Slaughterhouse

By Rae Vasquez

An intimate look inside the mind of a serial killer. Mike has no choice but to become a serial killer. Things aren't always what they seem, and people lie. When secrets get heavy and truths begin to unravel, mistakes are made. Will he get caught? What happens to the family of the serial killers?

 

[Today is my last day of a normal life and a clear conscience. After this, there is no going back to the way it was before. I am going to have some things to answer for when I meet my maker. I mean after all; Shakespeare did say, "hell is empty and all the devils are here." - Mike.]

Have you ever wanted to explore the mind of a serial killer? What is the recipe for the perfect serial killer? They often get away with it for so long because no one wants to believe their friendly neighbor could be so sinister. The real monsters don't look scary at all, and they don't hide in the dark. Mike is forced to become a serial killer to protect his child. He has a reputation to keep, he's a good guy but he has been met with an impossible circumstance. No one could imagine what Mike really is behind closed doors, except maybe his wife. Secrets get heavy. When the truth begins to chase him, some desperate measures are taken. Mistakes are often made when desperation clouds judgment. People aren't who they say they are. What happens to the family of a serial killer? When will it be enough? How can you be set free? Will the killer crack under pressure, will remorse find him? Will he get away with it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Twisted Librarian LLC
• Release date: Sep 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781959022008

Rae Vasquez

Rae Vasquez was born in Enterprise, Alabama. Her family moved around the US a lot during her childhood and Rae was able to overcome many challenges. She graduated from high school and joined the United States Army, where she served honorably for seven years before she was medically retired. As a disabled veteran, Rae is a member of the Wounded Warrior Alumni. She supports all veterans looking to heal through writing and would love to hear from them. Rae lost her father to alcoholism and homelessness, so has a personal connection to the homeless community. Rae takes every opportunity to donate her books to the homeless community as often as possible. In the future she hopes to start a non-profit in order to get more books into the hands of homeless shelters. She believes reading can be a great escape for anyone, in any circumstance, but especially for those who don’t have much of anything.

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1

Pumpkin with solid fill

SMALL TOWNS

Every family has their secrets, just like every small southern town, has its charm - some just run deeper than others. I’d like to believe I’m a good man. I go to church sometimes, I work hard, I adore my wife and my son is my life. Maybe, I drink a little more than I ought to, but I would go to the end of this earth for my family. That makes me a good man, right? However, I have heard the devil is in the details and if anyone found out what I am about to do? I would never be free again. I’d lose the farm, my family, my freedom, and my life. My son Thomas is terminally ill, he has an incurable weak heart. The Doc says he needs this fancy treatment to keep him with us, the problem is the insurance isn't paying’ out. Losing my son is not an option, neither is robbing the bank. I have an idea and I’m not particularly proud of it, but I have already made up my mind.  

Ever since Thomas was diagnosed with heart failure, I’ve been needing some extra help with the farm. I began working with the state last year to supply employment to undocumented immigrants who were on the list to be deported. I have just about every logistical detail worked out with my plan. I just hope I can pull it off. Today is my last day of a normal life and a clear conscience, after this there is no going back to the way it was before. I am going to have some things to answer for when I meet my maker. I mean after all; Shakespeare did say Hell is empty and all the devils are here. I just don’t know how to tell Lillian and maybe she doesn’t need to know, and I can spare her from all of this. I’ve done the math and if I can double my fertilizer with the best source imaginable, my pumpkins could absolutely win this year's Harvest Festival - Best Pumpkin Contest and everyone in the state of Georgia would be down here to buy my crops at the farmer's market.  

Hey honey, I need to run to the bakery, Elizabeth is waiting. You know Sundays are my busiest pumpkin pie days! Lillian said as she took a bite of slightly burnt toast and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Well, Darlin,’ that’s because everyone knows you make the best damn pumpkin treats in the southeast. - I was busy reading the newspaper but any time Lily entered my space, I couldn't help but admire her sage green eyes and dimples.  

"Oh, come on! They’ll eat anything if it is made with a little love and sugar. But - I am rather good though ain't I?"   

Well, maybe you are the reason my pants got a little smaller. - I stretched my stomach further out to test the thread count. 

Oh hush, you better get to work too or we’ll both be late. - Lillian couldn’t help but laugh at my jokes. 

Maybe I wanna be late. - I grin ear to ear as I put the paper down to make some extra room on the kitchen table. 

Mmm, nice try Honey. I will see you tonight and maybe I can bring home some... dessert. Lillian tries not to blush. 

Where is Thomas? Lillian asked as if she had forgotten he should be there.  

He got up early, ate his breakfast and begged to go meet up with Anthony. He’s really taken to him. I said while bringing the dishes to the sink. 

Alright, call me if you need anything. Love you babe. Lillian rushed out the door in order to not be late.

Damn that woman looks good in anything, and you know what they say about red heads. Especially when I catch her in the bakery with the sweet reminisces of flour on her rosy cheeks. She can lose all sense of time when she is creating her delicious desserts. I don't know how I still fit in my jeans. Lilly does well with her bakery shop. I still think it’s a little silly how she named it Pumpkin Eaters but the whole area has fallen in love with her desserts. I couldn’t be prouder of her though. She has only been open for two years and has already about matched what I have been bringing home. If we can double our profits, we can cover all the medical treatments without losing the house, the farm, and her bakery she busted her ass building from the ground up. I’m sure Lilly will be baking late tonight, it’s hard to get her out of the kitchen when she’s had a rough day. She told me the appointment yesterday didn't go all too well with Thomas. But the fog is finally lifting a bit which means it's time to chase this coffee down with my last cigarette for the morning. The work of a farmer is never done.  

Like clockwork, my labor team shows up at 0730 sharp. Anthony has been on the farm the longest and he is my best worker yet. Each morning he delegates the work that needs to be done. We only have a few months left before The Harvest Festival, so we need to get these pumpkins going. Everyone in this town goes nuts over the month-long Harvest Festival in October. Every year, I put my biggest pumpkin into the Best Pumpkin contest and Lilly puts her pies and pumpkin eaters in too. We usually make out fairly well, but Old Man Sanders has always beat me by less than an inch. But this year’s gonna be a little different. There is a $5000 prize for the biggest pumpkin. That will cover the cost of two of Thomas’ treatments. So, you bet your sweet ass, I am going to win it this year.  

Last night, I was watching the news and I saw Washington has signed a bill legalizing the use of human remains as fertilizer. True story, it was even in the paper this morning. People can opt into it just like you can choose to be an organ donor. I wonder if the state of Georgia will ever vote on that. Fact is, human remains would absolutely make the crops thrive, so this is a remarkable thing Washington is doing. I just prefer mine to be a little fresher. Plus, in these circumstances, I don't have the time to wait for folks to die. I just need to be sure my plan can work, and I won't get caught. Tomorrow, I am going to butcher one of my undocumented workers. I am going to be a killer. And I already hate myself for it. I must remember why I am doing this. Thomas needs me, I brought him into this world and now I am responsible for him.  

As I got closer to the meet up spot the crew had inadvertently chosen, I could see Anthony and Thomas playing some catch. Thomas doesn't really have any friends since he doesn't go to school anymore. I feel bad for everything he is going through, but we have to be careful with him.  

Good morning, Mike! I see you’re twelve minutes late. Did Mrs. Rogers bribe you with another one of those famous pies. - Anthony smirked as he grabbed a bag of seeds. 

Mornin’ Anthony! You know those damn pies are so good they’re sinful. Don't let her recruit you now. - I said jokingly. 

Too late now, my wife has fallen victim to her voodoo desserts - Anthony can barely breathe between his laughter.  

Don’t feel bad, everyone does. We need to start preparing for the festival this year, time to check on the progress of these pumpkins. - I am trying not to think about what I have to do the next day. I had grown close to Anthony, so has the rest of the family. 

2

Pumpkin with solid fill

FIRST KILL

(Mike)

As I prepare for the day, the rush of tiny painful explosions in my chest makes it nearly impossible to breathe. The beat of my heart pulsating blood to my ears, ring loud enough to burst my eardrums. The beads of sweat resting on my forehead and the uncontrollable tingling throughout my body must be a dead giveaway. I have personally slaughtered 187 animals on this farm, but this is different. Even though I will use the same method, everything seems foreign - from the tools to the execution. For 187 animals, I have slit the throats of many, but I prefer to use a nail gun. It’s less messy that way. But no matter which way you slice it, killing another human will always be messy. I have two options for butchering, and I have weighed the pros and cons of both.

Option one - I can stare my victims in the face as I pull the trigger of the nail gun and watch their soul escape their eyes until they are lifeless. Or option two - I can slice their throats from behind and bathe in their blood before they ever realize what I’m doing. To be honest, I am not sure I have it in me to be a cold-blooded killer. But I KNOW, I do not have it in me to bury my son.  

I do not wish to be a monster. Maybe this is some kind of fucked up punishment for something I have done in the past. What would any other parent choose to do in my shoes? I must do this in a way that is respectful to my future victims. Before each kill, I will thoroughly clean all the tools I need. And after each kill, I will keep each of their skulls intact, I will then write their names on their forehead, and I will hide them in the old well at the east end of the farm. Every day I will pray for forgiveness and recycle every victim back into the earth. I will take this to my grave because killers get caught when they take trophies, but this isn’t like that, it won’t be for sport or power. I just don’t know how else to morally honor their unwilling sacrifice. Thomas must never know his life came at the expense of others. He would never forgive me. He wouldn’t be able to understand, I wouldn’t blame him though. Tonight, will be the first sacrifice. I will lose my innocence, and someone will lose their life. I will have to live with this for all the days to come and their nightmare ends just as quick as it begins.  

Before everything changes, I need to see my sweet Lily in her most natural form - with sugar dusted cheeks and lost in her recipes. I have been smitten with her since first grade when everyone else teased her because she always wore the same sweatshirt and wouldn’t speak to anyone. She was my neighbor. The other kids didn't know her story, but I sure did. The summer before first grade, her dad hung himself on her swing set. I guess when that happened her mom couldn’t live with the loss, and she fell into drugs. Everything got pretty rocky for Lily after that. I was her only friend, and we grew to love each other.  

As soon as the door to the bakery swings open, the pumpkin spice just slaps you back into a memory of your favorite family gathering around the harvest festival. I swear, just the scent of her pies can cheer up the saddest soul. Elizabeth is wrapping up the last couple of desserts that didn't sell for the day. She takes it down the street to the church where they feed some less fortunate families. Everyone deserves a piece of the pie, and we can use it as a tax write off. 

Hey Elizabeth! Is Lily in the back?  

Yeah, she’s cleanin’ up. My Daddy said he missed you out at the lake today. He should be here any minute. Elizabeth answered. 

I haven’t missed a single Sunday fishing ritual in months, I’m sure this time he’s gonna tell me he caught a twenty pounder. I chuckled because her daddy, Greg Matthews, is the Chief of Police and any time I missed a Sunday fishing ritual - as we call it, he always caught some river monster.  

Well, look who it is! - Greg walked in with the look of satisfaction all over his face.  

"Let me guess, I missed another big one. You know I am starting to think that maybe your eyes are bigger than you