Put Me To Sleep…

The sun set deep into the horizon. Grace was his to observe such indescribable beauty: yet from the angle his eye cut to behold the neon sky of sunset a conclusion could be drawn that deep within, emptiness and himself had complimentary heartbeats. The echo resounding from every heartbeat eloquently testified and with great detail gave the narration that painted a picture perfect of a person falling deeper and deeper. To Sanders, another day had faded away. And as it faded, it opened a wound he thought had healed and left him with a fresh scar.

The much energy Sanders had invested in staring into oblivion made blinking so rare an activity. Clouds of tormenting thoughts hang right over his head. They whispered to his disturbed soul, ‘No matter how many breaths you take you still wont breath. The wounds you cover and treat will never heal. Take a bow, take a bow.’ These words overwhelmed the emotional composure that was within him. Effortlessly he raised waters. Till his eyes were tomato red and pumpkin sore.

As his tears were intimately bonding with his skin, the demons he hosted inside took their place and spoke to him, ‘Release the fire that lies within your heart. Start a riot till the world explodes. Sanders, riot!’

Fueled by this, he rid his seat of his weight and by way of putting a foot in front of the other continuously he authoritatively walked out of his apartment. You could tell from the way he took his steps that a great resolve had been made. But how far will this take Sanders? Will this deliver him?

Sanders was a twenty one year old man who felt invisible. Daily he tried to look good though inside he was such a mess. You aren’t wrong if you guessed that on certain days he set himself on fire but he still was invisible. This lack of societal acceptance dug a hole deep enough to bury the earth and create emptiness that this pen can not describe. The suffering, psychological, that he was going through was that which a man should never know.

With great resolve Sanders decided that it was time that each star hanging from the sky was to give a testimony of his existence. After the soles of his shoes had had an interaction with the ground for quarter an hour, Sanders was in front of this door. On the door, a writing had been inscribed, ‘no one walks out of me the same way he entered. The walls had graffiti art of the great ones- Martin Luther King Junior, Che Guevara and Fidel Castro.

Sanders recognized that this is in deed the place from which redemption will come. He knocked the door twice. The door opened. Music was playing. It caught his attention. The lyrics of the song caught his attention as they sang, ‘bought my fate, straight from hell, second sight has paid of well for a mother, a brother and me…'(30 seconds to Mars-City of Angels). As he was still getting a grip of the song, he felt heavy hands landing on his shoulders. He turned. He saw. He was shocked. A man, probably 3 men in one, 6’7 feet, properly built body wise- though his face was not well built. And this man, maybe with the most hoarse voice questioned, ‘what do you want?
Sanders, still consumed by the song, replied, ‘To buy my fate straight from hell.’
‘You are at the right place, my brother.’ Said the super sized man.

A banana like smile cut through Sanders’ face. It was short lived. As he was blinking, he saw a sledge hammer like fist coming his way. Yes, yes he saw it coming but he couldn’t understand why he was unable to stray its path. At this point one thing is for sure, he wont get out the same way he came in. I mean, his face instantly changed from one that only a mother can love to that which the doctor says, ‘I’m sorry. Its a still birth.’ DISASTER!!

From a far, Sanders started experiencing the heat that comes with pain. The kind of pain he was feeling would lead you to the assumption that without a doubt, when pain was created God had Sanders in mind. This pain brought him back to consciousness. He didn’t shed a tear. A real warrior. But he was sweating. He was drenched. Just give him a couple of hours and he will drown in his own sweat.

His eyes opened to a dimly lit room. The 40 watts tungsten bulb dangled from a dusty insulated wire…supposedly, it was white. Sanders was hanging upside down. With only one foot tied.
‘Young blood, why set foot on a track that only the few with dark enough hearts can trade?’ Questioned the man with a hoarse voice.
‘Am tired…’ replied Sanders
‘( Sarcastic laughter) Tired? haha, why don’t you sit down or sleep. You have all the time son.’
‘You don’t know what I’ve been through, TAKE ME IN OR KILL ME!!’ Sanders shouted back
‘Hey! Hey! Hey!( in a rather stern tone) Gentlemen don’t shout, haha (he smiled mockingly) and just so you know, i love the sight of blood, I don’t mind killing you.’
‘Go ahead! We are all born to die. In the end, our souls will lay to rest the shuttered pieces of our worm infested flesh!

A round of applause followed Sanders’ words. Now the lights were properly switched on. Sanders was dropped down. After hanging upside down for that long, he was a bit too weak to stand on his own so he was helped up. An assembly of mean faces beautified with scars ugly enough to spell the name- demon was all around him. Their eyes were red, properly red, red like those of a baboon’s bottom. None of these people looked right for birth, I mean, even aliens have faces.

‘He looks ready, he sounds ready..’ the hoarse voice said
‘I was born ready!!” Sanders replied. A laughter followed his statement. Then a beat down started again. This time Sanders tried to fight back. The first guy came running. Sanders calmly stood and waited for him and as soon  as he was close enough, Sanders bent low enough for his hands to touch the ground then swept the man off his fee- literally, then gave him a couple of punches straight to the head and left him bleeding. The second guy came, running too. He had a dagger tightly in his hands. This seemed a b it tricky, Sanders was a bit tensed at this point. But out of adrenalin, he slid off harms way and using the guy’s momentum he drove the guy into the wall head first.

He then looked around and started shuffling his feet wondering who his next opponent would be. Then another came, and this time it was Sanders who launched the offense. Before this guy could be ready, Sanders speared him into the cold concrete floor. The rest did not dare attack after they saw this. This 21 year old was beginning to smell like danger. When he saw no one else was coming, he let his guard down and started staring around. And before he could notice anything, a broom stick landed on his head and he lost balance for a couple of seconds.

Groaning in pain, he kneels down.
‘Welcome brother, I say welcome,’ the hoarse voice began to speak again, ‘Welcome to the home of fallen souls. We are the snakes that slither underneath the skin of humanity.’
‘Yeah, you reign terror, I want to reign terror too. I want in!’ Sanders responded
‘So, what is the name that ugly reject of nature you call a mother give you?’ Sanders was asked
‘My mother….’ he was cut short
‘Was my first kiss..’ one of the men taunted
‘You wanna call her? Don’t struggle, she’s on my redial…’ another man mocked as the whole warehouse burst into laughter.

Deeply humiliated and angered, through his teeth he said, ‘Brutal Ophidian is the name’ That statement fueled the laughter in the warehouse. They all laughed their lungs out. ‘No wonder, no wonder your heads hosts such a face.

‘Silence!!’ The hoarse voice spoke ‘If truly you want to join this brotherhood then initiation is what awaits you.” he continued
‘But I thought the beat down wa…’
‘You thought without thinking. Ophidian…the hoarse voice said sarcastically then smacked Sander’s in the face, ‘never interrupt this Emperor when he is talking.’

At this point Sanders didn’t mind the pain. Situation had escalated to that point where he would rather feel pain than nothing at all.

‘Mr Want to Reign Terror, would you consider it such a sin if one would stand and claim what belongs to them? the Emperor asked.
‘It depe…’ as Sanders tried to answer he was cut short with another smack on the face.
‘Are you ready to create what God in his wisdom would never design? (pause) One could still feel the Emperor’s hoarse voice reverberate through and through that warehouse which hosted this gang. ‘Child, I tell you, your sweat isn’t blood but its more than water. The acidity you host and keep within has corroded your innocence and drawn you away from your God. Who is he anyway? So I tell you, Ophidian, stand near to me. Be brave son, be brave even under the moon so dark. On my wings will you ride as over these planets we will fly!’ Immediately he finished talking, he slit Sander’s palm and let the blood floor into a basin of water. He then walked away, smiling.

Sanders was left wondering, ‘what lies beneath the Emperor’s sick twisted smile?’

Then a four foot nothing man walked towards Sanders. A big brown envelope at hand. He did not speak a word. He threw the envelope at Sander’s feet. Looked straight in Sanders’ eyes then looked at the envelope as though to communicate something. Still looking straight into Sanders eye, the short man’s middle finger was sure to salute Sanders even as he walked away. Everyone else walked off at this point with their hoods on. It looked like an assembly of demons.

The envelope had the writings, INITIATION.’ Sanders opened it, he saw an M11 gun and a smaller envelope fell from this bigger one with the writings, ‘INSTRUCTIONS.’

The moon justly stood up the sky. Stars lay themselves in their constellations but didn’t show much excitement. The cold morning air was heavy and yes, you could feel the presence of the devil as he made his last tears on earth.

Sanders and three other men had their masks on. They set up themselves betwixt two flats where street lights knew better than to intrude. Each of these men had a 4 inch dagger and fully loaded M11 guns. You could feel the temperature go twenty below. Even crickets stopped their music. Then one of the men peeped from that corner and saw a lady approaching. Then he whispered,’the day, the hour, the minute has come. Now or never!’

Matt Shadows once sang, ‘The day has come for all us sinners.If you’re not a servant, you’ll be struck to the ground.
Flee the burning, greedy city. Looking’ back on her to see there’s nothing around. I don’t believe in fairy tales and no one wants to go to hell. You’ve made the wrong decision and it’s easy to see. Now if you wanna serve above or be a king below with us, You’re welcome to the city where your future is set forever.’ (Avenged Sevenfold-Beast and the Harlot)

She drew closer and closer. Their hearts beat faster and faster. Sanders left as the first guy and jerked her by her throat and covered her mouth so she could not scream. The other two helped carry into an incomplete construction site. Adrenalin was high. With a tape they covered her mouth and tied her hands.

Tears were already running down her face. One of the guys put a bag over her face. The beat down began. With metal-headed timberland shoes she was kicked in the abdomen with a non-stop kind of motion. But that was only one person. The other stepped on her every joint. From the ankles at the feet. to the knees to the waist. So brutal and violence was it that the knee cap gave up and broke. That was pain. But those are only two people. The third guy, who was busy smoking, after every puff he took he placed the burning cigarette on her skin. Well, keep in mind that a cigarette burns at about 580 degrees.

Sanders was busy making use of his dagger. As though drawing a map, he ran his sharp edged dagger down her spine, right from her neck down to the small of her back. It didn’t stop there. He continued running the dagger down her body. You can imagine where else the dagger tore the lady. Stained with blood, Sanders looked at his dagger, smiled then licked the blood on it.

At this point in my head, I can hear the Emperor’s voice say, ‘Are you ready to create what God in his wisdom would never design?’

After the kicking, the stepping the burning and being literally torn, everybody chucked their heavy leather belt. Led by Sanders, the men started beating her with those belts. They landed anywhere and everywhere. But the guy who was smoking thought the bare belt was not enough so he tied a blade to the end of his belt and continued beating her. Every time this belt landed on her some flesh accompanied it. And so she was whipped. Torn apart. She was almost drowning in her own blood.

My spirit feels and hears her cry for help. But its 3am in the morning. Only demons lurk in the environment so her cries and prayers for help just got chocked. Sanders, in his quest to reign terror, cut off her toes one by one. He made sure that before he cut the toes he had removed the nail. He did this till this lady had no toes left. She was a fountain of blood. She writhed in pain. Her body shook with agony. I do not understand why her heart hadn’t stopped beating. That would be a good point to die…

At this point, I see why hell was created.

They were under an incomplete building. This only means that more destructive tools lay there waiting to be used. Yes, you thought that right, one of the guys stood up and picked up a huge building stone and let it fall on her hips. Do you feel that hip bone crack? Can you hear the sound of it breaking? Can you picture it break so bad that it tears the skin above it?

Then Sanders knelt down where she was. He spread her legs wide apart, not paying attention to the pain. He pulled off his mask and drew the bag from her face. He took the tape off her mouth. It is said, let the victim look into the eyes of the attacker. The a torch was lit so that both Sanders and the lady can see each other. Sanders continued to rip her clothes off. He was getting ready for this…

The lady cried the more. Then with a great struggle she started to speak, ‘God, sing for the hopeless. Am the one you left behind!’ She paused to swallow a combination of painful saliva and blood. ‘Sanders,’ she continued, ‘my son!! My own flesh and blood!! Even as I lay here underneath, your cold jaded eye…’

Before she could finish speaking, Sanders pulled out his gun. Put to his temple and pulled the trigger…

36 thoughts on “Put Me To Sleep…

  1. You are such an amazing writer.
    The description so vivid and everything comes to play so clearly in mind..
    Its a great story as well..very creative.

    Beef…you dare compare my fave colour to a baboon’s butt..of all things??
    Uchokozi I see…iz okay.

    Zekho..in this context it means kudos!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is a carefully well-written piece that is devoid of bloviation. Am however a little been concerned with the overuse of one stylistic device of writing;vivid description. Otherwise, good and captivating storyline development. You are indeed going places.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Okay so my names Paige Rading i don’t think you know me and all but this story of yours is very Pain staining to thy soul . I feel like the imagery that you emphasized spoke to me 🙂 evoking strong emotions in me that have been awakened from a Deep dark place where they lay… Thank you very much and keep on doing what you do 😀
    ~Your #1 fan 😀


  4. When you commented on my work saying how incredible you found it, for some reason I thought that your own work wouldn’t be on par (very arrogant of me). I loved the story, I loved the imagery, and I loved how captivating it was.

    P.S. What do you think of the theme change on my blog? New story coming out soon 😉


  5. Am in love with your stories Ray.This one was a bit too scary but there is excellent use of language.You can give me advice also on my blog at amunala.wordpress.com.am an amateur.


  6. interesting piece… it’s awesome… and If I may ask, what theme are you using in your wordpress account?


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