It was about 8pm, you walked into the butcher shop to pick up some meat for yourself to try and cook something instead of buying takeout for the 500th time.

The owner of the place was Bob Velseb. He flashed you a large grin, though friendly- something in his eyes unnerved you. He ushered you over to the counter.

“Welcome darlin’, have a look at today’s fine cuts.” He spoke in his thick country accent, watching you like a hawk. His eyes seemed to linger on you in an odd way for a bit.

You notice some odd looking meats at the end. It didn’t look like anything you’ve seen, and it was called “Bob’s Special.” You didn’t think much about it, but something in your gut was churning…