The Scapegoat...? (655 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.81 on 23 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by BillyGoat (View user info) at 2008-11-17 03:54:29 EST
When the fire dies down and the wood has turned to ash. The red glow fades into distant amber, vanquishing the dancing shadows from the walls. The hut fills with smoke, too thick to be funnelled out through the hole at the top. It lingers and stings his flared nostrils then disappears. The air is replaced by the smell of sizzling goat meat cooking in the iron pot. He wafts the last of the smoke away, hums a little tune and turns to the frightened girl pressed against the wall.
What's beautiful? He thinks. Is it the scream from her echoing mouth or the barrel that stops the air rushing out when it jams against the back of her throat? Or is it the colours that are more vivid now she's close to death- white teeth on black barrel covered by pink parted lips, dripping crimson blood. Was this the same mouth that rejoiced when a million of his tribesmen were slaughtered? No, it can't be, she is too young. But the blood of her forefathers' runs through her, she has the same evil streak that needs to be eliminated. And now as the barrel bores further into her mouth, the colours appear more vibrant as they are washed by her streaming tears.
The blood covered barrel is ready and poised. She doesn't fight back. He pulls the trigger feeling its resistance in his tautioned muscles. A bang announces the ejection of a bullet. What's truly awesome is to see bits of bone, brain, lips, teeth and eyes, amalgamate into a paste that paints the walls. And to hear the heavy thud as the infidel hits the ground and to see her turn into a brown, dust covered mess lying motionless on the ground.
He watches the remaining brain matter oozing from the corpse. Her cracked stomach is inflated by malnutrition creating stretch marks like those on his wife, whom he vaguely remembers. The girl's skinny hands are those of a child. A child he can never imagine having, now that his wife is gone and his life is spent dodging bullets in the jungle. He stirs the pot and the vapours rise to his brain. The genocide was 14 years ago but the memories are just as vivid as yesterdays...
The goat is almost ready. The spices have fused with the onions and the meat is tender. His stomach grumbles as he dips his hand into a clay pot and takes out a bunch of peppers. He throws them into the pot and continues stirring. His wife was always particular when it came to food. This haphazard approach was never her style, she'd have added each pepper one at a time to get maximum flavour. But he has no time, cooking in the jungle means throwing it all in and bringing everything to the boil in the shortest time period. The sizzling stops when the lid is replaced. He moves to the small square window and looks.
Bullet riddled corpses lie all over the red soil waiting to be picked off by the circulating vultures. An overwhelming smell of gunpowder hangs everywhere except in those places where the it competes with the scent of burning flesh. A few soldiers emerge from one of the huts. They grin and acknowledge him and he nods. A groan, then a shot and another soldier emerges doing up his flies. The soldier gives him a wink and a thumbs up and saunters to a group who are eating beneath a tree at the edge of the village. They chatter away, watching the sun set beyond a ridge and disappear behind the volcanic Virunga mountains. These are his men. Men like him, who have lost everything, who find comfort in each other, knowing that they can never go home. Once considered an inferior race in their homeland. They fight to the death, vowing to never give up until they avenge the death of their tribesmen.
Light turns into darkness and the hut gets even dimmer. The dusty corpse is propped against the wall and he watches it as he adds the tomatoes to complete the stew. "The trick is to add one and a half tomatoes to every handful of meat or else the tomatoes will drown the taste," he remembers his wife saying the night his village was attacked. His little son had let out a small laugh as if to agree with its mother. Both parents smiled but the jollity was cut short by wild screams outside.
They attacked from east, leading with machine guns and hand grenades. Those who weren't killed in the initial surge were forced out of their huts and shot. Some ran but many were caught before they got far. Yelping children were silenced and old men and women who begged for mercy had lead stuffed down their throats. Those who tried to retaliate were disabled first, then mutilated and left to die minus genitals, arms and legs. Girls were killed after the soldiers had had their fill and a few were kept as slaves, only to be slaughtered at the next village when a fresh batch was acquired. He pulled his wife towards the trees and continued moving using the thick foliage as cover. He tried to carry her, when she got tired, but it was impossible with the baby strapped to her back. So he let her rest. But the baby started crying, alerting one of the soldiers who began firing in their direction. He remembers her hand slipping away and the panic on her face when she realised he wouldn't be coming after her. She sat cradling the little infant as he disappeared into the bush on his way to join the rebels. He hasn't seen her body or that of his son since, but he has no doubt that both contributed to the million that were massacred that year.
The stew is done. The pungent smell has gone and the meat is tender. He takes a bite and the goat melts in his mouth. What's left of the cadaver's mouth, remains open as if to say something, but it being dead, says nothing. He continues eating, whilst the anger builds up in him. Tomorrow he'll be commanding his troops across the ridge towards the enemy stronghold.
Yet beyond the ridge, an opposing general is mobilising his troops. The village marks the midpoint between them and the rebel troops whose dominance stretches all the way to Lake Kivu. Taking this village will give them a strategical advantage over the rebels. He rallies his troops and orders them to advance.
*
Back in the hut, The General struggles to bring food to his mouth. His arms are beginning to slow and the bowl falls to the ground. He starts to sweat and his legs buckle when he tries to get up. He crashes onto the clay pot, spreading its content across the floor. Among, the peppers is a thinly sliced root whose fibres contain a slow release nerve agent which takes about an hour to kill its victim...
The villagers could not escape. They were surrounded and it didn't matter which army turned up first because the outcome would be the same. They mixed the peppers with the poison knowing that the root would be hard to spot in the dim light. They accepted their fate and waited for their death. When the troops came, they rushed into their huts and the soldiers followed, fuelled by hunger and hatred. The last thing many of the villagers saw was the soldiers' eyes lingering over the stew and they happily died knowing that their job was done...
The General twitches as his lungs begin to tighten. He sees the dead girl's open mouth, striated belly and child like hands fade away and before he dies, he hears his enemy pilling in. He is still conscious when a round of bullets tears into him.
They hold his head aloft and sing and cheer. They use is it as a football and when its all crashed and mangled, they replace it with that of his lieutenants.
But soon their stomachs begin to grumble and they too reach for the pots of boiling goat stew...
And so the cycle of life and death continues in the jungles of the Congo.
User Reviews
Submitted by simple_catalyst (user info) at 2009-08-12 16:35:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
WTFINRAT.
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2008-11-18 14:49:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yes, you're starting to understand how this uber thing works
Submitted by TheGoat (user info) at 2008-11-18 14:21:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
http://www.ubersite.com/m/119774 ape related linkwhore
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2008-11-18 12:30:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/117357 ape related link whore
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2008-11-18 12:30:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
bickerstaff is about the only one.
Circe gets good numbers, but then her titles are mostly stand out-ish
Submitted by TheGoat (user info) at 2008-11-18 09:41:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i'll leave camwhoring for another day. i'm not yet ready for an absolute mauling. as for the title thing...i absolutely agree. though some writers (e.g Bickerstaff) seem to draw in the crowds without resorting to a catchy title. but then that's based on the strength of their writing..
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-11-18 09:22:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
It's true enough. Everybody noticed Pheeley more when they saw what a sexy li'l minx she was.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-11-18 09:17:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-11-18 14:05:58 GMT (#)
Ranking: 2
If you want to improve your hit count on a serious piece of writing, give it a standout title. Even if it's nothing to do with the story, it will draw people into making that decisive click to see what you've got to say.
Standout titles will suggest titillation, sex, surrealism, or something profound.
For example, you called this 'The Scapegoat...?' If you'd called it something like 'Farmyard Handjob Sluts' it would have close to 1000 hits by now.
Although it would make you a bit of a sell-out.
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FJ, the guy could be a hotty. Shut up blathering about titles and agree with camwhoring.
I mean, sometimes you could have a good title and still be ignored 'cos your user name is unknown.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-11-18 09:05:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
If you want to improve your hit count on a serious piece of writing, give it a standout title. Even if it's nothing to do with the story, it will draw people into making that decisive click to see what you've got to say.
Standout titles will suggest titillation, sex, surrealism, or something profound.
For example, you called this 'The Scapegoat...?' If you'd called it something like 'Farmyard Handjob Sluts' it would have close to 1000 hits by now.
Although it would make you a bit of a sell-out.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-11-18 08:59:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Listen up goat, you got the uniter +2 don't complain too much.
If you want more hits/reviews may I again suggest a camwhore to raise your profile. If you are ugly, or of ethnic origin then use a random pic of some hunky guy. Review posts of people you would like to review you. Be controversial, make a hate post.
Nothing of value ever gets truly noticed (I see fantastic fiction rated +2 on 12 all the time) unless you act either a cunt or a whore :)
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2008-11-17 18:31:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2008-11-17 15:52:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
hit
Submitted by Squirrelly_Girl (user info) at 2008-11-17 13:01:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
:::sniffle:::
Poor Gorillas. :(
Submitted by TheGoat (user info) at 2008-11-17 11:33:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
needs more hits :-(
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-11-17 09:17:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-11-17 09:05:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
http://static.guim.co.uk/Guardian/arts/gallery/2008/feb/08/photography/GD6161321.at.This-picture-by-South-5387.jpg
Submitted by DrogoRoch (user info) at 2008-11-17 07:30:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2008-11-17 06:29:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yup, that's some messed up shit right there.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-11-17 07:21:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Actually, I am fairly certain Mountain gorillas have never successfully bred in captivity, some have been born whilst in captivity but the mothers were already gestating at time of rescue/capture.
Sorry goat, I know you like comments on how to improve your writing but I am useless at that. :(
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-11-17 07:06:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Brando, that is good news if correct, however, kinda sad to think we might have to rely on captivity to keep the species alive.
Submitted by BranDo (user info) at 2008-11-17 06:45:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sad, bad & mad things happen there. Both sides misbehaving.
Phelia, there are gorilla's bred in captivity though. In the Netherlands there is a zoo that only has apes and they've 'produced' more than 30 gorilla's over the years.
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2008-11-17 06:29:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yup, that's some messed up shit right there.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-11-17 06:23:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well played, and what 'Phelia said.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-11-17 04:19:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I really wanted to do a post about the Congo but I had no idea where to start.
The stories of children being raped by soldiers were sickening enough but then to hear that fathers are being forced to rape their own children, kill their own children, well it makes my heart bleed.
Then there is the fact that the last remaining 720 silverback gorillas are now at the mercy of cut throat soldiers who kill them not just for bush meat but sport. Not gorilla has ever successfully bred in captivity. RIP gorillas.
That picture tells a thousand stories.
And now I am sad.