Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Chapter One: Butcher

Wake up at 6:09 in the morning. Get dressed. Never mind not combing your hair. Never mind not taking a shower. Go outside your house. You shall feel the early mist of the unfurling morning. Feel its gentle caress. Savor it. You’ll need them later. 

Stand beside the road, on the right side going North. Wait for a while. A white cab shall stop in front of you, the one with the name “Magdalena” painted on its sides. Ride at the back. Tell the driver, an old man with missing teeth and whose hair spiked with silver strands, go straight ahead, turn left on the fifth crossing then turn right before you hit the dirt road. He’ll know what to do. 

It’s still too early and you are allowed to sleep. You don’t have to worry. The driver knows where to take you. Trust him. 

Now you’ll wake up. Don’t be scared to find yourself alone inside the cab. The driver did his job which is to take you to your destination. You are alone now. 

Now step outside. You’ll find yourself alone in the woods. Don’t be afraid. The sounds are just the rustling dried fallen leaves. Look up. In front of you is an old hospital-ruin. Observe carefully. The worn-out white paint of the building, the cracked up glass door and the hanging sign painted in bold red color that says “emergency,” remember all them. 

Enter through the cracked up glass door. Don’t look back. Inside, you’ll find yourself in a narrow corridor leading to a double door in one kilometer distance. Don’t mind the number of doors on your left and right. Don’t even try to open them, or touch them with your hands. Just go straight ahead. Walk with your head held high. Don’t run. Just walk in your normal speed. There’s no use hurrying up. The distance will just stretch itself and you’ll end up tiring yourself. You’ll need all the energy later. 

Once you’re at the door, open it slowly. Inside is a man, half naked, waiting for you. Nod at him so he’ll acknowledge you. He’ll ask you to strip all your clothes. Don’t ask. Just follow him. He knows what he’s doing. Then, lie down on the operating table. Your hands and feet will be tied on its corners. Don’t move. Don’t be afraid. He knows what he’s doing. Prepare yourself. 

The man will kiss you on your mouth, his tongue battling with yours. Then out of nowhere, he’ll hit you with his whip. Don’t be afraid. Don’t resist. It’s not up to you now. He’ll whip you again. Two, three, four, five, never mind counting them. You’ll feel your flesh burning, tearing. You will scream the most terrifying scream of your life. 

The man will now pick up his blazing iron rod, burned under the fire for hours and hours. He will direct it to your chest. Once the blazing rod and your flesh collide, it’s like Hell descended upon you. You can smell your burning flesh like the smell of the early morning mist. 

And then again, he shall whip you. From your arms, to your thighs, every bit of flesh will be purged of the most excruciating pain you’ll ever feel. 

Tears from your eyes will fall without you even noticing it. You’ll hope you become numb but the searing continuous pain shall deny you. Sweat and blood are now all over your body. Your flesh tearing down for you are now lying face down on the operating table. You’ll wish for death but there’s no way to evade such torture, such duress. 

Once you’ve given up to Death of escaping such madness, your body shall relax. One, two, three another whipping. Four five six, the double-blade dagger slashing through your flesh. And then at some point, you’ll pass out. 

Now wake up. You’ll find yourself alone once more inside the room. You’re dressed from waist down. Notice that no single trace of blood can be seen in your body yet the scars are evident everywhere. Someone will come in. He’ll nod at you. Acknowledge him. You’ll discover a whip wrapped in your hand. Somewhere, you can smell a metal, burning. 

It’s up to you now. You’ll know what to do.

A Valentine Story, Chapter One: Butcher is dedicated to Alterjon

15 reaction(s):

Bino said...

ang sadista naman hehehe

Nate said...

@deebee: na-disturb ako ng slight lil bro.. anyway, i miss Jon.. musta na kaya yun?

bien said...

How's Alterjon? strange that you chose this piece for him. May branding na nagaganap. Illuminati ba? Ok walang sense comment ko

Ester Yaje said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ester Yaje said...

i have posted my compliments in this blog a few months ago and i think i should make some more for this post. gosh! i love the way you write. kidding aside. your words are simple yet the structure is so awesome. can i say kudos then?! :))

Désolé Boy said...

Bino - It's common in this lifetime.
Nate - You mean the world is disturbing?
Bien - Not branding. The concept of burning metal against a flesh is always devilish, same with a freezing one.
Ester - I may always talk in riddles and metaphors but I always want to be understood hence the simple words. Thanks.

ıǝɹɯɐı said...

This made my hair strands stand. I'll never walk into an old abandoned hospital EVER. Whew. I think I've developed a phobia.

Wunderful Wizard said...

I enjoyed reading your story. It's been ages since I last wrote fiction. *envy*

Anonymous said...

sana mali ang nasa isip ko.. #metaphor?


Pepe said...

ahhh.. choices.. at the end, the power to choose what corridor to take or not take; what we do or not with that whip in our hand; whether we choose to look at it that way or not.

if we are aware of our choices and finally choose to, then we should be happy, we should find peace with it. it should not be as disturbing and painful. it should be as lovely as the bright sun outside that slaughterhouse.

Victor Saudad said...


adaptedboy said...

A brilliantly gripping piece! Perhaps it is, as it was written, about pain and vengeance, and not a metaphorical piece for something even darker? I'm reading it as: pain is inflicted on us, and sometimes even without wanting to, we end up inflicting the same pain on others.

Moore said...

Interesting post.


Where's the FOLLOW button?


KikomaxXx said...

boss the looping drama is very awesome... parang ayus sa isang sadistang tulad ko.. hahaha... basta ayus... parang horror.. na ikaw naman ang mambiktima..

citybuoy said...

How intense. My take on it is this is exactly how emo blogging feels like. You get hurt so badly but you live long enough to tell your story.

Now if you're good and you eat all your vegetables, people will start loving you for showing them your wounds. It's a little fucked up that way, I guess. but the system works, doesn't it?

Thanks for taking us on this beautiful journey. :)


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