‘Sir, what have you…you come to do then, if not to steal from me?’ I stuttered as I asked him the question.He gave me a steer, but after a while, he looked away and then gawked back at me with a grief-stricken statement:‘I have been sent to take your life, in fact, for your information, I have been paid to do so.’
some things are not born to be, but when men offer sacrifices to evil, strange deeds emerge to suck the blood of the good….
The Tears of a Dead Man
A story told by the dead man himself....
Continued from last episode. Click here to read the previous episode
‘Why did you keep quiet?’ he asked, but I remained mute, I couldn’t speak a word, not with death’s ring leader pointing straight at my fore-head. My whole body was now shaking and sweat continued to discharge from head to toe just like a dam busting out of its cemented basin. My armpit was not helping either; it became a sort of waterfall. Then he asked the same question again and I gave another answer:
‘Please, I beg of you, don’t kill me, just take every valuable you will like to get your hands on: I….I… will give you everything I have: my car, money, Jewelleries, everything…. Please don’t just harm me: I still have a wife, a sister, two brothers, I….’ I had begun to mention all those who were important to me, though I had always watched it in the movie, but never knew I would also fall into a similar status quo one day, a position where one’s last prayer was peeping from a close corner, ready to yield an instant call.
‘Shut that parrot’s mouth of yours and lie down, before I blow off this head of yours!’
Like a school boy responding to the voice of a senior student, I, without further expression, laid flat on the ground. I raised my head a little bit from the ground and stared at his terrifying face. it was as if I was begging to be robbed of all I had in life: what more could I have done, I couldn’t have argued with him, neither could I have tussled the gun with him, for never for once, have I had to go through a military training, all I was engaged in back in my school days was the boys scout paramilitary group, but as for my group, it was rather a paralysed-military, than a paramilitary; we were only commanded to wear our uniforms neatly and presentably and not engaging in combats with some mad armed mugger like the one standing in front of me with a gun.
In the act of making another statement, a knock sounded on my door and the voice of my wife rang out, urging me to be snappy, so as not to be late for church, she even added that if we went late, we would be prevented from being administered the Holy Eucharist, but she never knew that out of fear, I had already completed five decades of the rosary three times and was at that moment reciting an, ‘Holy Mary, full of grace.’ He signalled to me with his gun to reply her, which I first felt reluctant, but after few seconds consideration, I did as he commanded, telling her I would be with her the moment I was through, then after giving an ‘okay’ reply, she went away, while I listened with terror to how the sounds of the ‘ko-ko-ka’ that proceeded from her shoes’ sole went on and on like the bell of an old Anglican church beckoning on people that it was church time, till I heard the last. All now became quiet and I was left again to harvest my fear.
‘Look here, mister.’ He said, moving slightly towards me. I raised my head a little higher than the previous and looked at his eyes without a blink ensuing.
‘I am not here to rob you, am not a robber; since that’s what you’ve been addressing me as, ever since I stepped in here.’ There was a petite relief on my face with what he had just said, but my mind began to feel bitter again and even more than I had earlier felt, when I thought about the gun he was holding; if he was not a robber, then what was he to be?
‘Sir, what have you…you come to do then, if not to steal from me?’ I stuttered as I asked him the question.
He gave me a steer, but after a while, he looked away and then gawked back at me with a grief-stricken statement:
‘I have been sent to take your life, in fact, for your information, I have been paid to do so.’
I couldn’t believe what I heard him say. I tried as much as possible to understand him better and when I fully grabbed what he meant by, ‘TO TAKE YOUR LIFE!’ my soul panicked. I started breathing loudly, my heartbeat became intensified that I could, as a matter of truth hear it sound loudly just like the sound of a loud hi-fi blowing off the roof of a broken bungalow. My eyes suddenly became shadowy and a terrible migraine in turn took charge. That I would be killed in some few seconds, was what I couldn’t comprehend; that declaration had even started killing me.
I set out to think he was joking, or perhaps he simply said that to get me extremely frightened, so as to make me cooperate and release my property to him without raising alarm or causing trouble. I began to doubt his initial declaration of himself as no robber, and therefore looked at his face and into his eyes to check if he was merely joking; for I was certain no one could have sent me an assassin nor would I have offended anyone to the extent of sending a killer to take my life but the expression on his face showed he was really serious, not a smile appeared on his face, not even a faked one.
And like an old testament priest offering the sacrifice of repentance of sins, I held out my hands towards him to plead for my life.
‘Please, don’t….
’
‘Shush…. Get up.’ I instantly stood up, and moved a step backward.
I see you are a gentle man and an innocent one, I presume, and that’s the only reason I will reveal the name of the person who paid for your assassination before killing you, so you won’t hold any grudge against my face to your resting place. You have a property which belongs to another man, and that person has paid for your life to be ended.
‘Pro… pro…per… ty? But sir I have no issue with anyone and even the land my father had left for me as my inheritance have been given to my brothers, who also wanted it intensely by me. So why would I owe or fight anyone over any property?’
‘Maybe you owe him unknowingly after all; well the person is a close….’ That was when another knock came on my door then he paused; it was my wife AGAIN!!! She had finally come, due to so many hours of waiting to pull me out of the room forcefully. We both knew this time, she would open the door, without even waiting for my, ‘Please come in.’, before zooming in and If I were lastly to be killed, I didn’t want my wife, whom I loved so much with all my heart to be killed along with me, but as I promptly tried to say something which could have by hook or by crook dissuaded her from opening the door and getting inside, he, without giving me a chance, pulled the trigger of his loaded pistol and like a heavy stone being thrown into the centre of a river, making just a little sound and splash, a bullet drove my chest. I fell straight to the ground, holding my chest and gasping for breath with my eyes staring at the white ceiling fan as it spanned very fast. I heard faintly how he hurriedly opened the door but never heard the closing.
Even while dying, I still feared for my wife, who I knew was still at the door when the gun went off: I couldn’t confirm at that moment whether or not she had escaped my tragedy, for I was lying down hopelessly in my own river of blood, which was insuppressibly gushing out from my chest. I opened my eyes and saw the spinning fan once again and that was the last thing I saw before I landed in a thick and unfamiliar bushy turf, where my whole actually story began to change.
- Dear reader, I hope you enjoyed the story. Be assured on its continuity Monday. Always remember that we are the society and the society is us. We have to change what needs be changed and leave what needs be left.
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