happen it always escalates like the incident with the triplets and the plumber.” Her lover nods his head understanding while she seasons reporter leg meat. “We may as well collect the meat to survive for almost half a year, maybe longer. Besides, we’ve been resorting to sacrificing our own people and that’s just not good for morale.” The princess claps her hands together. “That’s it! It’s settled we’re doing this tonight! Go gather the Piglets!” She twirls around smacking him hard catching him as he recoils from the blow. Carrie squeeze his face with both hands. “Oh, how I love you dear.”
**
Rachel stands alone in the greenhouse tending her garden. Her hand is in its place on her hip and she whispers to her husband. Snipping a dead leaf, she says. “I know you don’t agree with what I have to do, but I’m not ready to let go of you yet.” She nods and sighs looking at the orientation flames through the smoked glass. “Whoever it is will be happy before the end. Is that not enough, dear?” The widow takes the blade from her waist. It’s ornate with gemstones and chiseled markings, and once a month she is required to make a human sacrifice to keep her late husband within the knife.
“Oh, if you wouldn’t have been so careless to fall into the pig pen fixin’ the roof. Now it’s my fault? Because I wanted the pigs! You fell in and broke your back and they ate you alive.” She shoves him back in her waistband grumbling to herself. “That is not my damn fault.” The owner of Happy Pig walks toward the beach party noting the smell of Carrie’s signature human dish. She scoffs; I knew the Piglets wouldn’t be able to help themselves. How could she blame them though? That damn woman from cabin seven set off a chain reaction, Rachel knew that just like she knew that not a soul that belonged to a guest would be leaving tonight. The witch needed to move quickly, before all the campers were poisoned by the cannibals. Probably poison anyway. “I know that’s how you work, Carrie.” Rach whispers to herself.
Rachel leaves the sanctuary of her greenhouse and walks toward the party. Her hand leaves the knife as she tries to ignore the pleas of her husband. Doc joins her standing at the edge of the party just beyond the firelight. “You too, huh?” His raspy voice scratches.
“I’m sorry?”
“You knew the second that woman died this would happen. She was the proverbial domino that set all the other pieces in motion. Carrie, myself, even you.” Doc elaborates flatly.
Rachel shrugs. “I’ll tell you what I’m here for you if you tell me what you’re doing?”
The surgeon laughs. “You think your secrets are well kept? We’ve all lived with you for long enough to know you and your late husband’s secret. I, for one, am looking for incubators for further research into lycanthropy. Harrison won’t let me poke and prod him, and if all these miserable saps are going to die, may as well make some of them useful.”
She eyes him from the side. “Human guinea pig?”
With a shrug, he mutters. “More or less.”
They stand in the shifting shadows for a minute watching the campers drink and dance. The cannibals descend from the Big House carrying platters of mini burgers. They slither through the crowd offering the cooked meat of one late Maxene Bohdum, albeit without that wordage. Rachel scans the crowd for an offering, looking for someone alone.
“Have you ever heard the term long pig?” She asks Doc. His spectacles reflect the light as he shakes his head no. “Well, most cannibals say that human meat tastes like pork. Carrie is swerving long pig burgers. I’d avoid the meal if I were you.” Doc nods his head in silent understanding and walks toward the dancing campers. She watches Doc toss glass beneath the feet of two dancers near the bonfire. They fall and he rushes to their aide. Grabbing one of the Piglets he sweeps them to the infirmary. She observes the servant offer one of the last mini burgers to a guest. He holds his palm up and says. “Thank you, but I’m vegan.” If it weren’t for his friends around him, Rachel would have chosen him. There was another who drinks alone watching the moon reflect off Pig Pond.
“Excuse me,” Rachel approaches him. “Which cabin are you in?”
He looks around, his trance broken. “Uh, five. Is everything okay?”
“Oh yes, yes. We’ve just had the plumbing issue, so we must move you into the Big House for the night. If you’d like, I can show you quick, mister…?” The owner has gotten better at lying over the years. Even when she was bad, a simple spell can convince nearly anyone to do anything. She extends her hand in a personal introduction.
He shakes her hand, “Jerry Maynard. Thank you, I would appreciate that. I think it’s time to turn in for the night anyway.”
They walk to the Big House making small talk. The decor in the farmhouse is plain and simple. It creaks with every step as she leads him to the courtyard. “Just on the other side here.” The courtyard is twenty yards by twenty yards. Paths extend from the home and intersect in the center. In each corner there is a small tree and garden planted next to stone benches. There is a ring of hedges around the center hiding it from the world. As they pass through the shadows, two Piglets grab him by his arms and gag him. Jerry whimpered and cries in confusion as they carry him to the center of the courtyard.
“I know you must be confused.” She carries the knife, still sheathed, in both hands. “Unfortunately, it is too much to explain.” In the center there are flowers in abundance at the base of a large concrete slab. The cannibals lay Mister Maynard there, while Rachel unsheathes the knife her husband’s soul resides within against his will. Roots break out of the ground and slide up the altar. They wrap around Jerry’s wrists, ankles, and neck. Once the sacrifice is secured, the Piglets step back and exit the courtyard.
Rachel admires the blade, her husband as the moon’s light glimmers on the metal. “I know you don’t agree with this.” Holding the blade above his heart, Rachel Seah the witch of Happy Pig Commune whispers ancient words and stabs her sacrifice in his heart. She holds it there feeling it draw in his life power to keep her husband with her, where he belongs. As his life exits into the knife, the binding roots loosen and retract back into the ground. Rach removes the knife and wipes the blood on Jerry’s pants. “Take him to the pigs. You and your people will have plenty of food soon enough.” The Piglets return, lift the body, and carry it away leaving her to mutter to her disagreeable deceased husband.
In the basement of the Big House, Doc straps his test subjects, whom he lovingly calls A and B, to some dentist chairs he acquired from a junkyard two hours away. He took their blood and infused it with the lycan’s DNA and is now injecting it into A. “We will see what happens to you and in the meantime, I can watch what happens with B’s blood.” B is kept under with anesthesia, a concoction made by Rachel as partial payment for his services here at Happy Pig.
Bouts of insomnia plague Doc causing him to take naps at inopportune times. He falls asleep at his workbench forehead lying against the table next to the microscope. Only an hour passes until test subject A begins convulsing and changing. The shuddering and violent shaking wakes him up. Annoyed and angry, he grabs a .22 he keeps loaded with silver bullets and shoots A in the head. Doc sighs relieved of his frustration. He sets the pistol down and injects the next test subject wondering whether her reaction would be the same or not. He wonders if his mind is even in the right place for such experiments, for he is plagued with sleep deprivation. His mind hasn’t been right in a long time. Still, he is determined to make his mark on the world and ridding it of lycans is the way. Marking the time on the clock, he notes the time to change.
Doc takes more blood from the subject and infuses it with pure silver powder. He would find a cure for the plague that is lycanthropy if it is the last thing he would do on this miserable planet.
Jose stands on the car’s roof watching another match spark to life and die, life and death. He sways blown by the gentlest breeze and knocks back another gulp of whiskey. The drunken man walks off toward the hood of the car pouring the alcohol over the car as he goes. Eyes in a craze he turns the car on and lights fire to the alcohol. Through bubbling spittle, he yells. “You did this wolf-man!” He floors the gas directing the blazing vehicle to the barn. “You killed my love!”
Inside, Harrison, in full werewolf form, hunches over his typewriter carefully clicking the keys with clawed fingertips. His ears twitch and sniffing he air he grumbles to himself. “A drunk, fire, and,“ He sniffs the air once more. “Death by poison.” Hairy shakes his head in disappointment; as he begins to see red, Harrison Hayes gorwls to himself. “Told them we shouldn’t have done this on the full damn moon…”
Jose jumps from the burning vehicle before it crashes through the wall in an explosion of splinters and fire. Maxene’s sedan crushes the cement block breaking one set of chains free. Bobby helps the man up, and they watch the flames build and consume the building; they listen to the howls of Harrison Hayes as he tugs on his chains and the flames lick his fur. The second concrete cracks and gives way no match for the beast’s strength. The werewolf rips off the wrist and ankle bindings and howls to the moon once more. The beast jumps through the burning hole as little firelights across his body trailing smoke from the end of his fur. Hairy rolls once, after he lands, and then pounces toward Jose. His sharp teeth come mere centimeters from chomping off Jose’s face. Neither the arsonist nor the werewolf see Bob move. The giant slams a fist atop the werewolf’s snout knocking him into the ground. Bob grabs Hairy by the scruff, picks him up, and throws him into the woods. Jose falls backward blacking out from the booze.
Across Pig Pond, the Piglets lay in wait for the poison to take effect. As if a sign from the princess, a large fire rose in the woods behind the lake when the poison begins to kill the guests. The first to die was dancing around the bonfire. He goes limp clutching his chest and falling into the flames. Shortly after, everybody starts dropping where they stand. When those who did not eat or did not yet die see the transpiring events they begin to scream for help. The Piglets and Carrie revel in the sound and step out of the shadows to slice their throats. One man, the vegan that Rachel desired to be her sacrifice, is off to the side pissing in a bush. Hearing the screams, he turns to witness the Happy Pig employees cutting his friends throats. Sobering up immediately, he runs toward the cabins, toward their cars. Hairy is perched atop the closest cabin watching his prey; the werewolf arcs into the air and lands on the vegan ripping him apart on contact. Thus, concludes the first summer camp this year for the Happy Pig Commune.
**
In the morning, the Piglets work to clean the messes made and rid themselves of the camper’s personal effects. Doc gifts two cadavers to Rachel’s pigs. “Alas, two more failed experiments.” He mutters to himself then wondering if the infected bodies would affect the pigs. Maybe my answer is within the swinge, he thinks to himself. Carrie takes stock of all the meat in the walk-in freezer downstairs hanging behind the pigs. Her lover sits like a dog panting next her excitedly as she passes a sliver of raw human meat. Bob sits next to Jose who cries about his lost love Maxene. Mention the dozens of other women, some of which he had accidentally killed or ran away after first meeting him.
The owner of Happy Pig stands on the Big House porch blowing the heat from a steaming cup of tea. She pats her waist telling her husband good morning and then waves to the stark-naked Harrison Hayes walking up to her. Blood covers his body and he picks something, maybe flesh or bits of bone or muscle, from his teeth.
“Good morning, Hairy.” She greets.
He gives a half wave and takes the cup of tea. “I, uh,” Harrison coughs and then sips the hot tea, “I think I almost killed Jose last night.”