Inktober 2022
Oct. 16: Fowl

On this uneventful Monday morning, I sat at my usual seat in the corner of my favourite coffee shop, I sipped at my usual latté, scrolling through my social media feeds as I brainstormed for my next illustration project, sketchbook and pens at the ready. I stared out the large window, looking at the cars passing by and the people walking idly in the morning sunlight. It was quite the relaxing sight. Perhaps I could do some live-drawing. It’d be good exercise and also worth posting.

But just as I grabbed my pencil and raised my head once more, of course, two men holding coffees dressed in neat, but big looking jackets sit down onto the table right before mine, blocking my view of the street. A little irritated, I straightened myself up in my seat and looked around the shop inconspicuously. There were other empty seats. Why’d they have to come to the one right next to mine? I didn’t know the nearly isolated corner was such a popular spot.

With a mental grumble, I turned in my seat to look over the room and I started etching out a few reference spots of the barista’s station. I worked swiftly, adding more and more lines to carve out the shapes, the scene slowly being transferred from real life to paper. As I finished my first sketch and began drawing vague circles while I searched for my next model, my ears subconsciously turned to the conversation from the table beside me.

« …Hell, am I glad to be done with that case. » The one sitting closest to me huffed in a deep voice, taking a bite of a glazed donut. « Some of that stuff is ranked pretty high up on my list of disturbing stuff I’ve ever heard in this lifetime. »

« Yeah, you’re definitely right about that. » The other continued, sipping on his coffee. « Never thought anyone would try to copy Robert Pickton. »

I replayed the name in my head a couple of times. Now where had I heard that before? Too curious, but also forgetful, I opted to swipe open my phone to ask the good old Internet. As soon as I typed in ‘robert pic’, ‘Robert Pickton’ popped up as a suggestion, with the words ‘serial killer’ right beneath it. So that’s why it was familiar; it was that guy who killed and fed his victims to pigs!

Once I had satisfied my curiosity, I suddenly remembered the context in which this conversation was brought up. « Never thought anyone would try to copy Robert Pickton. » I quickly realized that something was not right here so I turned my gaze to the next table, but the seated men had already finished their food and drinks, starting to gather their things. Just as I prepared to sigh in defeat for having lost the context of such a grim sentence, the man who sat closest to me suddenly spoke again, as though reminiscing.

« Didn’t know chickens were omnivorous. »

Immediately after, he and his companion headed for the door, the jingle of the doorbells and a quick greeting by the barista announcing their departure, leaving me mainly confused and a bit worried. A whole multiverse of possibilities popped into my head as I thought up scenarios in which such a sentence could be used, thoughts spiralling towards terrifying prospects.

I quickly opened another search window and typed in; « robert pickton chickens ». Once the results appeared, I felt a small shiver run down my spine as I read through the first headlines.

« Murderer fed victim to chickens. »

« Murderer of 28 year old woman admits to being ‘inspired’ by Robert Pickton. » Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

« Has your supermarket fowl eaten human? »

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