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Fiction Horror Thriller

The day I found a letter in my mailbox addressed to me by Finley Scott was not one I thought I would ever see again. My old friend had vanished while we were in college and I hadn’t seen him for at least seven years at that point. The envelope was brown and reminded me of deli paper, it had been wrapped with twine and sealed with a wax stamp which detailed an ornate ‘S’ on it. It was odd considering I hadn’t quite pegged Fin to be the romantic writer, but who was I to judge the man I’d assumed dead for nearly a decade? 

Excitedly, I went back into the house and to my desk, where the familiar scrawl I had copied off of homework countless times poured across the pages. It read kindly; 

Dear Charlie, 

I hope you’re doing well. I know it has been quite some time since we last spoke. Are you practicing, yet? I’ve been lucky enough to complete my education here in the U.K. and am finally living out my dream as an ER doctor. The truth is, I’ve missed you quite a lot. You were my best friend, and honestly, though I’ve had good fortune in my career thus far, I have not been so lucky in companions, and I’ll admit I’ve grown quite lonely. 

I suppose you deserve an explanation for my disappearance. I ran into some family troubles and was forced to go abroad to help with things. But, as sad as I am to say, my Nan has finally passed and I’ve been considering coming back to the States where I’ll feel a bit more at ease and at home. Nearly eight years now I’ve been here and I feel like a loser just living by myself and going out to work, school, and taking care of Nan. But in my loneliness I’ve found an incredible way to pass the time. I’d love to tell you more about it over the phone sometime, and hopefully we can find time to catch up when I’m in town. 

I miss you, man. Ring me when you get a chance!

-Fin 

At the bottom he’d written a phone number which I was excited to put to good use. Though I found some weird bits in his letter. Firstly, as far as I had known, both of his grandmothers died when he was a kid. And even if one had gotten sick while in school, why had he suddenly lost touch? What possessed him to write to me, now? And why couldn’t this hobby be discussed in the letter? I didn’t dwell on it too much and called my good friend Kaden who had gone to school with Finley and I and had completed our trio of idiocy. 

“Hello?” He answered. 

“Hey Kaden, you’ll never believe who I just opened a letter from.” I felt oddly giddy. 

“President, Pope, that ex of yours from a couple months ago who stole all of your candles and soap before she blocked you on everything and left, an estranged uncle leaving you his millions-” I cut him off as he continued to rattle off ridiculous, and albeit slightly hurtful guesses. 

“Nope. And by the way, Caroline didn’t steal my soap, she stole my soul. Ok and my soap, but that’s besides the point.”

“Whatever dude, just tell me already.”

“Finley Scott.”

“Shut the hell up. He sent you a letter? It’s been like what eight years? We held a memorial for him when we graduated for God’s sakes… and he’s alive?”

“Yeah, I know. I can text you a picture, it’s a little weird but then again he was always a little weird, wasn’t he?” I snapped a photo and sent it to him. 

“Does that envelope in the background have a wax seal? Also I thought he only had a grandpa in Tuscany as far as grandparents go?” 

“Hey man, I just received it. I think I’m going to call him though, what time is it in the U.K.?” 

“Sorry, I’m currently working as an RN not a time expert. Look it up, but tell me how it goes, and bust his balls for not writing to me too, the bastard.” 

“Alright, I’ll talk to you when it’s over, see you.” I hung up and did a quick search to see what time it was. 

9:30pm, that’s not too late for a phone call from a guy you still call your best friend and haven't seen in years, right? The phone rang once, twice, thrice, by the sixth ring I considered just hanging up and trying again the next day, but a groggy voice answered. 

“Can I help you?” My face crinkled as I smiled hearing his voice. It sounded different, maybe just tired. 

“Yeah, where the hell have you been, dude!” I was expecting a laugh or some kind of joking back with me, afterall, he should have been expecting my call at some point. 

“Excuse me?” He instead replied. 

“Oh sorry, it sounds like you just woke up...um, hello. It’s Charlie Parrish, I just got your letter today! I was hoping it wasn’t too late for that phone call.” 

“Oh, hi. Sorry, I wasn’t really in the best state of mind when I sent that. I hope you’re doing well but I would honestly rather go back to the status quo. See you around, Charlie.” I was scared he would hang up so I blurted quickly;

“Wait! I’ve been on the edge of my seat about this hobby of yours!” There was silence on the other end and then he seemed to speak seriously and fully alert now. 

“What hobby?” 

“Well you didn’t specify, I was hoping you would. I’ve been meaning to branch out a little with my free time.” 

“It’s not really something that I can just talk about, most people wouldn’t like it.”

“Try me.”

“Ok, well, I’ve been getting into the advanced butchering business lately. It started as a side gig to make some more money while I was still in the U.S. in highschool, and now I have my own shop here across the water. I doubt you’d like it, it gets pretty messy.” 

“Oh that actually sounds pretty interesting. What do you mean by advanced butchering?” He chuckled a bit as though I was stupid before sighing solemnly. 

“To tell you the truth, Charlie, my shop’s motto is “you are what you eat” and you’ll find that all of my customers are very fine, well grounded people. Now would you be interested in that?”

I laughed nervously, feeling silly for even thinking what I spoke. “Gee Fin, it sounds like you’re making people bacon in that shop of yours.” I laughed again hoping he would join me. 

“Well you know, nothing makes a better ground chuck than a ground Chuck, right? You know, I’ve been looking for a business partner. I can only do the shop on weekends now but I love it so much I think I want to quit the hospital work and do it full time. It’s becoming more of a lifestyle than a hobby. And you know what, people love imported meats. You could be my American supplier, because as of right now, I’ve only been able to do local. I could even catch a flight over there and show you to ethically source and hunt. How about it?”

“Finley, are you serious right now?”

“Oh come on Charlie, I didn’t really come over here for my Nan. She’s been dead 17 years now. Truth be told, I got spooked when I did a trial run of American product and decided to leave just to be on the safe side. Somehow though, business is booming here. For a weekend thing it is making serious cash, Charlie. I’m talking thousands. I know this sounds insane, but like i said, you’re my best pal and I trust you. And I have been lonely like I said. It gets sad when all of the friends you make over here end up being sold to your regulars. But hey, I like to treat my product well before sending it off.” My heart was beating fast, and my mouth was dry. I didn’t feel like I could speak and I wanted to be sick. 

“Finley, do these people know what you’re selling them?” I managed to spit out. 

“Charlie, do you really think people other than freaks are going to knowingly buy human meat? That’s ridiculous. Not to mention I’d be immediately shut down. Besides, good burgers are good burgers.” He spoke so nonchalantly about the whole thing and I wondered just how many Chucks he’d ground up. 

I must have been silent for a moment too long because Finley piped up again. 

“Well Charlie?” 

I hung up. 

I phoned 911. 

I’m not sure how things have played out for Finley Scott since he contacted me. But since then I have become a vegetarian and haven’t taken up any hobbies since.

January 26, 2021 07:22

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