Monday, December 12, 2011


The night was clear and unbearably still.
And dark. So very dark.
Almost fitting given the nature of the deed to be done.
My companion led the way with purposeful strides, his manner a 
display of deadly grace.
And malevolence.
He gestured for me to follow silently.
Under the cover of the night we entered the village, unseen.
The huts were built haphazardly, and all over the place.
His lips curled in distaste.
The arid ground cracked under our feet sending up tiny clouds of dust.
A dog let out a pitiful howl in the distance.
A sudden shuffling in the shack nearby got my attention.
I grasped the weapon at my side and stood coiled, ready to strike.
A false alarm.
My companion seemed unfazed. Almost bored at the interruption.
It was evident that he’d done this many times before.
With a boost, we launched ourselves on to the rooftops.
Silent as shadows, we made our way into the periphery of the village.
Minutes later, I noticed he had stopped, his silhouette as still as a statue.
He was staring down intently at a ramshackle hut.
A faded, green door caked with dust, hung loosely off its hinges.
Our eyes met, and the nod that followed told me we had reached.
The clouds moved. We entered.
A sliver of moonlight shone through a window, illuminating what
we were looking for. Behind a wispy curtain, she lay on the
ground, shaking slightly. With a single fluid movement he reached her side,
making no more noise than a spirit. Wordlessly, he held out his hand in askance,
and I handed him his weapon. He stared at her for a long moment,
almost as if drinking in the hopelessness of her situation. His sudden fevered
breaths were in stark contrast to her ragged, shallow ones. Her eyes fluttered open.
A second later it widened in terror. His own flashed a remorseless crimson.
And with a savage smile, he moved in for the kill.
We watched with grim fascination as she clawed at her throat.
After what seemed like hours she emanated a horrible, guttural sound,
and her tiny feet twitched for the last time.
He surveyed his work with satisfaction. And handed me
back the weapon with a grateful nod. I dutifully kept at my side.
We had many more huts to visit that night.

Thirst is a killer. Wasting water makes you the accomplice.