Survival in the Velds -- Part 2

Click here for Part-1 of "Survival in the Velds"

"Quick. Shoo the children away with you. Take shelter somewhere. Go!", Zumba hissed. "You take care Zumba", Salya said and ran with the children. "You also. Go. This is my battle. I don’t want to see any of you in harm", he growled at his consorts.  "No master. You won us. We will be with you till our last breath, or your last breath", the consorts growled back in unison.

"Hello. Zumba. Father-murderer!", Po'El shouted.

"Face me Po'El! Why shout miles away? Afraid?"

"Of course not, dear. Sorry for keeping you waiting. The rule is to give a warning. You saw the warning yesterday noon. So, you've lived 18 hours at my expense. I'm good at math and geography. You'll have to pay for this", he growled as he was walking near Zumba.

He remembered his battles. The one with his father, where he inherited the land. The one with Taanoi, where he won 5 lionesses -- including Salya. "This is going to be tough", he muttered to himself.

"Mutter to me!", Po'El roared as he pounced over Zumba with lightning speed.

One blow to the left, another to the right and then attack his neck!

Po'El was flawless in his attack technique. But Zumba had anticipated the last move and covered his neck.

"Good. So now we go for round two", Po'El panted.

"Now its my turn!", Zumba roared with all his might and slapped Po'El hard. He nearly displaced his jaw. In a distance a man in a brown tent was shooting this on his HD camera -- 2 naked males were fighting while 6 naked females watching with delight. "My God! Gruesome! This indeed is Africa!", he muttered with glee.

The fight lasted for 15 minutes. The final blow was delivered by Po'El. Zumba's neck was slashed open, his groin muscles were hanging like loose flesh. Zumba bled to death. A gruesome one, indeed.

Po'El licked his nails. "Warm", he muttered. Zumba's consorts were helpless. Po'El had won them. "In the line. Now!", Po'El roared. The 4 of them lined behind 6 of Po'El's consorts. "The kids? The kids! This male had kids! Where are they?"

"This way", one of Zumba's ex-consorts guided Po'El to impress him. Po'El kissed him hard, licked the insides of her mouth and whispered, "You and me tonight". She blushed. She was the new favorite  of the master.

"Well, well", Po'El muttered. Salya was shocked to find him here. The children were playing nearby. Salya pounced over him, and he slapped her hard. She fell off a short ledge. "Aren't they cute? What's your name?", he growled. "Don't kill them, Po'El! I'll do as I say! They don't even know how to talk!", she cried.

"You'll anyways do as I say! And for the kids? Rules are rules, dear. I'm merely diminishing any future possibilities of usurping", he joyously growled as he dug his teeth deep into the children's necks -- one by one. All the children could do was meow. He slapped the bodies hard, to ensure that they were really dead. He then jumped off the ledge and made way for Salya.

"Why invade our territory? Isn't your land good enough?", she growled. "No dear. The land is verdant with lots to feed on. In fact, so much that 5 generations could live on it! But, I needed more", he remarked. "Did you kill Z. . u. . m. . ba?", she asked in a shaky tone. "Had to. He was very brave, relentless. It's been years since I've fought a male like him", he honestly replied. She felt elated. She turned away and started walking.

"Ahem. Where are you going?", he asked. "Does it matter?", she asked him. "Rules are rules, right?", he said. It suddenly struck him. Zumba had won her from Taanoi, and now Po'El had won her from Zumba. She could do nothing. She was not a commodity. She was more. She was a trophy. His trophy.

She was helpless. She did not know that she could end this agony, not by killing him -- that she could not in her wildest dreams -- but by killing herself. She did not know the concept of suicide, lest she would have jumped off the highest cliff and got away from all of it. "My babies. My cute, little babies", Salya quietly cried beside Po'El who was fast asleep. Zumba died an honorable death. 

Read More

Killing Spree

"My son is innocent. He is a very good boy. God have mercy on him if he ever did something wrong. He even saved a kitten from a dog the other day. He is an angel. He couldn't have shot 31 people. On a broad daylight you say? He never could have. Poor child, he even killed himself! Please, leave me alone. Don't make a murderer out of my son. Leave me alone!"

An hour earlier.

He was sitting in my Porsche. Oh the weather! The weather was so serene, calm. "Father said a calm weather precedes a storm". Puffing a cigarette, he was wondering, "What would happen if  Hannibal Lecter were here, in this piazza? He would shop for human livers, but wouldn't find any. Such a pity. I'd  be glad to offer him my liver!". He never liked human flesh. He tried once. It was disgusting. But Hannibal, he adored Hannibal and even contacted Thomas Harris for help. Thomas Harris wrote the infamous Hannibal Series inspired by a Mexican doctor. He wanted Thomas to give him the name. Thomas did give him the name, but alas! The real Hannibal died of hunger, hunger for human livers.

Today was the doctor's 1st death anniversary. He thought of celebrating it grand. He had no friends, only fiends. Here he was -- in his Porsche, champagne in hand, and Beethoven's sixth symphony in his ears. "I can't rip people. It's just too dirty. Plus, my shoes would get spoilt", he was arguing with the mirror. The voice from the mirror said, "Then why don't you honor the doctor by shooting? You even have a shotgun!". Yes, the Browning Auto-5. "My father gifted me this for my 18th birthday. How can I forget that?", he grinned.

An auto-loader shotgun whose production was stopped in 1998, it was a personal favorite of the buck hunters. Patented by John Browning in 1900, it was a beautiful machine. He loved the long nozzle, and was amazed by the high rear end. He named it 'Humpy'. His father used it in Vietnam War, and passed it down to him saying "This girl saved my ass from those Asians. Keep this with you. Now that you're 18!".

The piazza was bustling with people and hawkers. Fruits, meat, loaves, candies -- you name it! A small child was screaming, "I want one more!". The mother was reluctant. Touched, the hawker presented the little girl with another candy. She smiled. He beamed. On a corner-ledge, a sweet young couple were gazing at the clouds. Both were listening to some soft music on their headphones. Her head rested on his shoulder, and his head rested on her head. A kodak moment.

The weather was calm, and calm weather preceded a storm.

He had his skullcandy covering his ears. "Beethoven!", he shouted internally. His legs were swaying, and his entire body followed. He was waving his hands in mid-air, as if he were guiding the orchestra. It looked as if he was unmindful of the piazza and the people. He was lost in the music. Every good music has an end, lest it should become noise. Once Beethoven's Pathétique was over, his swaying hands reached the window of his car and pulled out his Browning A-5.

The people were unmindful of the dancing man. They chose to ignore him. With one quick swing, the shotgun was held between his fist and his right shoulder. Before anyone could realize what was happening, he shot the hawker. Eyes wide open, his mouth agape -- anticipating the scream which never made its way out. The mother quickly lifted her daughter and started running. "Not so fast grande dame! Your daughter even got an extra candy, right?", he was shouting as he aimed and shot the mother. The bullet pierced through her rib cage and bored through the daughter's skull. The crowd was running haphazardly. "Chaos", he murmured. He slowly walked towards the couple, whistling his favorite song "My Way" by Frank Sinatra. He blew his head in a thousand pieces with a bullet. She was aghast. He came closer. She forgot to breathe. He came closer, kissed her cheek and murmured "I love you, and want you to come with me". She hastily nodded her head, hoping he won't kill her. He took out his cellphone, took a selfie with her. He pushed her off the ledge, and shot her mid-air. "See? I knew I'm a good shooter!", he congratulated himself. He had a pristine bullet in his pocket. He loaded it, and aimed it at his chest. "Hannibal! This is my anniversary gift to you. 6 human livers! And yes, I don't rip. So, I'm giving you the trouble of ripping and cooking", he shot himself. The impact of the shot threw him off the short ledge, and he fell in the abyss of darkness. All this took 13 seconds. 6 universes were shattered in 13 seconds.

His father came to know about it from his secretary. "What? That son of a bitch! What will happen of my reputation?!! Get me the media guy on the phone now!". "Now listen you creep! My son did not kill them intentionally. All this was due to his illness. Invent some disease which can explain it all. This case should not f*cking go to the court. Call the families, and stuff these dollars in their dirty mouths!", he shouted.

"Good afternoon. In a tragic turn of events, Mr. James Trevor, the son of famed Hollywood Director Jonathan Trevor killed 5 and himself in a killing spree"

"BREAKING NEWS! Hollywood director's son kill 5 and shoots himself"

"HEADLINES! Beloved James Trevor dead. James Trevor was suffering from Asperger's Syndrome. Family mourns "

"NEWS NOW! James Trevor suffering from Asperger's Syndrome killed 5 people and killed himself. Jonathan Trevor to sue the doctor who was treating James"

"Ok. Do one more thing. Get our boys on facebook, twitter, reddit, and every other media forum and make them sing praises about my boy. Here, some happy photographs of his". "Yes sir, I'll get on it now". "And call the media near my house. They should not know that I called them"

"Oh! Please let me go. Please give me some privacy. I lost my son, and you're worried about interviews. You'll get the full report from me tomorrow morning. Please let me go.", the media found the legendary Jonathan Trevor sobbing incessantly.

"Sir! Social media is saying that James has Asperger's. Is this some ploy to get him off the hook?", an audacious reporter asked. "What?! Oh, Jesus! Save me! I am a law abiding citizen and all are equal before the law. My son had Asperger's. It is true. But he couldn't have killed so many. Please. Leave me alone", he sobbed and sobbed.

"Money can buy everything. It can buy you shotguns, it can buy you sympathy, it can buy you insanity, it can buy you grief, and it can buy you bliss", Jonathan thought. He was content that his step-son was dead. "How appropriate? The girl who saved my ass busted his ass!", he laughed as he took a sip of Scotch.

By V.k. Dadhich

http://vivekawrites.blogspot.com/

Disclaimer:

The characters named above are fictional, and any resemblance with real-life people is purely co-incidental. Brand names like "SkullCandy" (a brand of headphones), "Brrowning A-5" (a type of shotgun), Porsche (a brand of car) are solely used for the story and not for publicity/defamation. The artist's names (Beethoven, Frank Sinatra) have been used incidentally, so has the social media website's names (facebook, reddit, twitter). Hannibal Lecter is a fictional character of the novels written by Thomas Harris, which was inspired by a Mexican Doctor. In the fiction, Hannibal is a cannibal. The name of Thomas Harris is used in this short-story to avoid the allegations of plagiarism of his character, apart from his unwarranted role in this short-story.

Read More