leans against the doorway, smoking a cigarette. The sun sits high in the sky, bringing in the Texas heat. She wipes sweat off her forehead, before taking another draw.

She prefers smoking at night, so she can see the smoke curl up and around under the moonlight. A therapeutic sight, rather. But her throat was itching for one that morning.

Laura calls from inside the shop.

"How long are we staying open today?"

Y/n looks down at her watch. The shops only been open for a few hours, but she's already feeling like it'll be a no-customer day. The shop was mainly appealing to tourists, and none went through these parts on a random Tuesday morning.

She sighs and calls back to Laura.

"Go ahead and close up. We're done for the day."

After a few minutes, the bell dings as Laura steps outside. She digs through her purse for her car keys.

"You got something going on today?"

"Yeah. I got a date. " She smirks at y/n.

"Is it with that cotton candy cart guy you met Saturday?"

"Yup. I tried setting him up with you, but you refused."

"I'm not into skinny guys. You have fun, though. " Y/n slaps Laura on the back as she skips happily to her car.

She drives off, leaving y/n in a pile of dust. She waves it away, turning to walk back into her shop.

Theres the sound of sand crunching on the driveway behind her. She turns to see an old looking car drive in. She quickly discards her cigarette, smashing it with the toe of her boot.

The old lady- Luda Mae- steps out of the car. You wave at her, and hold the door to the shop open for her. She thanks you as she steps inside.

"Welcome back, Luda. I got your son's mask all ready for him."

She smiles.

"I hope he wasn't hard to deal with. He gets shy around others. Especially pretty young ladies."

"No, not at all." She says, blushing at the compliment.

She steps into her office and grabs a black box. She gives it to Luda, who takes it.

"Thank you. My boy is going to be so happy."

"I hope he will. If there's any issues at all swing back around and I'll fix it."

With a wave, Luda walks towards the door. She opens it, but before stepping out, she pauses and turns to y/n.

"Smoking's not good for you, ya know. It's a bad habit."

With that, she heads to her car and drives off down the road.

stands on the dirt lot, looking up at the old meat factory. As he walks in and over to his meat cutting station, his hands fumble with the leather straps of his new mask.

Last night, his mom came home with a sleek black box. Inside sat his new mask, wrapped in velvet cloth. His thoughts traced to the mask maker. The amount of care she put into it was obvious. He pulled it out of its case slowly, as if fearing he'd rip it.

As he ran his finger along the leather, though, he found it was strong. In front of the broken mirror in his room, he put it on. Flashes of memories of y/n's gloves on his face surface, making his heart race.

As he stands over a fresh pile of meat, his hand glides along the mask once again.

"Hey Hewitt, it's closing time. "

Thomas doesn't listen. He starts chopping away at the meat.

"You gotta go. We already told you, you can't be here!"

Chop.

Chop.

Chop.

"DAMMIT I SAID LEAVE, YOU ANIMAL!"

Thomas stops. He turns towards the man, slowly. He steps towards him, staring into his face. The man steps back nervously.

But Thomas drops the knife, walking past him. The man sighs with relief.

opens the front door. Standing in front of him is the town's Sheriff, Hoyt.

"I got a call from the factory. Your boy's killed someone, Hewitt."

Charlie spits into the bushes, following the sheriff into his car. That damn boy got himself into big trouble this time.

"He's walking along the road somewhere. I'm gonna need you to help me calm him down, if needed. "

Charlie nods, closing the door. They start driving down the dirt road, the sheriff's eyes peeled for the big man.

"You should've known, Charlie. Animals like him don't belong around normal folk."

Charlie chews on his tongue.

"He's just misunderstood, Sheriff."

Sheriff Hoyt curses as he sees Thomas walking along the road, a chainsaw in his hand.

"Shit. Stay here, Charlie." Hoyt gets out, approaching Thomas slowly.

Charlie chuckles to himself. So, the boys got guts to him after all. He'll use his monstrous strength for something useful now.

Charlie grabs the shotgun off of the Sheriff's dash board. He gets out of the car, and in one experienced motion, shoots the sheriff in the back of the head. He collapses to the floor, gone.

"Ho, ho. I just killed the whole sheriff's department. " Charlie grabs the sheriff's body and puts him in the back of the car.

"Get in, you big, beautiful monster. We've got work to do. "

Thomas gets in the passenger seat. Charlie drives them home. With his nephew's help, he brings the sheriff inside. Luda watches from the kitchen.

"Dammit, Charlie. You're getting bold."

"Its not Charlie no more, Luda." He says, pulling the hat off the sheriff's head and putting it on his own.

"I'm sheriff Hoyt now."

"You look stupid."

That night, the four of them sit around the table. Luda, Thomas, Monty, and Char- Hoyt.

A big, steaming stew sits on the table. Hoyt slaps it, grinning widely.

"Good ol' sheriff's gonna taste great now, ain't he?"

"Charlie!" Luda gasps

"What?"

"Say grace!"

The four bow their heads. As Hoyt says grace, the stew fills the room with a sweet, putrid, steaky smell. Like leather cooking over a fire. If not for the broth, onions, and assortment of other veggies, the smell would be so strong you could taste it on your tongue.

Who knows what the others were thinking about their new source of meat. Only Hoyt can be said to be met with comfort by the smell. His experience as a POW has left him desensitized. Cannibalism was no more then another way of getting by. His mouth watered at the familiar smell. Thanks to Luda's broth, the meat will be complimented beautifully.

"Alright, family. Let's dig in."