Mac was a scumbag. A no good waste of existence who spread nothing but misery. It was common knowledge, no secret. Few if any shed a tear when they heard the news. Had it coming many thought, was what he deserved they'd proudly state. They were right. He was a vicious bastard that was asking for it and in the end, you reap what you sow. Who was responsible though? The life Mac led made the possibility of being murdered an occupational hazard. The police believed that he was killed by a rival who he'd had a disagreement with. It didn't stretch the realms of probability but it wasn't that simple. See it wasn't Mac's death that was shocking, it was the details of his murder. The police kept quiet about it and even managed to keep it out the papers. Didn't matter, we all knew. News travels fast in a small village. And the news of the brutal butchering of Jonny "Mac" Andrews got around fast. Ripped apart. Flesh torn from his body and nailed to the walls of his living room. Skinned alive before being hacked to death. Still that last part is speculation. Regardless, there was truth in the rumours. The look on David Matheson's face hid nothing of the horror he witnessed. That look he had when he entered the pub. He was hysterical, pure terror etched into his face, defining his features. We tried to calm him down, but he wasn't having it. He was nonsensical at first but we managed to prise the story from him. Turns out he owed Mac some money as did most people. When Mac didn't come collecting, David decided to take the money to him. He knew a late payment only added interest regardless of who was at fault. So he took the money and headed over to Mac's post haste. When he managed to pluck up the courage to knock on the door he was greeted without reply. Still, ever fearful of those interest rates, David tried the door which you could argue was a bit risky. It proved to be risky, for his metal health at least. All he had to do was slip that money under the door with a note. That was all and maybe he'd still be able to sleep at night if he had done just that. Instead he found Mac, or at least what resembled him, decorating the living room. We didn't know whether to believe him or not. David liked his drugs now and then, for all we knew he hadn't even been to Mac's. Still, curiosity and all that, I decided to take a look. Unfortunately for me, the police were a step ahead. They pulled up at the house as I turned the corner. I had to stop, I had no real reason I could tell them for being here. Within seconds a police officer ran from the house. I could seen him vomit all over his nice uniform. Must have been some sight. It didn't take long for a crowd to form. I liked that, I could blend in better. We watched as the different authorities entered the house. Paramedics and forensics; all sick. A lot of people were glad that Mac died. Many debts forgot about. Including my own I may add. If it wasn't for his overwhelming greed, he may not have took those valuable trinkets from me. I could feel I was so close to learning the secret of one in particular, I cursed the son of a bitch as he pried it from my hands. Punching my face and pummeling me into submission, he had taken my puzzle. The one I was so close to completing. I planned my revenge meticulously, kill the bastard, finish my puzzle. Turns out Mac did that for me. He took what was rightfully mine. The box punished him for his perfidy, and he was compensated in kind. I think the police have the box now; either that or it's still in the house. Covered in his entrails and cleansed with his blood. I wonder, how I will get it back? I've still work to do.