SACRED_OATHS

Author: Samuel Frederick

Episode 31: CAN’T BREATHE.

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One week later.

We abducted a member of the rival gang and held him in our custody for one week. One week of merciless beatings, terrific torture and brutal starvation like they did to me, yet, he refused to say anything concerning his gang’s location.

We devised all sort of methods, used all sort of techniques to torture him, but still, he didn’t budge. He acted abrasively stubborn!

So, having no other option left, Simon’s next idea was to cut off his ears and his fingers, and maybe a toe from his foot too. Maybe by doing all that—according to Simon—he might confess. But I protested against Simon’s suggestion! I decided to intervene instead.

I asked them to take me to the torture room so that I could speak with the hostage in person. At first, Boma was reluctant by declining my request adamantly, but after much plea and pressure from me, he finally allowed me to go, albeit hesitantly.

I was led to the boys’ quarters behind the main building, where I’d never stepped in since I arrived here, primarily because of what the name implied, so as a lady, I assumed I had no business whatsoever being there, until today.

However, it was locked with two big, rusty padlocks, making it a bit of a hassle before we got in.

If I hadn’t seen this guy before we abducted him seven days ago, I would’ve said that he wasn’t the same person I laid eyes on when I walked in, because his face had really changed, probably as a result of the endless beatings he got every day. His eyes were swollen and soggy, so were his cheeks. His lips had lost shape, and his body was something else entirely to look at.

He was cuffed and chained to an iron chair, clad only in trousers as his bare wounded body remained visible and vulnerable to infections. I would’ve felt pity for him if they had also pitied me when they kidnapped and tortured me mercilessly.

I drew a chair and placed it in front of him and sat. Boma stood behind me while Simon moved behind the hostage. I paid rapt attention to his reactions, trying to study him. I watched how his eyes flickered as he raised his head up slowly to face me.

For a moment, he looked like he was shocked when we both made eye contact, glaring at me intermittently. In a split second, he raised his brows and frowned with his fists clenched, showing no readable facial expression.

“You again?!” He exclaimed angrily, bitterness evident from the tone of his voice. “So na you dem use catch me? God go punish you!” He cursed.

From the back, Simon lashed his neck with a swift blow, and he yelped in pain.

“Say one more word, and I’ll give you double of it!” Simon warned menacingly, clenching his fist for another blow, but I interceded for him.

“You should be thanking me you are still alive now,” I said to the hostage, “instead of misbehaving.”

“I should be thanking you? I swear na God go punish you for me!” He cursed again, wide-eyed. “You dey mad!”

Despite my already raging temper, I managed to keep calm and tolerate his foul attitude.

“I want to help you, only if you behave yourself and cooperate with us.” I said, trying to reason with him. “Do you think you can do that for me?”

“So this one that you good-for-nothing idiots did to me isn’t enough for you all, huh? Are you people mad? You tortured me for three good days without food and water, yet you still get mind to come back dey yarn bullshit for my face!” He fumed. “E be like una dey craze sha!”

This time around, I just lost it! I snapped my fingers and right away, Simon whipped his back with a strong chain, thrice. He screamed with agonizing pain!

“What’s your problem? What is wrong with you?” I was forced to yell at him. “I am trying to be nice here. I’m trying to reason with you, fool! It’s for your own good! Don’t make me change my mind!”

“And if you change am, wetin go happen?” He spoke again, chesting his pain, glaring at me with confidence.

This guy had guts indeed! He was definitely trying to show us how stubborn he was.

“Simon, maybe you should tell him what we actually planned to do to him before I pleaded on his behalf.” I said, folding my hands.

“Well,” Simon bent a little bit and fixed his lips close to the guy’s left ear, “I actually wanted to cut off your fingers, cut out your ears, chop off one of your toes, and last but not least, gouge one of your eyes and cook everything in a nice pot of soup for you to eat.”

On hearing that, a cold chill ran down the guy’s spine. He looked shocked, vulnerable and terrified at the same time.

“So you see why I said you should cooperate?” I asked.

He nodded almost immediately, filled with fear. That fear was the exact factor I needed to proceed.

“So tell me, who do you work for?”

Silence.

“I said, who do you work for?” I repeated.

Silence again.

Simon was about to lash him again when he opened his mouth and said, “I work for a set of people who I’ll prefer to keep anonymous. Everything we do is meant to be confidential. Even if I tell you who they are, I don’t think you would know them.”

“Just talk!” I urged him on.

He heaved a sigh and continued speaking: “Our major aim is to help them win the upcoming election in any possible way, regardless of any obstacle we might face. We were given orders to waste anyone that proves to be a threat to us. I was only following orders, I swear to God. I didn’t abduct you on purpose!”

“But you kidnapped me anyway.” I said, grimacing. “Whatever you say right now doesn’t change anything. Nothing counts.”

He was mute.

“You kidnapped me and you also killed my friend. You all raped and murdered her in cold blood. Isn’t that enough reason for us to kill you now if I decide to?”

Again, he stayed silent.

“Let me take over from here.” Boma said from behind me and came forward. “If I ask you anything, just give me direct answers at once,” he warned cautiously, and the guy nodded.

“First of all, wetin be your name?” Boma asked.

“Scorpion Bite!” The guy answered.

“The name wey your mama and papa give you, idiot!”

“Bolaji na my real name,” he replied, bowing his head.

“So Bolaji, who exactly are those people you work for? We already know Senator Randy Ogbonna as the main villain; we know about the coward that calls himself Big Tiny and that other idiot called Lady Tee, who looks like someone suffering from albinism. Who else is attached to the list, and how do we track them?” Boma queried.

“I don’t know anything about the Senator. I can swear on my life about that. Neither do I know anything about Big Tiny or Lady Tee’s whereabouts.”

“Bolaji, don’t lie to me!” Boma warned viciously.

“Bros I no dey lie to you. If you don’t believe me then that’s your bloody problem!” He said.

Three hot slaps followed after that statement. Boma didn’t waste time at all.

Three hot slaps accompanied by a kick to his stomach and a well-aimed uppercut to his jaw.

“Boma stop!” I quickly stood up to hold him back. “Please, stop.”

“Fifi leave me alone!” He yelled furiously. Nevertheless, I didn’t release my grip from his arms.

“Leave him alone, please. Just let me talk to him one more time,” I pleaded on Bolaji’s behalf. “I beg of you. Please!”

Hesitantly, Boma shifted back and gave me space to come forward. I released my firm grip from his arms and stepped closer to the guy, bending slightly before him.

“Bolaji, this might be your last chance, so it’ll be better if you don’t screw it up. I don’t want you to die here. I want to help you. Let me help you. Try to cooperate with us, please.” I said, pitying him already. “Please?”

“Fuck you!” was what he said next, right to my face. “Bitch!”

I was baffled. Despite how nice I tried to be, despite how cool and considerate I sounded to him, that was the best response he could give? Fantastic!

“Do whatever you want with this guy. I’m done here!”

I turned around and started walking to the door angrily.

“I told you this was a bad idea, didn’t I?”

Ignoring Boma’s criticism, I exited the boys’ quarters and soon enough, I heard someone’s footsteps behind me. I looked back, and realized that it was none other than Boma following me, so I walked faster, even though I could hear him calling out to me. I was too angry to respond. I didn’t stop.

All of a sudden, as I wanted to take another step, a sharp pain struck my stomach, making me scream extremely loud.

Swiftly, Boma ran to me with shock and concern, calling my name repeatedly. I bent down with one hand on my thigh and the other on my tummy.

“What happened?” Boma asked, holding my shoulders.

“I felt a sudden sharp pain.” I said, still gripping my stomach tight. “It hurts a lot!”

“Sorry, dear.” He whispered to me, stroking my arms. “Do you think you can walk?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, let’s try,” he said and held my hand and tried to lift me up, but the moment I lifted my legs, the sharp pain emerged again, striking harder than before.

I screamed and fell back, breathing heavily, and fast.

The next thing I knew, I felt this sudden urge to throw up as a bile hung in my throat, jeopardizing my entire system. Trying to hold it in, I felt something else rushing up from my stomach to my throat and, in the blink of an eye, I vomited heavily on the bare ground, struggling to breathe.