Scarleton Series I : Before the Cult (4 page)

Macfearson
sighed, grabbed the bottle and opened it with his mouth. “ You guys
should really learn how to do this.” He gave it to
Macxermillio.

“No thanks,”
replied Macxermillio as he poured the beer into the glass. He slid
it to me. “There you go, Sandz.”

I stared at it,
suddenly overwhelmed. “I can’t go to supper guys.” Tears began
blurring my view. “Eating is work. I can’t keep doing it anymore.
Feels like I’m forcing food down my throat and chokin’ myself. I
don’t have the energy to keep going there or being out there. I am
tired guys. I just wanna be alone and stay alone. I don’t wanna see
anyone or talk to anyone. I can’t go to supper. I just wanna sleep
now and…maybe never wake up.”

Macxermillio
nodded. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry
guys.”

“Are you gonna
do that after your drink?” Macfearson asked.

I stared at the
gold beer, bubbles racing to the top. “I don’t feel like drinking
anymore.”

I turned to my
bed measuring the energy and the will it would take to be in it
including all the associated activities like taking my shoes and
clothes off. The calculations’ results were daunting.

“Macx?”

“Huh?”

“Can you put me
to bed please?” I wept.

He lifted me
off the chair with his arm placed under my knees and the other
under my shoulder blades. I was a dead weight in his arms. He
placed me in bed, took my shoes off and pulled my pants off. Then
he covered me with the duvet.

He patted my
arms. “Sleep well.”

I could only
manage to thank him mentally.

“Would you like
us to leave?” Macfearson asked.

I did not
answer.

“Sandz?”

I could not
respond. The truth is I did not care or know the answer.

“Okay,” said
Macxermillio. “Um…we gonna take the rest of your bottles to the
fridge in case you want it later.”

Upon opening my
eyes from sleep I saw a figure sitting in a chair watching me sleep
or waiting until I wake up. I froze in my sleeping position. In the
silence, the figure leaned back in the chair with his legs crossed.
He appeared to be wearing a robe, his tall silhouette seemed to
suggest. No noises came from the hallway which was a sign that it
was late at night. The life of the residence was inactive, some
students must be already in bed, went out or were surfing the
internet or using their computer for something else absorbing.

Sweat broke on
my brow and I strained my breath. After a few minutes I gathered
enough strength to say something. I figured the best strategy would
be to exert enough confidence and surprise the intruder by not
sounding caught off guard.

“What the hell
are doing?” I said.

If he is
here to kill me that would be nice
, I thought.

The figure
leaned forward. He murmured , “You don’t need to do it anymore. We
heard him speak in the hallway we got the information we
needed.”

“Who?” I
frowned.

“ Jay,” it was
Macxermillio. “We are nabbing him tonight. If you want you could
rest, we only sampling him tomorrow. Me and Fearson can handle
him.” I could sense him smiling in the dark. “Prepare to bid him
farewell.”

“Thank you.
What were you doing?”

“I was just
watching you sleep.”

I frowned.
“That’s kinda weird.”

“Well, I wanted
to tell you face to face. I had to wait. I know how you hate being
woken up.”

He stood up and
walked to the door, the floor creaked under his weight. He opened
the door and stood in the doorway, the florescent light from the
hallway fell into my room, laying his giant shadow across. He
glanced my way. “Goodnight, Sandz. You know, after tomorrow we
won’t have to live like this anymore…if all goes well.”

“Goodnight,
Macx.”

He closed the
door behind him and the darkness took over the room again.

One of those
things that weren’t for sober minds was the sampling.

We were not
afraid of death whether it was the image of it or the sight of it
or its imminence. We honoured and revered it; if it came we would
embrace it. We wanted to die (both because of the pain of our
existence here and the fact it could transport us where our
existence is welcomed), but we just had to do it right. The trick
of the sampling was tormenting the soul and the body of the sample
until we broke its will to carry on living in this world, much like
the same tormenting worthlessness this world imposes on us until
suicide presents itself as the only way. We did whatever it took,
decapitation, drowning, flaying, mutilation and all sorts of
torture, to make them grovel for their own death. We offer them a
way out in a form of suicide we choose. This way their state of
mind is bit similar to ours, their death is self-inflicted and
possibly when they transition we will be able to tell from
observing their eyes where they end up (heaven, hell or our home).
It can take days, weeks or months to get them to that state but we
always managed to push them there. If the way of suicide, which is
a form of transportation of the soul, is discovered that would take
us home (as the calling made us feel) we would do it without a
flinch. It’s not the pain that concerns us, the more the pain the
better (Macxermillio says you will be able to feel the death on
you, you will be able to feel the journey and that the pain is
equivalent to the road in some instances). To dwell about is
endless torture; each creature deserves to be in a place where it
rightfully belongs, its habitat. A place of belonging is an
integral part of one’s person-hood. If it is death it takes to feel
like a person, even remotely, then death is what we shall accept
with an immeasurable joy and gratitude. The quest to attain our
person-hood is not an easy one, it is not without sin or evil.

The blade of
the sword sunk into his bicep like a blazing knife through a cold
block of butter, it was just a slit.

Sweet sweet
beautiful blood
, I gasped mesmerised at its sight. Excited.

The sample
flinched into consciousness. “Oh shit! “

“It’s about
time you woke up,” Macfearson spoke. “We’ve been waiting ever so
patiently.”

“Shit! Fuck!
Sandy, what is this?” He tried tugging his left hand off the wall,
unsuccessfully so. He was cuffed with beast depowering iron cuffs
attached to the stone cobbled wall, hinges reinforced into the
wall. His ankles suffered the same fate. We had stripped him off,
spread him like a canvas. Our own little Jesus.

“Sandy, you
bitch! You sick freak! Fuck you!” he raged, I loved watching his
belly tremble as he did. “Help! Help!”

Macxermillio
comically looked around. “Huh? Looks like nobody cares. Or is it
that they can’t hear you?” He cackled with an almost lunatic
revelry.

“Help! Help !
Hel- “Macfearson punched him in the stomach.

“Why do you
think you’re not gagged? “ Macfearson rhetorically asked, glaring
at him.

Macxermillio
was behind me on a crate of beer, sipping on a 750ml. The place was
wrecked and had been abandoned for years unknown to us. Dirt
accumulated on the floor, collapsing ceiling spilling its insides,
mould, woodpile scattered around, bins, paper and plastic. The
Sampling Chamber, as we had named it, was Macxermillio’s find. Far
away from the city or the
lifelings
. Perfect for a sampling
ritual. It was dark and gloomy with just enough light for a
deathling
to dwell in, which was little light (that was how
we preferred it). I could sense generations of ghosts of the
persons who once stayed on the abandoned farm scampering about and
watching us, lonely spirits of the country side being treated to
some horror style entertainment every time we visited. If they
cowered in repulsion or horror, it was way better than the decades
of boredom and un-eventfulness that this place was accustomed
to.

“You freak!
You’re mad you know that?” He continued, “What you gonna do? Kill
me? “

“It’s actually
weird that you are asking me this question when you have always
known the answer. Do you remember what you said to your mates?” I
softly spoke my eyes fixed on the blood, felt the hurt, anger and
hatred towards him simmer like pins and needles.

He did not
respond, only wriggled and panted hopelessly.

“Either way,
don’t you think it’s a bad idea for a person in your situation to
be so mean?”

Silence.

“Let me remind
you ,” my voice mellow to my ears, every word making my compulsion
and anger worse, “You told me, in front of your mates , that if I
go on a killing spree to remember to spare you. Now why would you
believe that and always managed being an ass to me? Belittle me,
humiliate me in front of others?”

“I was joking,
just messing around. You know how the guys are. That’s what guys
do, I did not mean tune you, Sandy!” he spluttered.

“And I didn’t
mean to get hurt,” A dark smile flickered across my face. This was
exhilarating every time, never got used to it. “Answer honestly.
You have always seen me as a freak, right?”

“C’mon, man,
let’s not do this!” He wept.

We devoured the
moment, the moment of complete power over another person’s
will.

“You are a
freak! Fuck, you not even one bit human! You are insane! “He
shrieked.

I am not
human
, I cognitively agreed.

“You see that
is why we are, Jay. I am not human. I don’t belong here,” I
shrugged, “We both know it. That is why you gave me a hard time.
That is why we need you to be our little Jesus today.”

The calling
stronger than ever, I stared down at my feet.
Lifelings
are
creatures devoid of tolerance. They deserve anything lesser than
mercy because they never grant it either.

“I am gonna
kill you, Sandy, when I get down. Even in my death, I swear to God,
I am gonna make sure I make your life a living hell,” Jay
threatened.

I disappointed
him with my bland incongruent response. “If you were somebody else,
another student, I would have been kinder, but you see it’s people
like you that don’t deserve that. If not all of you
lifelings
.” I paused. “Tell me. What would you do to be home
right now, Jay? To see your parents or your loved ones? To go back
the res? Or whatever shit you’re into? I hear moments like these
make people ponder how they have lived their lives and usually they
discover what matters most or what mattered most. I know that you
have that thing in your mind, tell me what would you do right now
to get out of this situation?”

“Everything,”
he pleaded, his face sweating with desperation.

“Tell me, Jay.
Who likes desperate people?”

“Uh-um. No
one,” he mused, his breath trembling under the weight of fear.

“Why are you
being so desperate then? Chill out, man.”

“Okay. Yeah,
whatever you want man.”

I sighed.
“Whatever I want? Fuck, what did I say about being fuckin’
desperate, Jay? “

“Nobody likes a
desperate person. I’m sorry. “He spluttered.

“Fuck, man!
This is so hopeless. Now you’re sorry?”

“I don’t know
what you want me to do, okay! Fuck, man. You’re messing with me!”
He bawled.

“Good. I
imagine your balls.” I mused.

“My balls?” He
asked, confused.

“You would give
your balls to see your family again, wouldn’t you?”

He stayed quiet
for a while. “I guess so.”

“It’s either
you know or you don’t!” I grabbed his ball sack. He whimpered and
trembled, eyes tightly shut. “If you are not sure make up your mind
real quick.” Placed the blade of my folding knife on the base.

“Shhhhiiit!” He
shuddered and gasped. “ Uhhh…give me…give me some time, okay? Just
a few seconds, please!”

“Fuck. You’re
not losing your balls just answer the goddam question, okay? “I
replied in exasperation.

“Okay. Yes, Yes
I would!” He cried.

“Good. Very
good, Jay. Now I can move on.” Pause.” You see, Jay, I wanna go
home too. Where I truly belong. To the fields and the crop. We are
going to film your face while you die to solve the transition
puzzle I suppose. So is be a good genie pig, okay?”

“Is this some
kind of a morbid cult?” He scowled, incredulous.

“Do you know
anything of the crop, Jay?”

“No. What the
fuck is that?”

“If you do just
tell us.”

“No, I
don’t.”

I examined him.
“Swallowing tough news like a man, huh? Trying too hard not to seem
desperate? Good boy! Your eyes are big. We will be able to make out
all you will see.” Pause. “Oh, Jay, I have been waiting so long for
this. The compulsion was just too much, or shall I say the
calling?” I found my face warmed with a grin, thinking of how it
was all worth the wait and trouble.

His brow
greased, clearly confused.

“Let me do the
honours, today,” I asked Macfearson.

“I will give
you a chance, but I’m still the one who gets to spit his skull when
you are done,” He spoke with enthusiasm, like a kid about to have a
slice of his birthday cake.

This was the
day, my holy fucking day.

“As long as I
get to shove the barbed wire dildo into his ass.”

Macxermillio
added, “Love me some painul!”

The sun shone
through the windshield as it drowned into the horizon. It rather
drown than grace such monstrosities like us with its warmth. That
we respected, that we expected. The dirt road was peculiarly bumpy,
not shying from expressing its discomfort and dislike. That we
detested. Its judgemental and callous attitude rattling our truck
to its joints and bolts. That was to be expected from a dirty dirt
road, but this afternoon the mood was not that gracious in the
truck. It was one accompanied with clenching jaws and flaring
nostrils. An atmosphere not fond of intrusion of distraction.