B O S C O

This was a big one, our first ever encounter with one of these things. Though, there still is a good chunk of questions that have yet to be answered, so we should go back to the beginning.

In Duskmoore, there are a lot of places that have been around for over a hundred years, for a long time, one of its appeals was that it was “historic Americana,” like the other 75% of towns and villages all over the country. One of the older places was this old as hell butcher’s shop: Bosco’s Meat and Deli. It seemed like any other classic butcher shop, with the only detail that stuck out being what looked like a homemade cardboard cutout of the shop’s mascot: a pink, anthropomorphic cartoon bull dressed in a butcher’s attire, with a big toothy smile and reddish eyes. But what was weird about the place was that, whenever the place was closed for the night, no one, not even the owner would be seen leaving to go home.

Though there was a lot of gossip around town about it, a good chunk of the population there had this unspoken agreement that something was wrong with that place, and that extended to the owner and butcher of the shop. We still don’t know if he had any last name, he was always called “Bosco.” He was this massive, imposing man with a broad body built like a brick wall. The skin on his hands looked pale and clammy. He had a square head with a grey buzz cut, a poorly kept stubble and sunken-in eyes that looked like they could see through you. Although he looked off-putting, he was still human. At least, that was what all of Duskmoore thought, until May 2006.

Since Duskmoore Monthly Society was just starting out, Holly and I (Owen) decided to do a stakeout in the park across the way from Bosco’s to see what he does at night. There were only a couple of windows around the kitchen area of the building that had curtains drawn, but they casted vague shadows of what looked like Bosco preparing meat, as we could hear his muffled grunts, the slamming of a cleaver, and the tearing of raw flesh. We watched him take a large garbage bag from the kitchen to the dumpster outside. Once he walked back into the building and shut the door, we took our opportunity to get closer to climb the closed dumpster so we could peek through the small window high above it.

A foul smell hit our noses as I cautiously climbed the dumpster and reached up to the small window. As I was on my toes, carefully trying to peek through the dirty glass pane, I learned the horrific truth about Bosco’s. Spread out on the island of the kitchen was a human body. The ribcage was split open out of the limbless torso, with most of the internal organs removed. As Bosco was stoking the fire in the smoker, entire severed arms and legs were seen sticking out of pots, coated in a rub seasoning. He was killing people, preparing their bodies like livestock, and sold them in the town as food. As I suppressed the violent urge to vomit, I looked down at the digital camera in my hands. I had to take a photo of this, for the victims he had taken in. He had to be put to justice.

I didn’t know what to expect as I peeked through the window and held up the camera to my view, but what I saw added a new layer of terror onto an already horrifying revelation. Through the camera screen, Bosco was different. Almost everything about him was the same, the clammy skin, the huge physique, even his dirty clothes remained, but the head completely changed. His head now became that of a skeletal bull covered with a layer of pale sinewy skin. Dark horns curved upwards over withered floppy ears. His jaws were stretched forward, lined with crooked flat teeth. His eyeballs were fully red and were poking out of enlarged sockets on either side of his head. I couldn’t take the photo in time because as I was processing what Bosco was, he turned and one of his eye rolled to stare directly at mine.

I ducked out of sight just as that happened, and Holly and I escaped into the park as we heard the slamming of the door far behind us. We made it to the police station and reported that we saw a dead body in Bosco’s. When they investigated the shop, they found not only the body, but also a bunch of others stored on hooks in the meat freezer, and human remains stashed in the dumpster. From then on, Bosco’s Meat and Deli had been cleaned out and closed forever. And, I suppose, we did get what we wanted in the end. Sure, we made a few magazines before, but weeks after the police investigation, word started to spread about us. At some point, we met Andre and Devon and added them to the team. Some folks believed us, some called us hacks, but whatever the case, Duskmoore Monthly Society had made its mark on the world that day.

But every so often, I still worry about Bosco. He still saw me there. Although the police searched the place and across town, they haven’t been able to find any trace of him. He disappeared, with his whereabouts still unknown.