Howard walked around the side of the farmhouse, along a stone pathway that had almost disappeared under long tufts of overgrown grass. He came to a gate, which had come off its hinges. Howard, who was carrying a plastic bag, gently placed it on the floor, then lifted the gate, pulling it away from the wooden gate-frame. He leaned the gate against one of the farmhouse walls, picked up the plastic bag, and then walked into what was once a small back garden, but was now more like a jungle. Howard smiled.

“Hello again, my little world.” He said. Howard carried on forwards, through the overgrown grass, weeds, and brambles, towards a small wooden fence that marked the edge of the garden. Leaning against the fence was a rusty old spade that Howard had left there following his last visit, six months ago. The handle was covered with something white and powdery.

“Dried bird shit.” Mumbled Howard, who pulled the sleeve of his coat over his hand, before brushing away at the spade handle, a slight look of disgust on his face.

When Howard had finished cleaning the handle of the spade, he put the plastic bag that he’d been carrying on the floor again, and then began to dig a small hole in the ground. Howard whistled a tune to himself as he performed this task. I’m glad that I bought that cd from Steve’s shop. There’s some great tracks on it, Howard thought. I’ll have to pop back down to Steve’s again, some time next week, see if he’s got any other albums by that band… they’re pretty good. Howard finished digging the hole in the ground. He propped the spade back up against the wooden fence, and then picked up the plastic bag that he’d laid down on the floor. Howard hovered over the hole, and tipped the plastic bag upside down. A dead cat fell from the bag, and into the makeshift grave that Howard had just dug. Howard looked down at the animal, which he had murdered the evening before. Half of its head was caved in, from where Howard had hit it repeatedly with one of Lucas’s hammers. The cats skull, and a slither of brain, were exposed. Howard grinned.

“How do you like your new home, Buttons?” He asked the cat, a creature that wouldn't have been capable of replying, even if it hadn’t had its skull shattered. “I bet Mister Whitehouse is out and about, searching for you, right now… the stupid old shit. You’re all that he had left, but now you’re dead. He’ll be so fucking lonely without you… serves him right, miserable bastard. Now, Buttons, what was it that your crusty old fart of an owner said to me? Oh, I remember… ‘You’re a weirdo, just like your mother was.’ And all because of a stupid argument over… I can’t even remember what it was about now. Not that it matters. He’s just lucky that… well, you know what I mean, don’t you, Buttons? It could have been your precious fucking master lying here in this garden right now, rather than you. Looks like you drew the short straw, little puddy cat.” With that, Howard threw a shovelful of dirt over the body of the dead feline, and then he began to whistle cheerily again.

When Howard had finished burying Buttons the cat, he let the spade fall to the floor, and then walked a short distance, parallel to the wooden fence, until he reached a half-broken concrete post. Howard stopped walking, and stared down at the ground.

“I wonder how you’re doing down there, my friend.” Said Howard. “It’s been about a year now.” He added. Howard sat down on the dirt, then he stroked the ground with his hand. “Nobody misses you in Coldsleet. Nobody at all.” Howard gave a little laugh. “Everyone thinks that you ran away. That’s probably because they all knew that you didn’t get along with your parents… plus I made it look like you’d left Coldsleet of your own volition. That was a clever move on my part.” Bragged Howard. He began to drift away, lost in his own memories. “I didn’t want all of the… fuss… that happened when the other one went missing… you know who I’m talking about… that silly little bitch from Elman. That was bad. Police everywhere. Reporters too. I didn’t like that. I hated having to go to college with those sleazy little fuckers knocking about all over the place. They still go on about… her… in that town. It’s all still a great big mystery, and you know what the people of Elman are like, they’re the same as in Coldsleet… they haven’t really got much else to talk about, coz they’re generally a bunch of fucking inbred, boring bastards. Every few months, there’s some article or other about her in the local rags, you know, speculating, theorising. It pisses me off, but there’s not much I can do about that, now. At least no-one has ever looked in my direction… but then, why would they? I’m just regarded as some quiet, slightly weird local college kid, who shares a house with his cousin’s family and inherited a small fortune from his mentally ill mother. I’m still under everyone’s radar… except I know that, one day, I’ll slip up. People like me always slip up in the end. I suppose that it’s the way that it has to be… it’s how lesser individuals discover the true Barbarians, monsters, that walk amongst them… and it keeps the little fuckers on their toes…”

Howard looked across to the spot where he’d just buried the cat.

“I’ve brought a new addition for the garden. A little pet to keep you company. He belonged to old Mister Whitehouse, but I decided to bring him here, to you and her.” Howard said. He looked around the rest of the garden, feeling slightly maudlin. “I don’t think I’ll be coming here again… well, not with someone else, if you know what I mean. I’ll still come to visit you and her, and Buttons too, but I won’t be planting any more flowers here. It’s common sense… when it’s time to do another one, and that time is approaching fast, they’ll have to go somewhere else. I don’t know where yet, but I’ll find a new place to put them. You see, I can’t keep dumping you all in the same spot, just in case I get caught. I don’t want them to be able to find out all of my secret stuff… and that’s what’ll happen, if I carry on bringing people here, to the farm.” Howard stroked the ground again. “When they catch me, they’ll find my journal too. After they’ve read that, they’ll know who I killed, and where some of them can be found. But not all of them. I’m not just gonna hand those fuckers everything on a plate. Some things have to be kept secret… it might give me some sort of bargaining position, in the future.” He said. “Anyway, I can’t hang around here all day. Best be going. Bye, girl.” Howard stood up, and then walked back to where Buttons was buried. He picked up the spade from off the floor, but instead of propping it up against the wooden fence, he took it back to the car with him, and placed it inside the boot. I won’t be doing any more digging up at this farmhouse again.

***

When Howard got home that evening, he decided to spend the evening downstairs rather than in his bedroom. Howard wanted to be around Mary, who had been stopping at the house for almost a week. Lucas, Kay, and Mary were all sat on the sofa in the living room, watching a film on the television, when Howard joined them. They all looked up when he entered the room, and said ‘hi’ to him. Howard nodded, and sat himself down in the armchair.

“What are you watching?” He asked. Lucas yawned.

“It’s a film about some terrorist who’s kidnapped a bus-load of school kids. It isn’t very good.” Replied Lucas. He turned to his wife. “Actually, shall I see if there’s anything else on?” Lucas asked her.

“Can you leave it? I think that it’s alright.” Kay replied.

“It’s crap.” Chipped-in Mary. Howard looked at her, with a smile on his face, and Mary smiled back at him.

That bad, huh?” Asked Howard.

“Yep, it’s that bad. Does anyone fancy a cuppa?” Mary wanted to know. She got up from off the sofa.

“Not for me.” Replied Lucas, who was drinking a can of beer.