Mend

He rolled his torso backward and curled his feet under his ass, watching the terrified look on her face as she quivered a tear out of her left eye. He sighed heavily and got up with the needle still in his hands. He’s been doing this for a while and it’s becoming tedious and boring. All he wants to do is teach others what he already knows, self control and stamina. The world will be such a better place if everyone was just so. Just poised and controlled and right. He shuffled his feet to the rickety dusty table and propped one hip at a termite eaten corner. He stared at her still, hands bound in front, legs spreadeagled and bound against each wooden beam supporting the fragile roof. His gaze traveled up the wooden beams to the partially covered roof. A sparrow landed and peered into the room; it flew away quickly, sensing the foreboding aura. He turned his attention back to her, she squirmed and tried to plead with her big brown eyes. Beautiful girl, young and healthy. He likes them young; you teach them control at this age and they don’t grow into greedy adults running the world into a disarray. He straightened with a stump of his boot and she jumped. He didn’t like that, his face contorted into a grimace at her sudden show of fright and watched fright change to terror as he picked up the serum. It wasn’t a really complicated drug, and he gave them just enough. He made sure it was just enough, else it defeats his purpose.

Murmuring his reasons to her in a soothing voice, he explained why he needed her to stay alive during the ordeal he’s about to put her through. He explained how useful self control will be to them. He cited attacks in various countries and scandals by various world leaders. He made her understand that, he’s one of the chosen sent to redeem but he needs disciples. He needed her to stay alive. His voice had such soothing quality, she breathed easy just for a second then felt the brutal chill of his finger tips as he pressed down her jugular and inserted the needle at the base of her jaw, right under the skin. The serum will still her facial muscles and make her expressionless, while he carried on with the rest of the procedure.

She couldn’t feel her face. For a moment she thought the serum will spread to her entire body, she prayed it will. Her eyes rolled towards the rusted saws, knives and drills on the rickety table. Cold sweat broke on her brow, she counted her days. Her mind went to what she did that morning before leaving home. She remembered the unwashed pan from yesterday’s cooking and the fight with her neighbor about the littered compound. She had planned on apologizing after calling the man a slob, even though she was right and he is an insufferable slob. She cant quite remember what she wore and tried to force the image out of the deep recesses of her mind; then the blind white light came and she jolted in pain. He’d started with her pinky toe and was moving onto the other toes, using a pair of handy garden shears to pull out her nails, one by one. At the jerk of his muscular arm, he looked up and watched her reaction. She shook violently, he feared she’d break free so he stopped, picked up a warm towelette and sat by her side. He wiped the sweat gathering on his brow and explained to her again. Why it is important that she forgets the pain. That her eyes show no feeling. He promised she’ll feel absolutely nothing if she willed herself and asked her if she didn’t want that. Her eyes, they said yes, her face was still and calm; expressionless  just the way he wanted it. He finished off her second foot and went on to wrap the toes in cloth. He didn’t want her to die. It pained him when they died, it aggravated him, such weakness.

She felt his voice more than heard it. She was trying to remember the dress still, she couldn’t stop fixating on it. As the blind white light of pain flashed in front of her again, she wondered if it will actually damage her pupils and make her go blind. Then she wondered if any such cause of blindness existed. She tried again to remember, nothing came and then something. The pain continued, he was using the drill on her thighs now. He just made the sixth hole on her left thigh. Her legs were shaking from the trauma, she wanted to look at it. Look at what he was doing, she asked herself if it will work. He seemed so sure of himself, it must work all the time. She was floating, her legs were still shaking, she felt light and then she sensed freshly cut grass. She inhaled the freshness in, she was floating. He’d reached the crucial point and couldn’t stop, sweat poured down his back, the towelette had long disappeared. Right after his last drill, he felt a pool of wetness on his jeans. He started quickly, rushed to the table, came back to her in a scurry knocking down the rest of his kit in the process. He started suturing the wounds, applying pressure and willing the blood to stay in. He looked over at her left leg, tied to the beam a feet away, blood slowly gathering around it. He cussed loudly! Too much, too much bleeding, she was the one. She was taking it so well. Rushing to the leg, he blotted out the blood and applied more pressure on the opened wounds. Tears rolled down his face, he’s so tired. This would have been the last and the first. The success. The first disciple to make his dream come true. She felt cool to touch, he curled himself on her stomach and cried some more. Yet another failure and he is so tired.