Mr. XXX It’s a short story, so be warned.Baxter Savage: All Hallows Eve, Carving More Than Pumpkins – CAW 8.5
To derive a sense of pleasure from the screams, as blood curdling and fearful as you could possibly imagine, a mass of flesh lay in a crumpled pile beside the front door of Baxter’s house. The days and nights were colder as winter threatened to approach. Baxter grabbed each jar and threw it over the side of the mountain, smiling pleasantly at each satisfying crash. There was an old campsite in the mountains where he planned to spend a weekend and brought everything there along with a tent, firewood, an extra set of winter type clothes and enough lighter fluid to ignite his fire and the grill, with some charcoal briquettes.
