CHAPTER 1: A DATE WITH DEATH

An apparition of doom is what the room depicted. The operating table was enough evidence that the previous encounter was a bloody one. The thought of the scalpel penetrating his skin gave him goose bumps. This was a serial killer’s den and today he would add to his tally. The dust coat on the small study table was an indication enough that this guy was up to no jokes.

Breathing heavily, he looked around the room for anything that could help him out of this situation. The straps on his arms and limbs had been fastened so tight that his fingers and toes numbed. The smell in the room alone surpassed the stink of a skunk, the smell of death. The whole spectrum of odor was emphasized in the room, from fresh blood to rotten flesh. On the right side of the operating table were shelves all stacked with souvenirs in large glass jars, from severed arms, genitalia and several internal organs. The place was creepy and Ousolyf knew that it was just a few minutes and he would be statistics.

The killer had left an hour glass running for the victim to be aware that even time couldn’t change his fate, it was just a few grains and Ousolyf’s fate would be sealed. He felt helpless, a feeling that he had always loathed, something he had tried to conquer. He was bullied in school up until his final year. At the age of sixteen, he was raped by an unknown assailant making him unable to control his defecation for almost a year. Today he had been put in the same position, no place to run to, his life was dependent on the killer’s mercy. He felt bad, he could not feel his fingers and toes. His throat was very dry from dehydration. The thought of death gave him shivers, a strength that he couldn’t imagine crept into his thin muscles like water during a high tide. He pulled with all his strength but the straps did not budge, they were pure leather, well-tanned and fastened by an expert. After several minutes of struggling without avail he decided that his doom had arrived. He closed his eyes and awaited his demise.

The heat from his body evaporated alongside the sweat. A super cold chill ran down his entire body. The stench of death filled his nostrils. The horrible thought of decapitation caressed his mind with such a diabolical sequence. He was now shivering, his pupils dilated courtesy of the fear that now held his whole-body captive.

‘the thought of death is the real horror’ came the husky voice of the killer.

‘Death itself is such a beautiful thing’

Ousolyf thoughts came to an abrupt halt at the voice of the assailant. His presence changed the atmosphere of the room. The cologne that he wore had a strong smell, the kind that you never forget. He was adorning a long sleeved stripped blue shirt, neatly pressed and the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His trousers were a dark shade of beige. He was a big man, about six feet tall with an athletic frame. He wore glasses with a thick lens and a surgical mask covered his mouth and nose. Just above his glasses there was a pair of eyebrows, thick and naturally contoured.

‘We are going to have some good time’

Good time? Ousolyf thought. This lunatic was going to eviscerate him in this God forsaken place and he dared say that.

‘Could you just use a gun’ Ousolyf asked,

‘Where is the fun in that’ he said with a chuckle

‘I cannot miss the intrigue at the sight of your spilled guts and cranial content’

He said this as he spread his tools of trade on a small table adjacent to the operating table. Ousolyf was now shaken to the point of death. He thought to beg for mercy but that was too late. A conversation with the person who was fashioning his destiny wouldn’t hurt, he thought.

‘You can at least use a sedative’ Ousolyf managed to initiate a conversation

’Then it won’t be artistic, an artist needs an audience for the performance. I mean, think of it like a ballad, would you waste all that pomp and color for a blind and mute audience?

It worked; the psychopath fell right in to it. This shone some light of hope in Ousolyf. He knew that if he managed to prick the man’s ego things could escalate and lead to his quick death or he could get a chance to live.

‘Then you could use some anesthesia’ Ousolyf continued with his questions.

‘The intrigue is preceded by the pain. Without suffering there is no impression left by the performer’

‘Okay, why am I the bound to this table? Are you afraid that the prey might become the predator?’

A moment of silence passed before he responded. There was a change in his voice, a tinge of frustration as he spoke.

‘If I were the one performing, I would just paralyze you, but that isn’t the case.’

That isn’t the case? This was bad news for Ousolyf. The killer had an accomplice. The light at the end of the tunnel blinked in to a deep darkness and the horrors came back. He had no play remaining. After the brief announcement of an accomplice he left.

A moment later, Ousolyf’s devil resurfaced, this time in the company of his demon. The other person was a bit shorter and smaller in stature. From the walking Ousolyf could tell that it was a woman. She approached the table stared at Ousolyf for a moment then proceeded. She took a marker pen from the table and came closer to the operating table. The lab safety suit that she was wearing covered almost every inch of her body. The safety goggles exposed a set of eyes, young and familiar, it was a girl. It was worse than he thought, he was going to be killed by an amateur. His death was going to be brutal and at the hands of a ‘toddler’, his fear grew even more. She leaned forward and started making marks on his chest and the lower part of his torso. The tip of the marker pen was cold, this just made his fear grow so extreme that he felt the butterflies in his stomach go on a wild dance. His heart was pumping hard against his chest. His sweating was becoming profuse and tension was growing by the second.

His assailant then unwrapped a big leather fold and exposed an assortment of surgical instruments. From the number of tools, one could tell that this was not the first time they were doing this. She caressed the tools for the best choice. Funny enough she arrived to the very obvious one, a long scalpel that indicated prior experience. She toyed around with it moving around Ousolyf as if to decide the part to begin with. For Ousolyf the horror was becoming real he could feel a sudden urge to piss.

After a moment of consultation with her evil self she arrived to whatever conclusion she was looking for. She moved closer to the operating table and adjusted the lights moving them closer to illuminate the chest area. By now Ousolyf had no bargaining chip, his fate was sealed and depended on the conscience of this young lady. He decided to throw one last word at the decapitator, kicks of a dying horse.

‘You really find pleasure in this right?’ he managed a sentence

‘I mean, its not worth it, you don’t have to do this’

It was not working, the assailant continued with his business unperturbed. Maybe a compliment to her beauty would work some magic. Nobody hates a compliment, he thought.

‘With all this grandeur you would defile yourself with this?’

There was silence yet again but this time she hesitated and for a second stopped wiping the scalpel with a gauze dipped in alcohol. Ousolyf was good at mind manipulation and on seeing that, he immediately knew that he had a chance. All serial killers had a reason as to why they started killing. Usually lame but a reason nevertheless.

All odds were against him, he felt blood pressure in his veins rise intensely. His heartbeat escalated, it thumped loudly against the silence in the room. Rivulets of sweat ran down his face dropping on the cold operating table. He looked around one last time before he resigned his fate to the killer. The room was dimly lit by an oil lamp that rested on a stand just above his head. The large lights above his head had been put on. The idea that came to his mind was crazy and dangerous. He had decided to try and free himself no matter the consequences. He could hear from outside that there was a storm brewing the thunder was getting more frequent and it had started raining.

There was the flickering of the huge lights then the darkest shade of black filled the room. Everything seemed to disappear, dissolving in to oblivion. This was a chance to escape though the straps were still tight. There was a weird silence for a moment then a loud thunder which was preceded by a bright lightening strike. It was a few seconds yet it seemed like a lifetime. Events that followed would seal the deal for his destiny. The lightening had started a fire on the wooden shelves that held the killer’s trophies. The fire had started growing and soon enough the whole room would be in flames. The room was beginning to be lit again.

A rise in temperature and the accumulating smoke was beginning to take a toll on him. On a closer look Ousolyf realized that a tree branch was hanging inside the room close to the entrance, that is where the water was getting in from.

To be continued…

CHAPTER 2: BOWEL EXEUNT

He walked with haste towards the twinkling light in the distance. The shadows of the tall buildings in the moon lit night seemed to be staring threateningly at him. The poorly lit streets of downtown Nairobi were always creepy at such times, something he had always dreaded. He trudged down the alley, his dim shadow trailing behind him like a creepy predator pursuing potential prey. Ghastly images kept creeping in his mind as he traversed the now silent alley. The loneliness in the alley gave him the creeps, he could feel the blood pressure in his veins rise intensely, his heartbeat escalated. Rivulets of sweat ran down his face as he increased his pace, he had this feeling that he was being followed.

Looking back to ascertain that he wasn’t being paranoid he bumped into a figure right at the intersection of the alley and another street. It was dark, he couldn’t make out his apparent assailant. He was petrified, his muscles went stiff, he was not paranoid, someone had been following him all along. Before he could do anything, the huge figure swept him off his feet and in a few moments his hands and feet were bound together. He struggled to free himself from the ropes to no avail. He then resorted to screaming but the assailant had proper muting plans for him, he was gagged with a cloth that smelt like spirit. The assailant ripped down his pants, he was feeling dizzy. The assailant had a strong perfume, his eyes were hazy and he could only see blurred images. He felt a sharp pain in his behind.

Ousolyf was awaken by the smell of rotting vegetables and the buzz of flies. It was dawning and he could avouch that he was not in his bedroom. The little noises coming from the little crowd that had soon gathered reminded him that he was not in the comfort of his home. He couldn’t recall anything, his head felt drowsy and there was a sharp ache

An elderly man was looking down at him

‘What happened here son?’

‘Are you hurt?’

‘Can I call your parents?’

All these questions kept ricocheting in Ousolyf’s head increasing the headache. The pain in his lower back was so intense he fell back into the filth when he tried to stand. His feet were cold, his leather shoes were cutting in his ankles. There were all kinds of feelings in his body, exhaustion and back pain being felt more. Everything was slowly coming to shape. He was lying in a dumpster his pants torn. People were milling about him and there was a strange smell he kept recounting, a strong perfume, he could smell it even in the garbage.

An ambulance arrived moments later and he was wheeled inside, he passed out again

***

The flickering lights in the ceiling caught his attention, there was the smell of alcohol and drugs

‘He has come to’ he heard an unfamiliar voice

‘Hey Ouso, son am here’

That was his mother, he could never mistake that voice. He had been hearing this voice since he was born.

‘Am I in the hospital?’ he managed to croak a sentence

‘Yes son, relax you will be okay’

‘What happened?’ he managed a hiss.

‘You were found on the street wounded’ Eva paused for a response.

‘Do you remember anything?’ Ousolyf was quiet just staring at his mother

All he could remember was bumping into a huge man and the smell of spirit and… and a strong perfume. Everything else was a patchwork of short videos resonating in his mind.

‘I do not remember anything mum’ he said trying to raise his head.

‘Just keep still son, your back is injured.’

The pain from his back travelled in his entire body like fireworks. His head was heavy and he could feel a slight headache. Things were slowly taking shape in his mind. The taste of iron in his mouth was because of blood from a bitten lip. He could remember being gagged and bound with a sisal rope. He looked at his wrists, they were bruised, they appeared tango and there was a little itch…

To be continued

CHAPTER 3: LOVE BITE

The comics store was a place Ousolyf had learnt to cherish, it gave him serenity, it was a place he felt calm. Almost all the latest collections were stacked in his bedroom, he had a whole library of them. On Saturdays, classes ended before noon and the rest of the afternoon was spent at the store. When he was not rehearsing at the KNT he would be at the store. He loved this particular store not only because they were always up to date but also because of the cashier, Clara, such a beauty. She always made Ousolyf nervous and eager to see her at the same time, so confusing. Her voice was music to Ousolyf’s ears, her presence always knocked out some of his brain cells. He would never think any time she was in close proximity to her.

The young lady, Clara was something to behold. To Ouso she was like the moon, shining all in her glory with such grandeur, this made everything about his person oblivious. She was quite of the stature, medium height not big rounded body and of light complexion. Her large eyes glowed with a certain luminescence that anyone looking at her felt an impulsive urge to stare. When she smiled her ever scarlet painted lips gaped to expose two magnificent rows of teeth white like the inside of a coconut. She was a true definition of beauty, a sight Ousolyf always looked forward to.

This particular Saturday afternoon, Ousolyf passed by the store like he routinely did. One of the doors to the store was closed and this was an indication that it could soon be closed. He however urged on and went forth to the store. As he went through the door he almost collided with Clara. Startled she dropped the padlock she was carrying and she froze.

‘You scared me, that is creepy. And… we are closed.’

‘You could spare a minute for a regular I suppose?’

‘Yeah sure, but don’t be long.’

Ousolyf didn’t know what else to say. He had been at the store less than two days ago and was sure there wasn’t anything new. Some untold force was pushing him to be here. He knew that if he did not tell Clara what he felt he would succumb to anxiety. She was right in front of him but had no clue on how to say it. Clara was a third-year student at a local university and Ousolyf was still in his first year at medical school, that made it even more difficult.

‘Hey Ouso, you need something?’

This brought his delusion to an abrupt halt. He had been standing there staring at Clara in stupor for a whole minute saying nothing. His mind had drifted to a mystical world and of which manifestation could only be seen in his stupid smile. This woman swept him off his feet every time he saw her. It was the very thing he dreaded, love. To Ousolyf the precepts of love, conventionally, was all but a façade the real depth of which was so hidden that humans had decided to make love such a beauty. His intrigue was seeing suffering in other people, especially when he was the cause. To him, the universe had conspired to put him to shame, a belief that had grown after his encounter with a serial killer and a rapist earlier on in his life. He had a craving to be in control. The thought of his emotions being controlled by another person brought paradoxical feelings so confusing to his young inexperienced mind. Clara brought him an untold gush of joy at the same time gulps of ineffable hatred for this girl eviscerated the very core of his brain

All these feelings had taken a hold of him that he felt overwhelmed every time he was around Clara. She always reminded him of someone awful in his past ….

CHAPTER4: THE KILL

The plan had materialized in his mind the moment the smell of the perfume hit his nostrils. This was a scent that could not escape his olfactory glands. It reminded him of the horrors of his life, the worst memories of his life. Phantom pain kicked I as he strode down memory lane. He had always looked forward to getting back at the person who ruined his life. He came close to committing suicide were it not for his pride. Every time he remembered that moment it was a despicable mental mutilation. He had thought of ways he could punish this person if he came across him

This very day an opportunity had availed itself at the, most fantastic moment. His mother had travelled up country for a distant relative’s funeral. He had been left at home all alone. The vacant servant quarter was the best spot for the soon to be heretic decapitation. The problem he faced was how to get his victim to the house…

A tale of idiocy and unexplainable duplicity is what had become of him. He had tried to keep his life straight but circumstances always brought out the worst in him. Likelihood beckoning imagination, he had already created the whole thing in his mind. Forgetting that his was much of a rudimentary plot, he forged ahead.

The way he was going to do it was not clear yet but the insatiable urge was unquenchable. There was a darkness that sprawled inside of him like wild mushrooms whenever he thought about his life. What happened to him changed everything about his personality. He hated himself and he blamed it on everyone in his life. The idea of getting his first kill was exhilarating.

He imagined the moment a man’s life was dependent on his mercy. An incredible surge of adrenaline traversed his entire body at the thought of this. Today was that day, he was not going to lose that chance…

His collection of tools was scarce but he had all the basic ones. All the ones needed he had acquired from the anatomy lab at school. He had arranged the servant quarter to imitate a lab. The old long dining table was placed near the window, three study lamps positioned strategically all directing their light at the upper part of the tilted table. The table was in a tilted position with the help of two planks of wood beneath its two legs and a rope tied on the window grill.

Ousolyf had modified the table to the best of his knowledge. Two holes on either side of the table had been made and a pair of leather belts fastened through. On the lower edge a piece of wood had been added across for feet rest. A few inches above the feet rest there were two slits with another pair of leather belts. On the right side of the ‘operating table ‘was a small coffee table where the ‘tools of trade’ were spread. An hour glass and a small digital camera sat next to the surgical equipment. An assortment of glass jars was set on the single bed at the left corner ready for the souvenirs. The stage was set and ready for the coming performance. The camera tripod stood right next to the tools’ table ready for service.