beelzebub

“I can’t even tell how it came to be. I at first thought it was a cooked up tale or pure paranoia among the people. You know they are pretty dramatic and would fuel anything to force boredom out of their normally boring and routine lifestyle. I couldn’t bring myself to believe…… till I saw. Just like you are now,

“IT IS REAL.”

“Aw, here comes my assistant do you mind telling the story from its wild beginning?”

“It started with a peasant woman at the very edge of the expanse, the one living on the late Livingstone’s piece. She was their maid once and as you all know she was a widow and had two children. One very wild and abusive eighteen year old whom debauchery is his second name, and that very little lady Meredith with wispy straw coloured hair, about six. The mother didn’t even worry when she slid off for she very well knew her path through the man made forest that the Livingstones had made. Only rabbits existed there now. The woman’s curiosity was piqued when she didn’t hop in for dinner as she usually did. Worse was when the sun started dipping and still her skinny self wasn’t visible in the distance. Her motherly instincts were convinced that all wasn’t straight but she tried reassuring herself over and over that she was good as she picked a heavy stick to follow the path before the sun dipped. She didn’t have to go far. The evidence did lay right in front of her. Her daughter was there just as she expected her to be. But there was trouble. Her prettiest clothes had been torn and there was blood all around. Something had mauled her neck. That was all the mother had to see then, for she was found faint an hour later, who to find her but her prodigal son? He had steadied at the sight and all the alcohol flown out of his oval head and he is the one that raised the alarm. Only three people, me included turned out in response as the young tyke was known to shout in his drunken throes but this time there was a sense of urgency in his loud pitch. I remember the sight and how it scared us as we rushed to the woman who was now stirring on the ground, some of her daughter’s caked blood on her cheap frocks. She had to be held back as she vehemently shook the little form on the musty undergrowth. The pain in her eyes is on e I wouldn’t forget so soon. I’ve seen and felt pain before but hers, God it was intense. She was too poor to afford a post mortem on her daughter and she didn’t want to burden the people, after all times were tense and none would give forth to a death cause. The sweet thing was buried a day later at the public cemetery, a poorly attended ceremony due to heat stress and poor eating habits too, times were tense you know. There was no much speculation after the death as the people concluded that a marauding canine was passing through the village but given the fact that there were only two animals around, chewed at the young lady and bounced off. I can remember the strength of the woman at the burial as she didn’t shed a single tear all through. It was also my first time to see the young lad sober, a look of defeat on his face as if he blamed himself for anything as he held his quiet mother tight, a bond between a weird mother and a predictable son.

People had better things to focus on and the event was forgotten five days later.

“The event was forgotten and the village was quiet again for two and a half weeks as they everyday watched for the oncoming rain. Then disaster struck. Again. This time a drunken cohort shouting obscenities at every tree and boasting of his conquests to tired ears did let off a scream so loud that every sleeping soul was aroused. He kept quiet for another ten seconds before the second rent the air. The third was heard as from far off and it seemed apparent that something was dragging him off. No one responded then. It could wait till morning for danger does lurk in the darkness. The night was long.

I was the first person to walk out that morning, a musket at hand and fear to push me through the dewy grass. A trail of blood was still visible and the peering sun sparkling on it as if daunting me to move forth and face our very same fate. I met three other neighbours, Boaz, Timothy and Craig Thompson and we together followed the trail speaking under the breath and at the sight all of us wretched as our stomachs turned cold in fear and bile. The man was barely recognizable. His mouth had been mauled off, tongue and all and his teeth stood out in a grim smile, stained eyes wide in fear and surprise. He was probably from the other side of the town. White mites were already making beds in his shirt pockets. His identity did read Antonym Mac Thompson and he was a plumber and about forty five. “Probably has been away for long given his scraggy appearance”, Craig had said while unruffling his collar with his musket’s muzzle. The chief here had then arrived with his soldiers and a multitude of curious villagers and onlookers a bit late as is his style and after single glance and a side spit, the phrase, ‘they nicked him bad’ was what he said and they picked up the now stinking form onto a small horse carriage and rode off.

Speculation was rife then but almost everybody bought the idea of a ravenous lion but none wondered why the animal didn’t roar or even bleat if it could? An idea of a dog was dismissed with a wave of the hand for we had killed all the dogs in the place when we could no longer feed them and they had started preying on the young sheep and goats. The notion that the same animal that attacked this man was dismissed as they believed the attack was purely coincidental and no animal would dare lurk around and attack people at around the same spot.

The answer came in three days later and this time some people were able to see what form it came with, one becoming delirious and a raving maniac weeks later. They had seen the devil, the merchant of death, one that scares the daylights out of terror itself, the prince of demons. BEELZEBUB. It was a dog, it was a half lion half horse was the answer the next gave and this meant that we had to stay in the dark again. It had been seen by the two who had been walking near the river where Livingstone once farmed when rustling bushes attracted their attention and pray, they were in time to catch the sight. They had then taken off to their respective homes and the news had then spread to their wives and the neighbours later in the day. It was time we as the men had to take to arms and fight the enemy whose strength and wit we could only imagine. That night we stood out at about the same spot they claimed to have seen the sight with them exempted due to their weak knees and constitutions. “be ready for what you’ve never and may never ever again see in your lives “ were the parting shot before they half ran back to the safety of their cottages.

It was so fast that most of us almost missed it, like the strike of lightning. The black mass whizzed from the shrubs and stood a small distance from us and bayed, one cold bay. Four men fainted, three took off, only the chief here and three of his officers stood their ground but that doesn’t mean that we were better off. Our hands were numbed and our bodies transfixed that we couldn’t even stretch forth and unsling our guns and just like that, it was gone. Now we could believe that the devil was amongst us. There was a series of prayers and vigils for the better part of that week and when two weeks passed on without any death event, it was assumed that it had taken off. But I knew better. People stopped praying that much and believed that the devil had been defeated. It hadn’t, not that easily. Then again it struck again and this time at a higher magnitude, attacked the very authority, the chief here. He had been in the office late working up this case and it seemed the dog knew just that. Superstition had for now been rife with people claiming that the animal was indeed the end time symbol. The chief had stepped out to see why the horses were neighing that much. They were the only two animals in that place, one for his transport and the other for official duty and I can tell he so treasured them. He had just been to the door when out of nowhere the black mass lunged at him and knocked him down, dripping lethal saliva on his face and there the chief struggled to free himself, too stunned to yell. It stuck its massive jaws into his thigh and right to the bone and this is when he was able to wail out. He had miraculously reached out for his gun and a shot so loud that it partly deafened him punctuated the thick night air. This was not before it had had violently eaten at his tummy and the chief too week to stand had crawled to his office verandah and I and his officers got to him an hour later and as we were struggling to administer first aid to him another alarm went up and we didn’t need to even know what had caused it. Only where.

I had then left the chief who was now out cold and his two soldiers bundling him into the carriage to take him to the village surgeon and rushed toward the call. It was Boaz this time and man, he was in a bad shape. He was gurgling and writhing painfully in his dying throes. I remember feeling the tears coming to my face. Anyone but not my best friend. Just not him. His eyes appealed to me and I pulled the trigger. His throat had been pulled out and was now hanging out and his chest heavily bleeding as seen from the crimson patch. “He had been responding to the chief when he met the beast running in the opposite direction, he hadn’t enough time to pull the trigger” was what Craig did tell me. I could hear the painful cry of his wife and two of the daughters wailing mournfully in the main house.

The sun was breaking and I then passed a comforting hug to the distraught woman and headed home for a change of clothes and so left some men to take care of the body. We had work to do in an hour’s time and I kept glancing at the wall clock as I replayed our fond memories with my dear departed childhood friend and double checked my gun, barrel and all. The clock chimed and up I stood and joined Craig and two other men I didn’t know well. We were in luck for the chief seemed to have found his mark and a trail of blood did lead our journey till when we neared the river and our hearts did sink, for we all figured it might have crossed the river. We didn’t need to worry, for it is the one that found us. It was almost fifty meters away from us and it rose from behind a moss covered stone near a shrub covered band and even with its limp, still was pretty fast.

I fired the first and the two recovered their senses in time and echoed it. We slowed it down but it still rushed forth, fangs poised and glittering in the rising sun. Craig had five bullets and the dog lunged at him just as he shot his last. The two men took off at this. I jumped back and saw it going for the kill with clear and fatal precision. It was a clear kill. I literally lunged forth with the bullet and the big beast fell back with a hiss while Craig breathed a sigh. I helped him up his feet and saw in the distance people approaching with great caution as Craig limped into the arms of his wife. I heard a woman mumble a thankful and ruefully smiled. They had been defeated. Beelzebub was the only demon they couldn’t exorcize for it truly did outdo their fasts. I instinctively moved forth to check that stone and I was just in time. Two young puppies were scuttling along first taking the direction of the river and they jumped into the water and when one turned, its eyes made me recoil, for truly the slight moment we locked, all I saw was vengeance and distaste, hate the colour of the little beast. I raised my hands but I couldn’t shoot. I watched the current carry them through. This is my story,

“See, I tell you this is crazy”, the commissioner says gesturing to his other weird assistant and at the time stroking the heavily bandaged chief’s hand.

“Beelzebub shall be back I know and that’s why I told you all. Can we make provisions now?

“We are listening” the assistant spoke this time.