Chapter 10.1

Past - July 23, 1987

A blanket of stress wrapped around Mr. Hamstring's body as stumbled into his boss' office. He had been called down for something important but it hung the air of what this important thing was. Mr. Hamstring, spending several moments collecting himself in the bathroom before heading down to the office, considered the options and landed on the fact he may be fired. He didn't know what he would be fired over but it rattled down to something as small as mixing up the coffees.

When he entered the room, Mr. Hamstring was greeted by the familiar sight of his boss. He was hunched over the desk with papers and behind the man was another man, who was wearing a tan suit. They were muttering while the man being the desk was pointing at a piece of paper on the desk. Mr. Hamstring coughed slightly, which caused the two men to look up at the interruption.

"Ah, Edward, glad you can finally join us," the boss spoke up. The tan suited man stepped back and put his hands behind his back, looking down at Edward. "Come, come. Have a seat. We were just discussing some important matters."

Mr. Hamstring went towards and sat down in one of two velvet seats there were facing the dark oak desk. His boss gestured for the tan suit man to lean down and when the latter did so, he whispered something. The man then grunted and slipped past the desk and towards the door, which opened and closed silently. Mr. Hamstring gulped, rubbing his hands along his pants.

"Now, Edward, before we get into anything, how do you feel about working here?" His boss asked. The question hung in the air, tightening around Hamstring's throat as he pressed his fingers into his pants.

"I feel glad to be here, sir. There are a lot of good peopl-"

"Eddie, how would you like to be promoted?"

Mr. Hamstring stopped midsentence and blinked at his boss. "Excuse me?"

"Listen, I'm leaving for a bit to handle some things and I want to hand the club over to you. That's what I and Johnny were talking about. Figuring out the odds and ends of how to hand it over to you. All I need you to say is yes."

"Sir, with all due respect-"

"Edward, I want to show you something."

The boss got up from the desk and moved to a bookcase that was the desk. He reached up and pulled down a leather bonded book. It was dusty with gold lettering on the bind and cover. The boss then headed back to the desk and placed the book down on the table with a soft thump. He then opened it and when he did, dust and other particles danced up to the lights. Inside, there was cursive letting on lines that stretched upon miles and miles on the pages. Mr. Hamstring tried reading it upside but after attempting, sank deeper into his velvet chair.

"Now, I want to tell you a little story of this club and how it came into existence," the boss started out. He then flipped to the beginning of the book and pressed a finger to the page. "The founder, Patrick Van Wheeldonburg, decided to make this club with some of his friends back in the late 40s or so. It started out as just your typical assassination with killing hired targets and of the such.

"Now the club was copartnered with another fellow by the name of Henry Speare. Speare was an evil man who wanted to make the club bigger and better than what it was. So, he decided to kill for his own management. Stabbing, skinning these victims, and using whatever he could to create different items such as lamps and masks, which he would wear around town during Halloween," he explained. The boss then grabbed pages and flipped to another section of the book.

"Now, after this happened, the club started to gain more of a rep from both the public and mobsters in Shanesburg. Patrick began to worry and decided to hand down the club to someone other than his right-hand man. He didn't tell Henry of this and pretended to lead the club for two weeks before disappearing randomly one day. Henry was furious and went out on the current members of the club until he also disappeared.

"The club then started circling through different people after the current leader. All of the names in this book are of people who have disappeared. It is kind of an inside job between those who joined and the club began to go more into the spotlight and then fade away when something new came along.

"Now," the boss closed the book and looked up at Mr. Hamstring. "Since I told you the background of why I'm asking you, I consider you take it or something horrible may or may not happen to your family or maybe even you." He then smiled with his chin on top of his hands. "What do you say, Eddie?"

Present - July 30, 1987

Mr. Hamstring messed with the picture on his desk for the third time. Nervousness was settling over his body and the atmosphere was thick was suspense. In front of him sat Detective Travis Seymour. He was tapping a pen against the pad of paper and sitting cross-legged. There was a firm line across his face and his brown mop of hair was all over the place.

"I want you to go back to the beginning," Travis said slowly.

Mr. Hamstring gulped, peering away from the picture and nodded. "Both Fredrick and Benjamin were apart of our club for a long while. Fredrick ran the club for a time and Benjamin helped as his second-hand man or something minor such as fixing a pipe. The last time I saw Fredrick and Benjamin was the day of the party. There was something odd about Fredrick. I couldn't really describe it but-"

"We've been over that part. Tell me how Fredrick was before you took over."

Mr. Hamstring nodded, tighten his hand grip around each other. "He-he really did care a lot about the club. He wanted the best for everyone. When he told me he was leaving and he wanted me to take over the club, I could tell something was wrong. I couldn't place my finger on what was bothering him but I knew if I tried, something would happen. I don't know what would happen but-"

"Skipping forward, Hamstring," Travis muttered while writing down something on his notepad.

Mr. Hamstring glared at the younger man in front of him. "As I was saying, he was hiding something. Most of the times, Fredrick would leave with Benjamin and then leave the club on the loose, which most of the time wasn't as crazy as I expected. Then when Fredrick and Benjamin returned, usually Fredrick came first and Benjamin later on in the night, they both looked winded and red in the face. But I didn't question this.

"One day after Benjamin's murder, I received a letter in the mail," Mr. Hamstring explained. He then opened one of the drawers and pulled out a letter. He gave it to Travis, who reached out and grabbed it. "The contents of it are cryptic as it didn't have a return address or who even wrote it. The words are wonky and in some places, it looks like someone spilled coffee on it or glued something on top of it and ripped it off."

Travis nodded. "Do you mind if I keep this? Evidence and such."

Mr. Hamstring waved a hand and laughed awkwardly. "Not at all. If it aids in your research, by all means, take it."

Travis then placed the letter into his coat pocket and flipped to a new page of the notepad. The intensity continued to rise and Mr. Hamstring fiddled more with his fingers. Travis looked up and flipped to another page in notepad. "Now, where were you on the day of the murder?"