A date with death

by DERRICK MULOMA
14th February 2023

 

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 goosebumps. 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 leather 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 the 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 hours and he would be statistics.

The killer had left an hourglass 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 sexually abused by an unknown assailant making him unable to control his defecation for almost a year. Today he had been put in the same position, with 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 gain, 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’s 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 striped 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 a 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 the 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 into it. This shone some light of hope on 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, then why am I 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 into 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 at 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 at 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, the kicks of a dying horse.

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

              ‘I mean, it’s 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 nonetheless.

 

 

 

 

All odds were against him, he felt the 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 into 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 lightning strike. It was a few seconds yet it seemed like a lifetime. Events that followed would seal the deal for his destiny. The lightning 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. This was the only chance Ousolyf had to escape from his imminent death. Luckily the stars were shining in his favor. Embers were just beginning to fall from the burning shelves and a big piece of a burning cinder fell on his strapped wrist. The pain brought by the burning of his skin was unbearable. The immediate and logical response was to move his wrist but the strap was so tight, his arm was numb. A part of the ember touched the leather strap and started chewing on it like a hungry grasshopper. Ousolyf gritted his teeth at the excruciating pain the burning caused. The few moments the ember rested on his wrist seemed like an eternity.

 Despite the pain, Ousolyf knew that it would pay off, his freedom was beckoning. As soon as the strap was almost charred, he pulled on it with all his strength and it snapped freeing his arm. He unfastened the strap on his other arm and did the same for his feet. The fire had gotten bigger and the wood on the roof had caught fire, embers almost as huge as throw pillows were now falling from the burning roof. Soon the whole roof would cave in. Outside the storm was at its best and slowly water was filling in the room from the roof where the tree had fallen. Maneuvering through the rubble Ousolyf ran towards the entrance dodging falling debris. Unburnt wood was creaking and falling on the ground with deafening clunks.

  He finally got to the door; it was unbolted because his assailants left in a hurry. He stormed out into the storm and kept running away from the cabin which was now consumed in flames. His date with the grim reaper had been cut short thanks to nature. That was to be a story that his children would never hear the end of.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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