Billy: A Tale Of Unrelenting Terror (3 page)

He found that his beady red eyes that gave him so much trouble seeing through the blinding glare of the sunlight endowed him with superior vision in the dark. By sunrise, he was sitting on the front porch of the family home, much to the dismay of Poppie and the boys.

When Billy reached the age of twelve, his family began to grow frightened of him. His awkward movements developed into a cat-like agility that enabled him to move silently with a speed that even the hardiest of swamp predators would envy. Eventually, even Dorcelia relented to her husband’s wishes and looked the other way once again as Poppie sought to inflict unspeakable evil upon his own blood.

"T-Roy, Justin, y’all come on now. We got gator huntin’ to do," Poppie shouted to his two boys as he loaded up the airboat for the upcoming trip. "Billy, you wanna come wit us? Might learn a t’ing or two ‘bout catchin’ a real monster."

Poppie laughed at his own cleverness, while the two boys grinned. Billy peered at the three indecisively for a few moments, sensing another round of abuse that was sure to come his way.

"Come on now; no trick dis time. We goin’ down da
bayou
after
Caimon
Grand
Papere
."

The legendary
Caimon
Grand
Papere
was the biggest, baddest alligator anyone had ever seen. He lived in a notoriously dangerous patch of marshland amongst a sizable congregation of gators that anyone without a death wish avoided at all costs.

The very mention of their destination almost made Billy’s brothers abandon the venture, but they were as afraid of their malevolent father as they were of the beast they were going to hunt.

Billy sensed his brothers’ fear and relished it. Fear was a sensation he had long since abandoned, and he forgot what it felt like to be scared. He did, however, learn to smell fear on his prey, usually right before the kill. The enjoyment of filling his empty belly followed when he was victorious in the hunt, and he unconscientiously trained himself to associate the terror of his quarry at the prospect of its imminent death with the enjoyment of extending his own life. Billy scampered over toward the three and climbed silently into the boat.

He watched with curiosity as the others gathered the materials necessary for the expedition. He recognized his father’s shotgun and T-Roy’s handgun, though these instruments held little interest for him. Billy preferred to hunt his prey up close. The giant metal hook fascinated him. It was fastened to steel cable that was coiled up on the deck. He surmised that some bait would be attached to the line to lure the gators up close, then the guns utilized for the kill. Alligator skin was notoriously thick, and a beast the size of old
Caimon
Grand
Papere
would not go down easily.

Even at Billy’s young age, he had become a master of the hunt. His inability to feel fear, coupled with a lack of nutrition, motivated him to great lengths in search of food. He watched the creatures around him and learned their secrets. Billy’s hands were big and strong for his size; the extra fingers and sharp claw-like nails allowed him to seize prey and exert his will upon it. Every kind of animal became his quarry – fish, turtles, snakes, birds, rabbits, nutria, and the like – met their fate as Billy’s meals. It was only the alligator and the bear that he had avoided. He longed to conquer the challenge that these ferocious predators presented. Then, there would be only one remaining foe left for him to vanquish.

Poppie fired up the engine, and the giant fan behind them began to spin. The noise was incredibly loud, but the sheer euphoria Billy felt when they took off temporarily distracted him from any other sensation. The wind pushed against his face, and he beamed with the unexpected delight inherent with his first experience of speed. He grinned with pleasure and his teeth that he had filed into sharp points gleamed in the bright sunlight. Justin and T-Roy shivered at the sight of their deformed brother’s appearance. To them, Billy looked more like one of the alligators they were hunting than a member of their own family. Poppie felt disgust at the repugnant image of the thing in his boat. He longed for the ride back later in the day without the hideous ogre at their side.

"We gettin’ close now, boys," Poppie shouted out as he cut the motor and the boat drifted up to a quiet spot amongst the reeds and cypress knees jutting up from the water’s surface. "Justin, you watch for dem
boscoyo
. We don’t want a hole in da boat."

Poppie didn’t have to repeat himself; Justin and T-Roy quickly scanned the water for the scattered cypress knots. The thought of being stranded without their boat terrified the two boys, particularly in the vicinity of
Caimon
Grand
Papere
’s lair. Billy shrugged indifferently to the possibility. His red eyes squinted in the daylight, and he searched for any sight of the legendary beast.

Poppie opened a box filled with rotten fish and began to bait the giant metal hook in preparation for the hunt. The stench of the rotting bait caused Billy’s older brothers to gag, a sensation that was unknown to him. He smiled at the displeasure the putrid smell caused his siblings. Justin wretched at the sight of Billy’s grotesque grin, fighting with all of his might to keep from spilling what was left of his breakfast at their feet. His badly deformed brother made him
fremeers
, grossed out. Billy grunted in recognition of his brother’s attention, a sound that disgusted Justin as much as the display of jagged teeth frightened him.

"Dat over dere is da gator pond," Poppie whispered, pointing to a green pool of stagnant water on the other side of a small patch of ground. "Y’all be quiet now, and we’ll tie off to dat cypress tree over dere."

They drifted up and T-Roy tossed a rope around the moss-laden tree, then the four sat quietly awhile and waited. The boys occasionally swatted at the swarm of mosquitoes that harassed them while Billy ignored them completely, transfixed by the beauty of the deadly reptiles in the brackish water nearby. Poppie crept up to the front of the boat and swung the giant hook, letting it go in an attempt to land it in the pond across the embankment. His motion proved strangely awkward, and the hook landed in the mud and out of range of the waiting alligators.

"
Maudit
! Goddamn it, missed by a long shot," he cried out in frustration as he tried in vain to retrieve the hook. "It’s stuck on da
boscoyo
on dat other side. T-Roy, go unhook it, boy."

"No way, Poppie. You
bracque
if you ‘t’ink I’m goin’ over dere."

"Don’t you sass me, boy. You do as I say."

"Justin, you do it. I ain’t ‘bout to climb out of dis boat," T-Roy suggested.

"
Embrasse mon tcheue
! Kiss my ass! No way I’s goin’ out dere," Justin replied.

Without a word, Billy climbed out of the boat and scampered through the mud to unloosen the hook. He watched with fascination as the gators pretended not to see him and slyly drifted up closer to his position in preparation to attack. He freed the hook just in time and turned back toward the boat as the motor roared to life. He stared in disbelief as the men in his family smiled and mockingly waved goodbye, then Poppie kicked the fan up full blast, and it shot out of sight within minutes.

Billy turned back to the approaching predators just in time to see the legendary
Caimon
Grand
Papere
bearing down on him, mouth agape. The ferocity of the beast amazed the boy, and he could smell the foul odor of death from the creature’s gaping jaws before his reflexes kicked in and he swung sideways, causing the gator to miss. The reptile’s powerful jaws snapped shut with a loud pop and, before the giant beast could recover, Billy thrust the sharp end of the metal hook through the animal’s eye and straight down into his skull. The alligator thrashed wildly about, but Billy was already safely out of reach in one of the nearby cypress trees.

Caimon
Grand
Papere
pushed his enormous body back into the pond and rolled, trying desperately to free himself from the vile hook embedded in his skull. He became entangled in the steel cable attached to the hook and quickly found that he was terminally trapped in the metal web. The multitude of hungry alligators he shared the pond with pounced on the helpless prey, tearing into its flesh with reckless abandon.

Billy watched from above with glee as the reptiles fought for the tasty morsels of raw meat. He knew that a new pecking order emerged that day in the alligator pond. At the top, safely perched in the branches overhead, a new king reigned supreme – a boy with a hungry stomach and no fear.  Below, his minions fought their own battles for their place in the cruel hierarchy.
Caimon
Grand
Papere
was no more. The king was dead; long live the king.

Chapter Four

Possede’

P
oppie and the boys were pleased with themselves upon arrival back at the house that evening. Though they had found little in the way of food, their mission had been accomplished when they left the beast behind. Dorcelia grumbled underneath her breath, feigning outrage at the men’s actions, but they knew even she was relieved at Billy’s absence. No one said a word about the missing child through their sparse meal. None of them had any intention of ever mentioning his name again if they could help it.

By nightfall, the boys readied themselves for bed as their mother quietly performed her daily devotions to Jesus. Poppie lazily rocked in his chair, occasionally drawing a puff of low-grade tobacco smoke from his pipe.

"Eeeeeeeaaaaaaaggghhhh!"

The ghastly howl of an unknown predator echoed through the darkness of the swamp, causing the hair on the back of Poppie’s neck to stand at attention. Dorcelia paused in her prayers and looked at Poppie, who had stopped rocking in his chair.

"What da hell was dat?" T-Roy asked with fear.

"You watch dat language, T," Dorcelia chastised her eldest son out of habit, wondering the same thing.

"Shhhh! Y’all hush now. I’m tryin’ to listen," Poppie said. He put his pipe down on the table beside his chair, then stood up and slowly walked over toward the window.

The swamp was quiet outside their cabin. Whatever made that horrific noise temporarily silenced the creatures of the marsh.

"I don’t hear nothin’ now," Justin whispered.

Poppie held a finger to his lips and glanced around the room. They remained silent and strained their ears to discern the source of their fear. The wind occasionally blew against the netting and fishing gear outside, creating a melodic chime-like jingling, accompanied by the soothing rhythm of the tide against the pilings on which their house stood.

"Well, whatever it be, it’s gone now," Poppie proclaimed.

They let out a collective sigh of relief and tried to resume their previous state of comfort, without much success. Dorcelia briefly resumed her mantra before her eyes popped open with panic once again.

"Shhhhhh!" she whispered. "I hear a scratchin’ out front."

The family held their breath and listened intently. Dorcelia was right. The unmistakable sound of claws against wood made its way across their porch and directly to their front door. Poppie reached for his shotgun and slowly crept toward the door, preparing to greet their uninvited guest. He motioned for T-Roy, who positioned himself to the side, and reached over to open the door. A knock shot out of the silence and startled the clan, causing Dorcelia to shriek and Poppie to almost fire off a round.

"Whew eeee! You put dat gun down,
cher
, ‘fore you shoot someone," Dorcelia instructed her husband. "Ain’t no gator gonna come knockin’ at da door,
couyon
!"

Poppie pointed the barrel down and took a deep breath before motioning for T-Roy to answer the door. When it swung open, they were greeted by the dreadful sight of Billy’s red eyes gazing back at them, burning with hatred.

"
Maudit
! Goddamn! How da hell?" T-Roy exclaimed with surprise.

Poppie pulled up the barrel of his Mossberg and fired. Much to his dismay, Dorcelia was already at his side and yanked hard at her husband’s arm, causing his shot to miss. Poppie, Dorcelia, T-Roy, and Justin were in a state of shock. Their senses were overwhelmed by the blast of the shotgun and smell of gunpowder in the tiny room, coupled with disgust and fear of the monster’s unexpected return.

Billy showed no reaction to the commotion. He just stared at the lot of them for a moment before pushing past them on all fours and creeping into the house to share the comforts of home with his unloving family.

The tension in the house began to swell. It was clear to all of them that Billy was growing fast and out of their control. He was nowhere near the idiot they’d assumed he was. Although he never spoke, they could see that he understood them better than they’d thought him capable of. Billy was getting stronger by the day, smarter by the minute, and consequently, more dangerous. Even Dorcelia began to fear the boy, yet she still refused to allow Poppie to kill him outright. For the time being, all they could do was to give Billy a wide berth and keep a watchful eye on the beast.

One day, when the St. Pierres travelled into town for supplies and Sunday mass, they heard the story of the missing pipeline worker. One of the Exxon crew was doing some routine inspections deep in the marshland when he disappeared. Sheriff Galliano was asking everybody if they might have any ideas as to the man’s whereabouts, but no one knew anything.

One of the deputies requested that the St. Pierres keep an eye out since they lived the furthest out in the swamp and knew it better than most. Poppie assured the deputy that he would do whatever he could, though he doubted the man could have survived long on his own in the hostile environment. It was understood by all that they’d most likely be on the lookout for what was left of the man’s corpse, but this unpleasant fact remained unspoken in the presence of the women and children.