Arthur had taken to sitting on the bow where he had met a fisherman that was traveling along the Amazon as well. The fisherman had introduced himself as Marcus, a retired Frenchman that enjoyed fishing only equally to his love of drinking. Resting at his side he maintained a silver bucket filled with ice and nestled inside his drink of choice, bourbon. “Unless it brings a little fire I don’t imagine it’s worth me swallowing.” This was the motto Marcus had come to live by since achieving an early retirement and a divorce from his wife of 22 years. When Marcus would need to take leave of his fishing pole to visit the latrine Arthur would seize this moment of opportunity to steal a sip of amber fire.
Arthur tried not to let his concern for his family show, allowing himself to wait till nightfall to let his tears escape. He would lay in bed listening to the hum of the engines, at times he could still overhear his father or sister retching in the neighboring compartment. Unable to sleep, Arthur shuffled over to look out his portside window and watch the silhouettes of trees and their branches claw out to the Amazon Queen.
Sophia sat up. She wiped away the sweat on her brow. Wrapping herself in her robe she exited the cabin, careful not to wake her sleeping father. Her eyes squinted from the yellow glow of the empty hall.
“Mom?” She called out, her voice barely audible over the engines. Using her hands against the walls to keep her upright, Sophia made her way to the double doors that led to the mess hall. She could smell an array of cooked meats and spices over the lingering stench of burnt oil. Her tongue slid across her moist lips as she pictured a plump cooked chicken resting on a plate with a variety of exotic fruits and sweets. Reaching the kitchen she stood in the doorway. Looking around she saw no one, apparently the staff had all retired to their bunks for the night. Sophia walked further into the kitchen hoping maybe she could find something to eat. A crash of pans falling to the tile floors startled her. A quiet laughter came from a hidden corner of the kitchen. Sophia inched her way closer to where the sounds had come from. A large refrigerator obstructed her view. She caught her breath as she heard a moan escape. Terrified she would be discovered at any moment she stood frozen against the refrigerator feeling its cool metal through her thin robe. She could hear the thumping of her heart, ready to burst from her chest. Carefully she peered around the corner to see the naked backside of a woman, her pale ass in contrast to the dark Mandingo before her. The woman’s head turned, her eyes wild with pleasure, Sophia squealed quickly escaping the way she had come.
“Sophia, please wait,” her mother called out as she emerged from the kitchen with her clothes hastily thrown back on. Sophia stood at the end of the hall, her chest heaving as she cried, unwilling to look back at her mother.
“Will you please turn around and look at me?”
Sophia shook her head. All this time, everything she had thought about her family and her life, had it all been a lie? Her mind raced, her body trembled. How would her father feel?
“Please, if you will only give me a moment to explain.” Her mother pleaded as she stepped closer to her daughter.
Gun fire erupted from above deck.
Hannah froze. She looked overhead as she heard heavy footfalls scurrying above.
The Mandingo emerged from the kitchen in his boxer shorts, a butcher knife clasped firmly in each hand.
“Go to your cabins, lock your doors!” He screamed with a thick Cajun accent. Screams erupted overhead followed by more gun fire. The Mandingo fled from the hall to enter the fight above deck.
A cabin door opened, Marcus stepped out into the hall between Sophia and Hannah with a bed sheet wrapped around him.
“Shit is that gun fire?”
Sophia turned to look at her mother.
Marcus looked at the women. He grew anxious as the chaos overhead seems to intensify with every heartbeat.
“Anyone mind telling me what the fuck is going on?”
The clatter of footfalls thundered overhead. All eyes followed the footfalls that led to where the Mandingo previously fled. Sophia backed her way down the hall her hands wrapping around a door knob.
“Maybe we should do what…” before she could get the chance to finish, a man in a well-worn military uniform emerged at the end of the hall. He snatched Hannah by the neck and threw her face first in to the wall. Her nose smashed on contact, splashing the wall with crimson.
Marcus darted for cover into his room, kicking the door shut behind him.
Sophia watched as the soldier lifted the large gun, the long barrel of the AK pointed at her.
“Don’t be afraid little one. Come here.” He ordered in broken English.
She looked to her mother sobbing helplessly on the floor. Sophia gripped the door knob. She twisted and turned the knob but it wouldn’t give. She pounded her fists across the door. “Arthur! Open the door!” Sophia turned to face the soldier. After stepping into a puddle of her mother’s blood his boots made a sticky smack.
“You will be mine.” The soldier laughed as he lowered his gun and with his free hand he began to unfasten his belt. “Come on girl…”
Sophia kicked and punched at the door. Suddenly she heard a faint click of metal and the twist of the knob. The door opened. Sophia rushed into the cabin slamming the door behind her. She could hear the heavy foot falls closing in. The door rocked on its hinges. Sophia looked to the far corner of the cabin. With his knees to his chest and eyes red from crying, Arthur hid in the shadows. The door continued to pound. A crack in the frame spread and split into multiple strands that continued to unravel. Chips of wood began to collect on the floor.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Sophia grabbed her brothers hand but he resisted, pulling free of her continuing to cower in the shadows. “We can’t just hide…” She was cut off as a blast of gun fire exploded through the door. In a flash, a bullet ripped through her brother’s eye as his head whipped back crashing against the wall. A stream of blood flowed from the bloodied eye socket. Her mouth opened to scream but nothing escaped as she knelt frozen in shock still clutching her brother’s hand. She crawled to him taking his limp body into her arms. Her hand clutched the back of his head as she cradled him. Blood fell freely between her fingers that were tangled in shards of his skull with matted clumps of hair. The softer warm parts were bits of brain matter her palm kept from spilling out onto the floor. His good eye fluttered open. A moan escaped his lips as his body seized in her arms. His pants collected with urine as his little body released its self of all its fluids. The rank smell of shit stung her nostrils as she continued to hold her brother. His hand reached for her. His good eye never straying from her. His arms flopped around. His fingers slicing her lip with his ragged nails. With her free arm she struggled to restrain her brother to no avail. His hands continued to claw at her face as his mouth widened as though he were an animal struggling to protect himself snapping at her.
“Stop it…Arthur please…you’re hurting me…” Sophia pleaded.
More gun shots rang out.
Sophia’s ears rang with a sharp hum, the gun shots registering as no more than muffled pops ripping through the soiled air. Another scream filled the cabin. Sophia turned her attention to look for who else could be screaming before discovering it was herself. She screamed, howling to the ceiling overhead as her brothers blood fell from her hands along with the rest of the contents of his head. His body fell to her feet. He remained motionless with one blank eye staring up at her.
From the hall another burst of gun fire erupted. She could hear screaming and shouting but it all seemed so far away at this point. Her body trembled, her fingers already getting sticky from the drying gore caked across her hands. Seconds ticked by as she continued to stare at the lifeless body of her brother.
The engine groaned to a halt. The riverboat jolted forward to a knocking halt. Sophia leapt to her feet. The Amazon Queen fell silent.
Sophia faced the door. No longer were there any attempts being made to knock down the door. She walked hesitantly; he
r hand wrapped around the knob and turned it. The door opened with an exaggerated creak from the fractured hinges. The door bumped against the body of the soldier face down in a large pool of blood.
Sophia looked down the hall. Along the long corridor all the doors were open.
“Daddy?” She called out, barely above a whisper. Her eyes inspected the doorway of her father’s cabin. The door was only cracked open. She inched her way closer to the doorway. The light from the hall was enough to illuminate the foot of her father’s bed. Her tiny hand pushed the door to her father’s cabin allowing it to swing wider. The yellow fluorescent light washed over the darkness of the cabin revealing more of the bed. Her eyes followed up the white sheets till her eyes saw red. The blood was still spreading down the sheets, droplets of blood patted against the floor. Her eyes rose higher to see a machete blade impaled deep, down to the black worn handle. Her father’s hands slipping across the handle unable to get a firm grasp. His eyes turned from the machete to his daughter.
He had meant to say, “Hey punkin.” but all that came out were harsh garbled sputters of blood spraying from his mouth and nose as he struggled to breathe.
Sophia knelt by her father’s side. She watched the tears fall across his cheeks as he gazed upon her helplessly. He looked at her, trying to take in every detail understanding this would be the final moment he would have with his daughter. She held on to her father’s hands, his grip tightened as the warmth seemed to be flow from them as they wrapped around her delicate fingers.
“Daddy what do I do…they killed them daddy. What do I do?”
His hands squeezed her tighter; Sophia bit into her lip to keep from screaming.
“You… must run… don’t let them catch you.”
Sophia clung to her father crying into his chest. His hand squeezing hers for a final moment before his grip began to ease. She knew he was dead but couldn’t let go. How could she run, where could she go? Despite what her father said she couldn’t leave them here to rot. She could feel the blood soaking through her top.
An explosion above deck rocked the boat. Sophia tumbled back, falling onto her families’ luggage that had spilled from beneath their beds. Sophia got to her feet wiping her hands across her soiled clothing. Pushing through the luggage she found her suitcase and opened it. After a quick glance to the still empty corridor she stripped out of her torn bloodied clothes wiping away as much blood as she could manage. Her pale skin was now blotched and stained pink. Following another quick scan of the corridor she grabbed a fresh set of clothes and got dressed.
She grabbed for her shoes as the most violent of explosions rocked the boat. Her head banged across the side rail of the bed. The sobering sting got her to her feet. The boat began to shift, making it all the more difficult to maintain her balance as she slipped on her shoes. The ship was beginning to sink. Sophia burst through the cabin and into the corridor with a renewed sense of survival, her natural instincts taking over. She slid down the corridor as the Amazon Queen rolled to its side. She hardly noticed her mother’s lifeless body lying in a more obscene position. The moment was enough to sear into her mind the last memory she would have of her family.
Topside she could hear more gun fire from further down the river. In the distance she could see another boat retreating from the floundering Amazon Queen. Water rushed over the gun wales. Sophia looked around frantically spotting the shore line in the near distance, an easy enough swim to safety. She glanced back for more survivors. All she could see were the shadowed remains of a massacre she felt relieved she was not a casualty of. She watched as shell cases rolled across the floor of the ship and into the rising water. Scanning the darkness of the shore all she could see was the faint tree line. The water continued to rise as the river consumed the Amazon Queen. Sophia dove into the black water and began her swim to shore.
Sophia opened her eyes. Heart racing as sweat poured across her brow. Her body struggled beneath the ropes that restrained her. Metal springs jabbed into her back from the rusted bed beneath her. She strained her neck to investigate her surroundings.
Shards of light did little to illuminate her meager prison made up of nothing more than sticks and twine. The heat was stifling. Though her throat was raw and sore a scream managed to escape from her lips. Instead of the ear piercing roar she strove for, all that emerged was a raspy gasp. She twisted and pulled but the restraints refused to surrender their hold.
Her thoughts raced. How long had passed since the attack on the river? Hours? Perhaps days? Had anyone else survived and made it to shore? Was anyone looking for her? Her eyes burnt from the tears. How she managed to find herself restrained was a complete blank as her mind was muddled with confusion and despair.
A scream snapped her back to reality. The cries of agony came from just beyond the confines of her hut. SMACK. SCREAM. She faced the wall, struggling to see beyond the cracks of the hut. SMACK. SCREAM. Over the screams she could hear an almost rhythmic wet smack. SMACK. SCREAM. The smacks were no doubt the blows being delivered to draw out such cries of pain. SMACK…SMACK…
A burst of light filled the hut as a small old woman entered with a bowl outstretched before her. As Sophia’s eyes strained to adjust, a new rush of horror washed over her. The woman was naked with the exception of dirt and paint caked across her body. Her hefty bosom swayed as the woman knelt at Sophia’s side pushing the bowl to her lips. The warm irony fluid filled Sophia’s mouth clogging her throat. Sophia pulled her head away but the woman took hold of her mouth, nails digging into her cheeks. The contents of the bowl washed down her throat. Sophia stared up into the deep set eyes that pierced through her. She had seen this look before. The very look of the bodies washed along the shore of the river. Only this woman was filled with life and what felt like some great unnatural strength. Finally the woman eased her grip. Sophia drank the air in huge gulps. The woman retired from the bedside without a word. As her body recovered her pulse seemed to slow to nothing more than a mere flutter. It was now that she had realized the screams from outside were no more.
Sophia awoke to darkness. Her legs were a nest of needles stirring from a motionless sleep. She turned to her side and froze. The ropes were no more. She sat up, a wave of nausea washed over her causing her body to retch. Her throat spasmed as her body released her stomachs contents to the dirt pact floor. She wiped away the spittle from her cracked lips as she regained her surroundings.
Her eyes strained as they stared into the darkness that surrounded her. A chill washed over her. Sitting up she carefully eased her legs over the edge of the bed. Her feet gently met the cool dirt floor. She balled her toes and flexed them, allowing the blood to circulate through her feet. Another wave of nausea passed as she stood for the first time. Carefully she moved one leg ahead of the next as she fumbled her way towards where she remembered the woman had entered the hut. Her hands pushed past a sticky leather curtain. A rush of moist jungle air hit her. Her eyes widened at the sight of a fire roaring ahead of her.
Beside the fire sat a man in a long feathered robe with a woman kneeling at his side. The man Sophia guessed to be the Chief. His head turned towards her. Cautiously Sophia stepped closer and closer to the fire; already she could feel the warmth across her face. She looked around the little village where several other huts like hers were erected, the fire pit being the village’s epicenter. She could see silhouettes in the darkness, their shadows moving along with her. The woman at the Chiefs side cocked her head towards Sophia; her eyes shimmered in the firelight giving another worldly air about her.
“What do you want from me?” Sophia asked trying not to let her fear show. The Chief simply smiled. What remained of his blackened teeth had been filed to sharpened points. Two men dressed in nothing more than a tattered loin cloth emerged from the darkness taking hold of Sophia. She twisted and kicked but their grasp only tightened. The men drug her towards the Chief; no one, answering her screams or pleas for help. The Chief carefully got to his feet, wiping away a st
ream of spittle hanging from his lips. He spread his arms letting the feather robe fall from his shoulders to his feet. He stood naked before her, his hands stroking his erect member.
Sophia continued to twist and scream as she was brought closer to the Chief. A stench of rot wafted her direction. The Chief swung his hand across her brow, his nails slashing across her cheek carving a stream of blood. Tears swelled down her face. The Chief squeezed and groped around her body. She cringed and pulled away at his touch but there was nowhere for her to go. His hands grabbed a handful of her shirt. He tugged and pulled till the shirt ripped free from her shoulders to reveal her ivory skin and under developed breasts bathed in the firelight. She clasped her eyes shut, trying to wake herself from the endless nightmare. She could feel the slickness of his tongue across her bloody cheek. There was a sharp tug at the back of her head as he grabbed a fistful of hair. His grip threatened to rip the hair from her scalp rendering her helpless. The men had released their hold as the Chief drug her forward.
Struggling to see through the tears in her eyes she was able to make out the entrance of a cave just beyond the tree line. She could see the small tongues of fire, flickering from within the cave. Once inside the cave she could hear her screams echo into the cavern of darkness that lay beyond the light. With a shove Sophia tumbled to the ground. Her body shivered from shock and the cool from the depths of the cave. The back of her head throbbed; her body flinched at the feel of her fingers stroking her hair.
The two men that had held her were now on all fours crawling towards her. Each took hold of one of her arms and legs. Restraints were wrapped around her limbs spreading her wide. The rope dug tightly into her wrists, blood soaking into the binds. Now on his hands and knees the Chief squeezed her crotch. Sophia yelped in pain as urine soaked her pants and into his hands. The Chief threw his head back laughing maniacally, she watched as he brought his wet fingers to his lips savoring the warm slickness of his fingers. His hands returned to her soiled pants. He fumbled with the buckle and zipper. She struggled beneath him. The Chief growled an order to his men and quickly they fell upon her pummeling her blow after blow to her face and chest till finally she fell limp beneath the Chief.
Masters of Taboo Presents: Cannibalism, Digesting The Human Condition (Limited Edition) Page 9
