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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Revenge / Poetic Justice / Karma
- Published: 08/06/2014
Tragedy Postponed
Born 1986, M, from Nairobi, KenyaShe stepped into the house, looked from left to right. Did she hear something? She listened again. Sudden eerie silence engulfed the room and this made fear ruthlessly run a chill up and down her spine. As soon as she turned to close the door, a creaking sound escaped the bedroom’s door. Alice had locked the door herself and carried the keys with her when she left. The door was still locked when she came back. She opened it herself. But what caused the sound? She quickly threw her eyes to the bedroom’s door but to her surprise, it was closed.
Dropping her bag and her shopping on the floor, Alice walked towards her bedroom, her eyes stuck to the door and ears focused for any unique sound. She raised her right hand to push the door but before she touched it, the door slowly opened. Panic struck her as frigid sweat dotted her beautiful face. She quickly stepped back letting her lustrous dark hair cover her face. Another creaking sound attracted her attention. She turned around just in time to see the kitchen door move. She was scared.
Alice thought she wasn’t seeing or hearing things right. She rapidly blinked her eyes, drew in deep breath while struggling to keep her jaws together. She stepped up to the wall leaning her lean body parallel to it. She felt weak and numb. All the strength she had slowly drained.
“Who is there?” she squeaked hoping no answer came. Her voice echoed mysteriously. It suddenly felt quiet. Alice’s eyes were glued to the kitchen’s door. Various thoughts whirled in her mind. She moved to the middle of the house.
She had witnessed it all, all until the end. It was a painful experience. The grotesque images still flashed in her mind. It even worsened every time Alice entered the house. It was now five months since the horrific incident but it was clear in her mind as if it were yesterday. Alice needed help, but would she take the consequences?
The kitchen’s door moved and her pet cat, Tom, stealthily walked out of the kitchen towards her. She heaved a deep sigh of relief, bent and picked him up. Caressing his soft fur from head towards the tail, she made for the couch. Before she took a few strides, she heard light footsteps behind her. She quickly turned. There it was. The scariest sight she dreaded. Just one look and she recognized their faces. The first guy wore a black T-shirt with faded jeans. He was clean-shaven and had eyes as cold as those of a wounded lioness. Behind him, was another gentleman, if you may call him so. He was in a black suit and well polished. He looked a little relaxed but dangerous. They were unarmed.
She remembered the second man clearly. He was the man who gave Mark a deep cut on his head that saw Mark breathe his last. The fresh blood split all over the wall. He then giggled at her, wiped the blood off the machete on Alice’s chest, staining her white blouse.
He bent to her ears and whispered. “Ever heard of Padro?” Alice fearfully nodded her head. “I am Padro. If you dare talk, you will die a painful death.” They then ran away disappearing into the bushes at the back of the house.
Alice’s eyes locked with the first man and she froze. She knew something terribly terrible was about to happen. Her heart beat fast and she grew more nervous. She surrendered to fate and anxiously waited for what it had in store for her.
“Don’t move a step. Stay still,” said the man. The voice alone would have sent a lion back into the den. It was a coarse voice that announced danger, a voice that was dreadful to listen to. Padro looked on.
“What do you want?” she timidly asked as she made short steps backwards. Her lips had grown dry and skin pale. The men did not talk.
A terrific thought hit her mind to run, but she knew that was unwise, since she could definitely not outrun them. Padro advanced towards her in deliberately slow strides. He was a well built man with large broad shoulders. She drew into a dead halt when she hit the seat behind her. She sank into the leather couch. Padro was there, standing before her, he bent over and his face was only few inches away from hers. He had a large face with square jaws, and dark eyes that bored desirously into her. He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He pinned her against the seat with his large arm and placed the cold blade against her throat.
“Don’t make any sound sweetheart,” he said in a guttural voice, “if you dare, you are dead.”
He pushed her to the floor. The other guy joined in with ropes in his hand. She watched helplessly as the men tied her.
She lay on her elbows which were stuck and bound together with a thin manila rope. She was naked. Her legs were spread awkwardly with the left foot tied tight to the foot of the mahogany couch, and the right to the huge wall unit. The tight rope had cut into her ankle and made blood ooze spreading on the floor. Her face was swollen with one eye bulging and closed with the other one eye half open, courtesy of the struggle and the beating she got for screaming.
Alice cursed having been involved. She had been warned and she knew this would soon happen. She loved Mark and wouldn’t stop at anything until she saw the ones who killed her husband brought to book. She would make sure justice was done, done her own way.
Alice watched Padro walk around the table on her left. She looked at him as he stared between her legs. When he lowered his pants, she turned to the right and closed her eyes. Padro was on top of her. He was breathing heavily, and sweating and cursing. He was hurting her.
When he finished, he slapped her and laughed. The other man took over. They took rounds. She turned away and cursed quietly careful not to be heard. They had threatened to kill her if she continued screaming. The amount of blood from her genitals was increasing. Padro and his friend didn’t care. The dark blood mixed with the men’s seeds and formed a puddle behind her bottom.
“Ninja,” Padro called, “care for some drink?” he said as he wiped off sweat from his forehead.
Pedro extended a glass of wine to Ninja who was wiping himself with Alice’s blouse which was by now drenched in blood and sweat. They used the blouse every time they were through. They sat on the couch watching Alice who lay still.
Alice turned her face to the door. She saw it move, and in came a person. Help at last. He had come to save her. He was mad. He yelled angrily and gave Padro a strong kick on his chest. Padro fell down flat. He turned around to take on Ninja. Ninja was not there – he had escaped. The man turned to Padro who was struggling up, gave him a powerful punch on his throat. Padro fell down again with blood and saliva out of his mouth. To say the man was crazy is understatement. That was warm up. He crushed Padro’s face with his boots and the nose crumbled hanging on one side. From his pocket, he removed a knife and severely stabbed Padro’s body until he was convinced Padro was dead. The man moved to Alice and carefully embraced her head.
“Thank you Mark” Alice managed feebly, “I love you.” She fell asleep.
____________________
She woke up to see the men seated on the couch drinking, talking and laughing. Her body was numb and aching. She tried to move but oh no, she was stuck. The puddle beneath her had clotted sticking her buttocks and thighs to the floor. She searched the house and softly called her husband’s name.
“Mark…” she waited, waited, no response, she slept.
Padro moved forward and felt her pulse. She was still alive.
“One more round then we do away with her,” said Padro.
“I have an idea,” coughed Ninja.
Few minutes later, they were thrusting a wine bottle into her. The excruciating pain woke her up. She opened her eyes but she barely carried up her head. She took a deep breath. Slowly, her eyes closed and she never saw again.
It was the middle of the night when the 4WD Toyota Hilux Double cabin pick up, rolled into the forest. Padro was on the wheel, Ninja beside him smoking a cheap cigar. At the back was Alice.
Tragedy Postponed(Jason Otieno)
She stepped into the house, looked from left to right. Did she hear something? She listened again. Sudden eerie silence engulfed the room and this made fear ruthlessly run a chill up and down her spine. As soon as she turned to close the door, a creaking sound escaped the bedroom’s door. Alice had locked the door herself and carried the keys with her when she left. The door was still locked when she came back. She opened it herself. But what caused the sound? She quickly threw her eyes to the bedroom’s door but to her surprise, it was closed.
Dropping her bag and her shopping on the floor, Alice walked towards her bedroom, her eyes stuck to the door and ears focused for any unique sound. She raised her right hand to push the door but before she touched it, the door slowly opened. Panic struck her as frigid sweat dotted her beautiful face. She quickly stepped back letting her lustrous dark hair cover her face. Another creaking sound attracted her attention. She turned around just in time to see the kitchen door move. She was scared.
Alice thought she wasn’t seeing or hearing things right. She rapidly blinked her eyes, drew in deep breath while struggling to keep her jaws together. She stepped up to the wall leaning her lean body parallel to it. She felt weak and numb. All the strength she had slowly drained.
“Who is there?” she squeaked hoping no answer came. Her voice echoed mysteriously. It suddenly felt quiet. Alice’s eyes were glued to the kitchen’s door. Various thoughts whirled in her mind. She moved to the middle of the house.
She had witnessed it all, all until the end. It was a painful experience. The grotesque images still flashed in her mind. It even worsened every time Alice entered the house. It was now five months since the horrific incident but it was clear in her mind as if it were yesterday. Alice needed help, but would she take the consequences?
The kitchen’s door moved and her pet cat, Tom, stealthily walked out of the kitchen towards her. She heaved a deep sigh of relief, bent and picked him up. Caressing his soft fur from head towards the tail, she made for the couch. Before she took a few strides, she heard light footsteps behind her. She quickly turned. There it was. The scariest sight she dreaded. Just one look and she recognized their faces. The first guy wore a black T-shirt with faded jeans. He was clean-shaven and had eyes as cold as those of a wounded lioness. Behind him, was another gentleman, if you may call him so. He was in a black suit and well polished. He looked a little relaxed but dangerous. They were unarmed.
She remembered the second man clearly. He was the man who gave Mark a deep cut on his head that saw Mark breathe his last. The fresh blood split all over the wall. He then giggled at her, wiped the blood off the machete on Alice’s chest, staining her white blouse.
He bent to her ears and whispered. “Ever heard of Padro?” Alice fearfully nodded her head. “I am Padro. If you dare talk, you will die a painful death.” They then ran away disappearing into the bushes at the back of the house.
Alice’s eyes locked with the first man and she froze. She knew something terribly terrible was about to happen. Her heart beat fast and she grew more nervous. She surrendered to fate and anxiously waited for what it had in store for her.
“Don’t move a step. Stay still,” said the man. The voice alone would have sent a lion back into the den. It was a coarse voice that announced danger, a voice that was dreadful to listen to. Padro looked on.
“What do you want?” she timidly asked as she made short steps backwards. Her lips had grown dry and skin pale. The men did not talk.
A terrific thought hit her mind to run, but she knew that was unwise, since she could definitely not outrun them. Padro advanced towards her in deliberately slow strides. He was a well built man with large broad shoulders. She drew into a dead halt when she hit the seat behind her. She sank into the leather couch. Padro was there, standing before her, he bent over and his face was only few inches away from hers. He had a large face with square jaws, and dark eyes that bored desirously into her. He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He pinned her against the seat with his large arm and placed the cold blade against her throat.
“Don’t make any sound sweetheart,” he said in a guttural voice, “if you dare, you are dead.”
He pushed her to the floor. The other guy joined in with ropes in his hand. She watched helplessly as the men tied her.
She lay on her elbows which were stuck and bound together with a thin manila rope. She was naked. Her legs were spread awkwardly with the left foot tied tight to the foot of the mahogany couch, and the right to the huge wall unit. The tight rope had cut into her ankle and made blood ooze spreading on the floor. Her face was swollen with one eye bulging and closed with the other one eye half open, courtesy of the struggle and the beating she got for screaming.
Alice cursed having been involved. She had been warned and she knew this would soon happen. She loved Mark and wouldn’t stop at anything until she saw the ones who killed her husband brought to book. She would make sure justice was done, done her own way.
Alice watched Padro walk around the table on her left. She looked at him as he stared between her legs. When he lowered his pants, she turned to the right and closed her eyes. Padro was on top of her. He was breathing heavily, and sweating and cursing. He was hurting her.
When he finished, he slapped her and laughed. The other man took over. They took rounds. She turned away and cursed quietly careful not to be heard. They had threatened to kill her if she continued screaming. The amount of blood from her genitals was increasing. Padro and his friend didn’t care. The dark blood mixed with the men’s seeds and formed a puddle behind her bottom.
“Ninja,” Padro called, “care for some drink?” he said as he wiped off sweat from his forehead.
Pedro extended a glass of wine to Ninja who was wiping himself with Alice’s blouse which was by now drenched in blood and sweat. They used the blouse every time they were through. They sat on the couch watching Alice who lay still.
Alice turned her face to the door. She saw it move, and in came a person. Help at last. He had come to save her. He was mad. He yelled angrily and gave Padro a strong kick on his chest. Padro fell down flat. He turned around to take on Ninja. Ninja was not there – he had escaped. The man turned to Padro who was struggling up, gave him a powerful punch on his throat. Padro fell down again with blood and saliva out of his mouth. To say the man was crazy is understatement. That was warm up. He crushed Padro’s face with his boots and the nose crumbled hanging on one side. From his pocket, he removed a knife and severely stabbed Padro’s body until he was convinced Padro was dead. The man moved to Alice and carefully embraced her head.
“Thank you Mark” Alice managed feebly, “I love you.” She fell asleep.
____________________
She woke up to see the men seated on the couch drinking, talking and laughing. Her body was numb and aching. She tried to move but oh no, she was stuck. The puddle beneath her had clotted sticking her buttocks and thighs to the floor. She searched the house and softly called her husband’s name.
“Mark…” she waited, waited, no response, she slept.
Padro moved forward and felt her pulse. She was still alive.
“One more round then we do away with her,” said Padro.
“I have an idea,” coughed Ninja.
Few minutes later, they were thrusting a wine bottle into her. The excruciating pain woke her up. She opened her eyes but she barely carried up her head. She took a deep breath. Slowly, her eyes closed and she never saw again.
It was the middle of the night when the 4WD Toyota Hilux Double cabin pick up, rolled into the forest. Padro was on the wheel, Ninja beside him smoking a cheap cigar. At the back was Alice.
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