When you are new somewhere, it can be a bit complicated to adapt; the people, the customs, everything can be quite different, and when it is already hard to fit in when you are young, as an adult it gets harder as you get older.
That's what I understood once I had to move to a new city, chasing a good job opportunity. I simply moved to a new city, knowing that the job would provide for my subsistence, and I no longer worried about my social circles. Eventually, friendships drifted away and fitting in at the new workplace was worse than difficult, everyone was kind, but there was really no one close enough to me to share a drink with after work, or a weekend afternoon.
Was then when Jerry invited me to go hunting one day. It was deer season and he wanted to get some, and by my side, I found it a very cool idea. Jerry was a quiet guy, perhaps the most withdrawn guy in the whole office. No one interacted with him at all, but that didn't stop other work mattes from talking about him behind his back, lots of rumours and nonsense. Such a punctual, responsible and discreet guy must be someone relatively normal, or at least that's how I saw him, something like almost my own reflection in that guy.
The day of hunting came and everything went smoothly, I would say we connected quite well, he was very kind, very considerated in everything, and we certainly had a great afternoon. That's when he started telling me more about himself, about his life, about his interests and hobbies, and what caught my attention the most was a hobby that was quite curious to me.
Taxidermy was what he normally used to spend the hours of his lonely days, which I found fascinating. Upon returning, he invited me to stop by his house and showed me his collection. It was impressive. The quality of his pieces was extraordinary, so much so that some even seemed to be alive, they had very natural positions and even expressions and the care and affection he gave to each one was something that undoubtedly made them maintain an immaculate appearance. Yes, it’s something strange, not suitable for everyone, but for those who can appreciate it, it’s pure art.
And I was among those people. I was fascinated, I asked him about his methods, about his tools and finally, he, by himself offered to give me a little lesson on how to do it, to which I gladly accepted. That's how I started to unwind in this little world.
After that, things at the office were better for me, I had finally managed to fit in with someone, and truth be told, it was much nicer than being alone all the time, at least for me. After a while, I used to spend every weekend at Jerry's house, having a beer, having a barbecue or watching a game together, and of course, enjoying our particular hobbies.
At Jerry's house there was a room full of his works, and one special corner was what he called his "chimeras", mixtures of various animals that when combined had a sometimes frightening, but usually fascinating appearance. At the end of that room, a door led to a staircase leading own to the workshop in the basement, and down there, a huge work table stood out in the center, surrounded by all kinds of tools and materials. At the bottom, an almost imperceptible door was visible, yet I never wanted to ask about it. Nor should I have looked behind it.
Rumours about Jerry said he had been married, and his wife had been seen pregnant on a few occasions, but they were never seen with the baby. Eventually, his wife disappeared and they never heard from her again. Everyone assumed that, after losing their child, she simply abandoned him. It was strange, but these things happens, don't they?
All at once it all came together. The horror I saw there made me want to puke and run away in a hurry. Jerry was preparing his masterpiece there, a woman jointed on all fours, like a chimera, with a face of despair and suffering, with little heads sticking out from her back, like little babies peeking out from between her skin, with sunken eyes and features that looked like something out of a nightmare. And if that was scary enough, feeling a hand touching my shoulder from behind didn't help things any better.