The Taste of You

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

There’s something about the way skin tears that excites me; how it peels away as I put knife to flesh and bare the true face of its host. I can’t compare that feeling to any other, then again, have I ever felt this much and so many conflicting emotions at once before? To feel both mesmerised by Mother Nature’s composition, of what lies beneath the surface, made of several layers of tissue, to feel the edge of the knife gently unravel each layer, yet feel so… disgusted? So vulnerable? Beneath the skin, once it peels off and is gone, we’re all the same. Too similar, so uncannily similar.

I’ve always been an odd person. My obsession with the morbid, however, was not a result of this. You know those kinds of people, the ones who always seem kind and good-natured, yet are the most horrible beings? Only they’re good at hiding their true selves and fooling people into thinking the opposite. People always told me similar things growing up: “You’re such a kind person, so pure and innocent like falling snow.”

Just thinking of myself as “kind” and “pure” makes my skin crawl, especially since I know what I am.

I am a murderer. But not the kind you think of.

I don’t hate people, in fact, I’m not sure I’m capable of feeling anything. I just want to skin people, see what they look like beneath all that heavy, leathery tissue, to see their true forms and relish in the insight that only I have seen them, like really seen them. To stare into those hollow eyes once the skin is out of the way… how can I describe such a feeling? And the way that tissue feels on my skin as I place it over my face, and thinking for a moment, a fleeting moment, that we’re the same. Truly the same.

I like that part of the whole process more than anything, to put on my perfectly peeled mask and pretend I’m someone else. I’d wear the females’ clothes, craft wigs out of their beautiful, glossy hair, and put on some make-up. Then I’d dance the whole night, just dance away and pretend I’m the prettiest girl ever without being called a faggot or perverted loser.

Growing up in an all-boys school, I was used to being called all sorts of names and slurs, yet I didn’t mind any of them. I actually liked it; it made me feel like I was different, unique even. But I hated the idea of being told what to act like or look like. It wasn’t like I was overly feminine, either. Honestly, I received a lot of attention from females, especially in my twenties. They found my shyness cute, my awkwardness as some kind of mysterious attribution, and my effeminate features as a “pretty boy” trait.

Naturally, I chose a female as my first real murder. I’d killed animals before, practised on them to be more precise, and even murdered another human far too many times in my mind. Too many times, actually. And those vivid imaginations only made me even more eager to kill, to peel the skin off another human, and use it as my own.

Kayla was her name. Gorgeous thing. Despite looking so petite and feminine, she put up a real fight. I’d just taken off her bra and kissed her tenderly when I got the urge to taste her. Violently so. But not the kind of urge heterosexual males feel towards females; this was another kind of urge, one that was not sexual. I’ve never once felt sexual attraction to anyone or anything. Even this sudden urge lacked that sort of intimacy. I was just curious. What did this pretty thing look like beneath all those layers? Was she as pretty inside as she was outside? What did she taste like?

So, I pinned her down and punched her against the bed. She kept screaming. Kept telling me to stop. At one point, I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I couldn’t help it. Her soft, peaked breasts, the way her beautiful face distorted in horror, and the way she tried to push me away excited me in ways no words could describe. I guess I did feel some sort of sexual release back then, but it only happened that one time and only with her. I tried to replicate that feeling afterwards, always trying to mimic what I did to her with the others, but couldn’t.

Years later, I realised that I was in love with her, only I didn’t know it. I had never experienced love, and so I didn’t know how to express myself. I just wanted to be part of her and her to be part of me, and I was so sure that I only wanted to taste her, to see her real face beneath the skin, that I failed to recognise my own feelings. But at that point, I was too far gone to stop, too intoxicated by what Kayla had done to me and my perverted sexuality that all I wanted was to feel that way again in the most disturbing ways.

Sometimes, I’d wear her clothes and put on her face over mine, then I’d lie on the bed and slap myself repeatedly to relieve myself. It worked only half of the time, but I kept doing it. Over and over. Screaming, just like she did, then crying, begging myself to stop, saying “I’m sorry”, and then suffocating myself with her bra. It still smelled like the sweat of her soft breasts, which were now frozen solid in the freezer. I once cut up some of it to taste it, but they were so leathery that I just threw them away.

There are times when I look at her dismembered body and feel disgusted by myself, but other times I just use whatever I lay my hands on and try to relieve myself with her. But her hands are so cold that it never works. So, I stopped all that and just came to terms with the fact that I had to find some new hands – softer and warmer to the touch. No one would ever give me the sexual release Kayla gave me, I knew that, but I soon figured I just had to chop the head off and pretend those warm, cut-off hands were hers.

And so, my killing spree began in November of that same year I took this decision. Although I was still socially inadequate and it showed, I had managed to land a decent job at a chocolate factory, and women were still attracted to my pitiful personality, coupled with my above-average looks. There were days when I had two or three women over to my apartment, always of the same age as her, and took my time killing and dismembering them over the week. I didn’t like to rush things and was a perfectionist, and every new face and body required different tools and different care.

I liked especially the ones with some meat on them; that way, I could reserve some for supper and make soap with the fat. Did you know humans have yellow fat, by the way? I never knew until I chopped this middle-aged Somali woman. She’d given birth to six children and had fat in the right places. I must’ve used a great portion of her to make a whole course meal and several batches of fat. Which reminds me of something: she was the one who eventually helped me see my true potential and my innate talent for cooking and craftsmanship.

Long story short, I joined the cast of MasterChef – one of thousands and millions of home cooks, who were lucky enough to impress the judges and begin a new phase in life. Over the course of eighteen weeks, I became a fan favourite and earned the nickname “The Handsome Chef”, and when I came in second, I opened my own restaurant downtown and got people queuing for my dishes. My speciality? Sous vide turkey breast in vanilla and orange broth to enhance the sweet taste and give it a tang, served with a roux-based sauce made with a dash of cinnamon to double the effect of the vanilla without taking too much away from it.

You know, at first, I really wanted to start anew and make things the right way. But although I was making the bank, my urges were hitting an all-time low. Receiving attention from all those females, smelling their intoxicating sweat, seeing their soft and peaked breasts through their deep V-neck shirts, was getting to me. But, miraculously, I was holding on very well despite the temptation. Until a particular incident, that is.

As mentioned, I did not feel sexually attracted to anybody, and so I wasn’t particularly good at picking up the kind of sexual signals and tension people sent me. Not until it was too late. That was what happened on the evening of a party I was invited to by a celebrity couple who’d enjoyed my dishes. I was approached by many people, mind you, of all walks of life and sexes. But I didn’t really pay attention to anyone, in fact; I was actually planning on leaving the party early to keep myself in check, going as far as to avoid drinking altogether since years back.

But then he came. A young fella, no older than twenty. Good looking. He introduced himself as an up-and-coming actor and said that he was a big fan of mine. We exchanged phone numbers, and then I left. I didn’t realise just how big of a star this young man was, not until I looked up his name and noticed that he was a rising star in one of the most-watched coming-of-age, high school television series in recent years.

We kept in touch occasionally. I didn’t put any effort into trying to contact him as he wasn’t female and he wasn’t exactly what I liked to taste. Overall, not my type. But at some point, his messages overwhelmed me and would come at the most random of times. Each message started the same way: “Hey, I was wondering if you might be open to making some plans sometime soon?” or some variant of this. I usually ignored those kinds of messages, and honestly, I was slightly disturbed. That was a first for me – to feel disturbed by someone other than myself. And it was this fascination that eventually led me to accept his invites.

Of course, I knew what the guy wanted. I’d seen him give me those stares, the ones I’d given Kayla before I kissed her that night. But it wasn’t that I was sexually intrigued, only curious. The morbid kind of curiosity. I had never killed a male before. It never occurred to me that I could – or would. But lo and behold, as we made out in bed, I got that strange arousal I got with Kayla, and I just knew I had to take this opportunity.

He didn’t look much different from the others beneath the skin, to be honest. My expectations fell short. But he made me realise something about myself and those conflicting feelings of mine: it wasn’t the people themselves who aroused me, it was the fact that I did something I had never done before, something so perfectly disturbed, that it excited me.

I had to test this theory out, of course. So, I resumed my killing spree and used the flesh in my recipes. With each new dish, the sexual arousal was beyond anything I’d ever experienced, and when I received a two-star Michelin review from an acclaimed critic, I reached climax for the first time.

Today, I work as a judge in the newest season of MasterChef. Already past my sixties and my prime yet seeing those youthful faces look up to me and praise my craft triggers something deeply inside me. Had I the time and energy, especially the opportunity, I’d like to taste them and make a new dish out of them. Just imagining it makes me excited. But for now, all I can do is imagine and create the next best dish, imagining what each contestant would taste like in my mind.

I still wear Kayla’s face regularly and dance in the darkest hours of the night. She’s become some sort of comfort to me over the years. Her bra still smells of sweat, so salty yet delicious, that I sometimes scrape some of the fabric to infuse her sweaty breasts into my dishes. Serving it to customers gives me a kick, and once in a while, I reach climax – to her scent – and relive those beautiful moments of our bodies intertwining, her face over mine, her cold corpse against my skin, and me inside her rotting insides.

The Cull - Still the Wheel Turns (Epilogue)

Photo by Nika lukava on Unsplash

I was discharged from the psychiatry ward three weeks after the police found us. In order to reintegrate into society, we promised to keep our silence about the pilot project and the fate that befell a great many.

They had no idea we caught it all on camera. I saved all the records on a USB drive, just in case history repeated itself – as it always does.

Three years later, I found myself standing in front of a classroom as a teacher. Things went back to normal. But not for long.

I thought it was all over. The project, the experiments, and my own part in all this. I was wrong. Deadly wrong.

“Is your anne taking a nap too? Just like mine?”

Ali’s voice broke the silence as I crouched in front of my mother’s grave. He stood behind me, watching as I tenderly ran my fingers through the parched soil, imagining it was her soft skin.

This was my first time visiting the place where she was put to rest. There was a time when I thought I didn’t deserve to see her. I thought she’d hate to see her murderer pay a visit. But Ali encouraged me to break this train of thought.

I glimpsed behind me and smiled. The cool breeze brushed against my face.

“I hope she is. Are you cold?”

Ali shook his head, carefully, and then mustered up the courage to ask me something that took me by surprise.

I stood there, at a loss for words, unable to find the right way to express myself. I could tell he knew I was having a hard time.

I wondered just how long he had been lost in this thought, contemplating this very question, and what had prevented him from voicing it sooner.

“What… happened to her?”

“It’s… it’s a long story. I don’t know where to begin…”

He squeezed my shoulder.

“It’s okay, Elin. You can tell me some other time.”

Standing up, a lopsided smile slowly appeared on my face. I wrapped my arm around him and kissed his head.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I didn’t take Ali under my wing. Instead of pursuing motherhood, I chose to be a solid pillar of support for both Ali and his brother. I wasn’t cut out for that kind of stuff, anyway.

A young couple reached out with open arms to embrace him and his baby sister. I was grateful towards them. Despite me being a stranger, they entrusted their son to my care.

I had the chance to visit them a few times too and see what kind of life Ali led.

The way they looked at the unfortunate siblings told me that he wasn’t just someone they adopted. He had become their flesh and bone. It was the same for Ali.

“Wanna grab a bite before we catch the train?” I asked to change the topic.

“No, I’m good.”

“I’ve got cash, you know,” I said, my voice trailing off as he shook his head. “How about some ice cream, then? You like ice cream.”

He shook his head again, his hair tousling with each movement. Every time I asked if we should eat something, he would do that.

Not that I was short on cash, but my earnings were just enough to make ends meet, and this little fellow seemed to know all about this. Since when did he grow up this much?

As the clock ticked closer to afternoon, we rushed to catch the train before it departed. It would take us a solid two hours to arrive at the capital, and then an additional half-hour bus ride to reach Ali’s two-storey house.

The train was packed with people, leaving little room to manoeuvre. It was a stroke of luck that we came across two empty seats, perfectly positioned to face each other in the aisle.

I plonked down next to an older man in his fifties, while Ali took a seat next to a girl of similar age. The man’s worn leather jacket emitted a faint scent of tobacco.

Since we had a long ride ahead, I plugged in my earphones and let the heavy metal music drown out the noise of the train, lulling me into a peaceful sleep.

I jolted awake roughly forty-five minutes later when the man lightly tapped me to get off the train. I moved to the window seat, taking in the breathtaking view outside, and then waved Ali over.

But he was engrossed in a conversation with the girl, so I drifted back to sleep. Once again, however, something stirred me awake. A loud, jarring noise shattered the silence.

Someone dropped a leather bag on the seat next to me. I looked around me, hoping to catch someone else’s attention, but everyone seemed too absorbed in their own affairs to pay me any mind.

There was no sign of the owner anywhere. I moved past the bag and scanned the aisle, catching snippets of hushed conversations that floated through the air.

Regardless of which direction I looked, there was no one searching for the bag. I eased back into my seat, my gaze locked on the mysterious leather bag, my thoughts racing with a thousand unanswered questions.

After waiting for nearly thirty minutes, I unzipped the bag to look for the owner’s contact information.

The weight of the bag was the first thing that immediately grabbed my attention. It was surprisingly heavy.

While trying to figure out what could be inside, something else caught me by surprise. The pungent smell.

I jumped back and moved away from the bag. There were several black trash bags inside.

Seeing my distorted expression, Ali asked if everything was all right. When his eyes landed on the leather bag, I zipped it up and excused myself.

I secured the WC door and unzipped the bag again. My hand rose to cover my nose from the pungent odour that hit me. The foul odour was one I knew all too well. So why couldn’t I bring myself to open the trash bags and check if I was right?

A chilling sensation ran through my veins, causing my blood to curdle. I drew a deep breath, my heart racing as I cautiously opened one of the trash bags, only to be overcome by a grotesque scene.

I moved away, my eyes shifting rapidly, consumed by a sense of terror. Every inch of my body shook and my mind became flooded with despairing thoughts.

Inside the black bag was a decapitated, boiled head. Its features were distorted and unrecognisable, but something told me I knew who it was.

With my thoughts scattered all over the place, I mustered the courage to reach inside the bag and place the boiled head in the sink.

 Rummaging through the black plastic bag, I found a blood-stained letter hidden inside it. My name was written on it.

The bag hadn’t been dropped by accident.

I read the letter, absorbing every word as I went through it. My hands were shaking like there was no tomorrow.

Images of the double-decker bus, the three men, and the carnage flooded my mind. The air felt heavy and thick, making it hard for me to take a full breath as my throat tightened.

My chest rose and fell with each laboured breath. My face lost colour as the tears I thought were long gone threatened to spill.

To Elin,

State Library, 1999. The Cryonics Lab.

Let’s finish what we started.

Sincerely, Mark.

The Cull - The Dawn of the Damned

Photo by aboodi vesakaran on Unsplash

As my eyes cleared, I noticed I was back in the cave. How did I manage to come back here? My last memory was a jumbled mess, like a puzzle with missing pieces. I couldn’t remember anything.

To make matters worse, my head throbbed with excruciating pain. How long had I gone without water? I shook my head vigorously, trying to clear the fog that clouded my thoughts.

Then I heard a chorus of voices breaking the silence and I sat upright. The others were huddled in one corner, their voices rising in a heated debate that filled the cave with tension.

Noor was among them. I heaved a sigh of relief as soon as I spotted her. She had made it. A weight lifted off my shoulder.

As I groaned and stumbled to my feet, I approached the others, panic rising in my chest the second I noticed the infant was missing.

The words escaped from my parched lips, slipping away like fleeting whispers in the wind, before I could hinder them. The survivors fell into silence, their eyes wide with fear, as they turned to face me.

But I was too preoccupied by what had happened to the infant to notice this at first. The old woman was the first to brush past me and return to her little corner, followed by Niclas, so that only me, Noor and her dad were the only ones standing up.

“Where is it?” I asked, frantic. “The baby.”

“Don’t worry. Yudes is taking care of it.” Noor said, pointing to the corner.

My frantic gaze scanned the cave until it settled on the old woman, clutching something concealed under a blood-stained fabric. Ali sat right beside her and was sound asleep.

“I found some milk powder while I was looking for you. It’ll keep it alive for now I guess. But it needs breastmilk and a warm place to stay.”

“I know,” I said, my voice trailing off as the pain in my head reached another height. “I know. I-I’ll figure something out.”

“Elin,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I shifted my focus from my feet to her eyes laced with concern as she continued. “Don’t you have something to tell us?”

“What do you mean?”

She paused for a brief moment before posing another question. I could tell by the way her eyes kept flickering that she was nervous.

“I saw you. You were talking to one of them. I followed you back to the vehicle when you split up. Then you passed out.

“You followed me?”

“Why did he let you go? Elin? Elin, please…”

I scratched the back of my head. Were they literally thinking I was cooperating with those bastards or something? Then again, it did seem like that from the outside, didn’t it?

“Listen, there’s a misunderstanding—”

“You confess you talk them?”

“Not quite like that, Omar. I just… He talked to me. It’s not what you’re thinking. There’s something I can’t tell you, some kind of connection between me and this-this messed-up project, okay?

“But that’s not what matters right now. He told me there was a rat among us, okay? We need to find out who it is and—”

“How can we trust you?” Noor said, adding. “And what’s the connection between you and this project? Elin? You gotta tell us!”

“I-I can’t, all right? You’ll just have to trust me on this one! If we don’t act now—”

“Let’s pretend you’re right. Okay? Let’s just do that for a sec. But why would that murderer tell you something like this, then? Knowing he’ll put one of his own in danger.”

“He…or the person who’s responsible for putting us through this hell knows me. That’s what he said, okay? He was instructed to keep me safe. I- I don’t know why. Don’t look at me like that, Noor! I wouldn’t risk my life if I were one of them, would I?”

“How he know you?” Omar said.

“I’m-I’m not sure. I have an idea but that’s not what’s important right now. We need to find out which one of us is lying.”

“What about the bag?” Noor asked. “Did you find it?”

“I did, sort of. There were no weapons in it though, just gasoline to dispose of the bodies.”

“Dispose of the bodies? Why? Or rather, why now?” Noor said, adding. “You said some of the cadavers were at least a few weeks old. They didn’t dispose of them before, so why now?”

 “I think something didn’t go according to their plan.” I took a deliberate pause, making sure to look at them both in order. “I think the police are on their way.”

“A-are you sure? Elin? Are you—”

“I think so. I’m not sure but… it sounded like that to me. Just don’t say anything to the others for now.”

“Why no?” Omar said.

“We don’t know who the rat is. If that person finds out about the police, they might do something reckless.”

“So what do we do now, just wait or what? What if you’re wrong and the police never come?”

“I’ll go look for something we can use to defend ourselves with – just in case. I think they’re hiding weapons somewhere in the forest. I’ll see if I can find something to eat, too. If we’re lucky—”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, stay here. Keep these people safe. We don’t know who the rat is yet, Noor. You’re the only person I can trust. Please…”

She nodded, albeit reluctant. “Then stay safe. No matter what. Do you hear me? Don’t do anything stupid and risk your life! We need you here.”

I didn’t reply. I wasn’t going to keep a promise I couldn’t keep. I was already dead on the inside. I was more comfortable with the idea of putting my life at risk than with the alternative.

When I returned to the double-decker bus, I noticed that everything inside the baggage compartment had been emptied this time.

Someone had gone to great lengths to ensure that we would be defenceless, leaving nothing for us to find.

As I nibbled on my dry lips, contemplating my next move, I turned around and gazed up at the looming bus.

It was rocking. Before I could react and make a break for it, the lawyer guy stepped out. The gun he held was steady, its barrel aimed directly at me. How did he know I would come here?

Conrad followed closely behind him, a sinister grin stretched across his face like the wicked thing he was. A living human animal, the first of its kind.

“I think we should start by gouging her eyes out and then shoot her. What’d you think Henrik?”

Conrad approached with outstretched hands. His eyes were wild with delirium. I clutched to the bus, feeling the rough texture of the metal against my fingers as I backed away.

The other guy seized his arm just inches from getting to me. “We don’t have time for that, you dickhead.”

“Come on, dude! You’re seriously gonna let her off that easily? Seriously, after everything we did, after all the fun we had, you’re just gonna shoot her?”

“All right. I’ll give you thirty seconds. But if you fail, we’ll do it my way. You got it?”

So, this was the fate that awaited me? A smirk spread across my face as I envisioned the macabre scene of my eyeless, hollow sockets and rigid corpse consumed by the roaring flames of the bonfire along with the rest of the passengers.

What a glorious end it would be to become a macabre toy in the hands of those, who deserved death more than any other species.

At that very moment, just as Conrad forced my eyes wide open, a surge of greed washed over me. I wanted to know why we were brought to this place and why we were subjected to such merciless treatment.

“Why are you doing this to us?”

Conrad broke off. His grin faded, perhaps annoyed, as if I had interrupted his playtime – his only means of entertainment.

But Henrik didn’t seem bothered by my question; instead, a faint smile appeared on his face as if he found my question entertaining.

“‘Cause you’re part of a project granted by the government. But we already told you that…”

“What government would kill its own people?”

“We don’t go after regular folks who pay their taxes. We’re after people like you who are just a burden to everyone else – people like you who are wasting our resources.”

Burden? It took me a while, but I eventually understood the intention behind his words. It was evident that most of the passengers were devoid of any life goals, their futures uncertain and undefined.

They were forever shunned by the society they lived in, their differences bringing upon condemnation. He was right, we were burdens, a constant source of frustration and resentment to the rest of society.

But we didn’t choose this path for ourselves – this world, this inhospitable planet filled with avarice, starvation, and malevolence caused our demise.

I couldn’t suppress the smirk that crept onto my lips upon hearing this.

“How do you plan on using those resources, then?” I already knew the answer. I was the one who came up with the project.

“It’s gonna be a whole new world after this and you people are the key to this big change.”

“Big change, huh? Sure, if that’s what you want to call this massacre.”

Henrik stepped closer. A wide grin stretched across his face, revealing the excitement brewing in his disturbed mind.

I knew what he was going to say even before he said it. Still, it took me a few seconds to process everything and come to terms with the reality I was now confronting.

 “Do you believe in cryonics, miss?”

A chilling sensation ran through my veins. This word was not unfamiliar to me. Of course, it was not. This place, the double-decker bus, the mayhem, the damn project…

They were all part of the research paper I wrote when I still had my whole life ahead of me. This carnage was my creation. But I never finished it.

Blood splashed onto my clothes, leaving behind a vivid crimson stain. Gasping, I looked up. The dirk knife stuck out right between the lawyer’s forehead, who, still conscious, lost his grip on the gun.

As he turned around to see his murderer, he collapsed sideways, his limbs splayed out in an awkward position. Despite being frozen in one spot, I saw my chance and acted swiftly, leaping forwards to pick up the dagger and plunging it right into the back of Conrad’s skull as he looked in the direction of the ominous forest.

When he fell to his death, I locked eyes with the one who threw the dagger and saved my wretched existence. He really went all out to make sure I stayed alive, huh?

Taking my chance, I snatched the gun and made a break for it, swearing under my breath as I wiped off the blood on my face with the back of my arm.

As I made it back to the cave, panting still and out of it, Noor and the others were yet again huddled together in one corner. I was about to break the news that two of the guys had been killed when Noor cut me off.

I could see a glint of doubt and suspicion in her gazelle eyes. Her voice carried a bitter tone as she accused me.

“You’re the one! You’re really—”

“What…? What’re you going on about? Look, I-I got this gun from one of the—”

“I saw you, Elin!”

“Saw what?”

“He helped you! That-that guy, he helped you!”

“Look, I already told you that there’s a connection between this programme and me! I can’t tell you what it is, okay? Just know that—I’m not what you think I am…”

I stopped mid-sentence as she made a face at me. I frowned, not sure what she was trying to do at first, but then it all dawned on me.

I glanced at Omar without really knowing why and he returned my gaze with a confirming nod. What was going on? It didn’t take me long to figure it out, though.

I scanned the hideout until my eyes landed on the old woman, who now stood upright and was ready to apprehend me. Now that I took a second to study her, she wasn’t as old as I thought she was all along.

Sure, she was at least in her mid-seventies, but not more than that. Wait… It was her? But how did Noor and her dad figure it out? In any case, this was for the better. The sooner we got rid of the mole, the better our chances of survival were.

I decided to play along.

“I’m really not lying. You gotta trust me.”

“You hide something in hand. I no lie. Allah big. Allah see me, how should I lie?”

Oh, that was it. They must’ve seen something under the quilt. A gun? Maybe a knife? But I couldn’t act recklessly. Both Ali and the infant were too close to her.

I took a deliberate step closer to Yudes without taking my eyes off Ali, whose desperate eyes told me he was the one who discovered the mole.

Without completely letting go of the dagger, I shifted my focus to the woman. Our eyes met. That was when Omar shouted something unintelligible but I could tell that he wanted me to take action.

I lunged forwards and felt the impact as the woman shoved me to the wall and tore my cheek open. A knife, it was…

As she went for Ali and the infant, I leapt forwards and shielded them both with my bare hands. The blade cut through my palms and fingers as I held her back just enough for Noor to carry the infant away.

Distracted momentarily by Niclas’s cries, Yudes pushed me against the wall. I shut my eyes, grimacing, as I waited for the fatal strike. Why was she so strong? But it never came.

When I regained back my senses, Omar was stooping over me, shouting at me, but I couldn’t hear what it was until a few seconds later. My mind was a hazy mess.

That’s when I realised what had happened. She took Ali. That darned piece of shit! I rose to my feet and stormed out of the cave and sprinted towards the vehicle down the slope.

I ran with all my might.

Although I was as unfeeling as a stone and as cold as ice, the thought of a little kid dying an unjust death was unbearable to me.

I promised his mum I would keep him safe, and I was determined to fulfil that promise. I had to.

I caught up with her. The distance between us grew shorter with each step until we reached the double-decker bus, where her accomplices were surrounded by a swarm of flies already and rotting. But she didn’t know that.

She came to a sudden halt and turned to face me, positioned on the opposite side of the bus, by the slope, and remained oblivious to the fact that her accomplishes had already met their demise.

She sneered at me, her upper lip curling upwards in a wolfish grin.

“Oh, we’re so gonna wipe you all out! You can bet on that, you little shit! None of you will make it out of here alive, do you hear me!? Human animals like you don’t deserve to live!”

“Ali’s just a kid. The only animal here is you!”

“He’s a Muslim terrorist! He’s going to murder us all! I have to get rid of him!” In a disturbed combination of laughter and delirium, she shouted at the top of her lungs. “He’s going to chop off the heads of forty babies! Forty babies! Forty babies! Forty babies!”

I stared at the poor kid upon hearing this. He trembled. A sharp pang of pain surged through my chest. I looked away. Although he couldn’t decipher her words at such an age, I could tell that he could feel the waves of hatred reverberating from her voice.

The thought of living in a world where the oppressors had control over the oppressed sickened me. If that wasn’t the portrayal of a heartless creature, what else could it be? Spreading lies and twisting the truth with such indifference, with such arrogance!

Forty babies, huh? What a bunch of derailed fuckers. Even a child could come up with a more plausible lie.

“He’s just a kid, whether you see him as one or not. He wasn’t born to be a terrorist, he was born to die at the hands of those who oppressed him!”

She grinned, her wicked eyes growing wider and more sinister.

“You know why I took this job?”

“Because you regretted not murdering more Arabs in order to take over their country for good? The illegal settlement wasn’t enough?”

“It’s not theirs! It was given to us! Yahwe chose my people to rule this land so the Messiah can come! We’re above these human animals!”

“Ah, the Messiah thing, huh?” I said. “So convenient to use religion as a shield, right?”

“That’s what Yahwe wants! We’re the chosen people! We’re above law and reason!”

“Sure. Whatever you say. But that doesn’t mean you can just go around and kill people or distort the truth to get what you want. I’m sure your Messiah would agree with me.”

“You don’t know anything about my people!” she said. “You think I don’t know who you are!? You’re the one who started all of this!”

“I didn’t start anything. You pieces of shit did! Just like you always do by distorting the truth in your own fucking favour!”

“This project was all you, Elin!” With a maniacal expression on her face, she surveyed the surrounding bloodshed and laughed. “Look! You’re just as guilty! You have blood on your hands, too!”

I observed her until she stopped laughing her head off. She was right. I had blood on my hands. I should’ve seen this coming when I first sat down to write that paper. But I didn’t.

I never considered that something I discarded would come back to haunt me. Then again, looking back, there was no way I could have predicted this outcome.

Someone finished my paper. Was it the person who so desperately wanted me to stay alive? Maybe it was. I would probably never know. I was going to die here.

But first, I had to save Ali. He wasn’t a terrorist. He wasn’t a human shield. He wasn’t a human animal. He… he was a child. Just a child.

“They’re all dead,” I began, pausing to see her reaction. “And the police are on their way.”

“The government is on our side! The world is on our side! There’s nothing you human animals can do!”

“This place, what you’ve done to us… It’s all over social media as we speak.” It wasn’t entirely false. We captured every moment on film, but we did not have the opportunity to share it with the world yet. “Even with the heavens on your side, you can’t hide the truth. It’s over. Let the kid go.”

“You think I’d fall for that?”

“Call your accomplishes and see for yourself, then.”

She had Ali in a chokehold as she reached for her phone. As the ringing reverberated from the other side of the bus, she made her way around, never taking her eyes off me.

Seeing them there, lifeless and bathed in their own blood, her eyes grew wide. The confusion etched on her hardened face was easy to read. I could almost hear her thoughts: ‘How in the world did you pull this off?’

“This is your last chance. Let the kid go or rot in prison.”

The faint croak of sirens soon reverberated in the vicinity, announcing that help had come at last. I thought it wouldn’t come. As the noise grew louder, I briefly glanced behind me, trying not to show my surprise.

Yudes released her grip on the kid and made a break for it. However, my heart couldn’t find any reason to celebrate as Ali leapt into my secure arms. He clung to me, his grip so tight that I could feel his fingers digging into my skin as he wept uncontrollably.

Peering into the dense forest ahead, a shiver ran down my spine, fully aware of the lurking presence of the man in the white shirt there.

I smirked. Why was it that, whenever I made up my mind to end my life, fate found a way to keep me alive? What a joke…

The last thing I anticipated was the arrival of the police. I thought I could deceive the woman, put Ali in Noor’s care and then off myself with the gun the lawyer left behind.

Worst-case scenario, I was going to use the bullets on that piece of shit and save one for myself. But she ran away like the coward she was. Fucking human animal.

When the police brought us to safety, they searched high and low, but Amina was nowhere to be found. I scoured every corner, but it was as if she had vanished without a trace.

In the ambulance, when I asked Noor about Amina, she told me something that left me in disbelief. Amina was never there. She was a mere creation of my thoughts and existed solely in my mind – a mirror image of my former self.

I created her as an escape from reality. The death of my mother was too difficult for me to cope with, so I created her as a comfort to my unsound and deteriorating mind.

The Cull - A Mother’s Dua, A Daughter’s Sin

Photo by fitra zulfy on Unsplash

“How work today? Yemek yedin mi?”

I was helping my crippled mother when she asked me if I had eaten at work. I couldn’t help but feel a heightened sense of wariness towards her, which she must have noticed as I peeked at her with a half-hearted smile.

She had laid on her own stool for an entire day, singed and humiliated, yet she still worried about me.

Feeling a deep sense of shame, I lowered my gaze and instinctively reached out for my punctured arm.

“Just another day. Her zamanki gibi.”

I carefully placed her diaper into a black plastic bag, intending to dispose of it with the rest of the trash after dinner.

Although she clearly wanted to inquire further, she stayed silent as I helped her put on her underpants.

Her sombre eyes followed me wherever I went as if trying to uncover my thoughts. I wiped away a tear, its saltiness lingering on my fingertips, as I was about to go to the kitchen.

“You must be starving, anne.”

She grabbed my hand, refusing to release it until I mustered up the courage to meet her gaze.

Her hair, once brown, now mirrored the colour of the snow outside. The passage of time had etched lines and wrinkles onto her once-youthful face. Her lively spirit had lost its spark, leaving behind a sense of defeat and exhaustion.

She was a mere shadow of her former self, a hollow imitation of the woman I once called anne.

“Remember, Allah is bigger than your worries. Always. Unutma kızım.”

I hesitated, feeling a knot in my throat. I dropped my eyes to the floorboards, averting her piercing gaze. I wanted to agree with her, to reassure her I already knew. But the words stuck in my throat.

I gently pushed her hand away, feeling the slight tremor in her fingers, and shambled to the kitchen.

After preparing her favourite soup, mercimek çorbası, I added two 300 mg Gabapentin pills and stirred it in.

My GP prescribed it for my sleeping disorder but I seldom took it. I wanted to be alert at all times, even while in a deep sleep in order to take care of my bedridden mum.

I took a deep breath and arranged everything neatly on a tray before returning to the living room. The authorities turned off the heat a month ago, so the entire place felt chilly.

I placed the tray on the table, the clinking of glasses echoing through the room. Before settling on a three-legged stool, I covered my mum with another layer of quilt.

As I held the spoon to her bluish lips, I noticed a flicker of hesitation in her guarded expression.

She knew, I thought, so why did she take a sip of the soup? As I felt a pang of ache in the depths of my heart, my breathing became laboured and I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze.

The touch of her fingers against my cheeks carried a weight of acceptance as if she had resigned herself to the idea of her life coming to an end by my hands.

I didn’t have to say anything. She knew that neither of us would live to see the daylight tonight.

I brushed her hand aside and stood upright. At that moment, the weight of my actions hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her.

I fixed my gaze on the only window in our living room, watching my reflection twist and contort with anguish.

What had become of the person I once was? The reflection in the mirror seemed foreign and unfamiliar. My pale complexion, sunken eyes, hollow cheekbones, and stoic expression painted a picture of exhaustion.

I felt like a walking corpse, devoid of any semblance of life and devoid of emotions. I mused over the idea of having been human at some point in my existence.

How ironic, wasn’t it? Once a promising student with a great future ahead of her…

When my mum finally slept, I could hear the soft rhythm of her slowing breath and was lost in my own thoughts. Minutes turned into hours as I stood there, gazing blankly through the window.

The shimmering moon beckoned me to hurry, the twinkling stars pleaded with me to stop.

I shut my eyes. Tears streamed down my face. I turned around and opened my eyes, wiping away the never-ending tears.

I retrieved the stolen syringes and carefully rolled up her sleeve. With every gentle push of the syringe, I marvelled at how peaceful her face appeared.

Then I waited. I gently caressed and kissed her delicate hands, feeling the warmth slowly dissipate until they turned cold. I witnessed her soul depart from her body, leaving only an empty vessel behind.

But I didn’t cry. I didn’t have the right to shed tears for her, not when I was the one who had robbed her of life.

Only three syringes remained. I rolled up my sleeve and inserted one cannula into my arm, followed shortly by the other two. Only then did the tears return.

My cries shattered the tranquillity, reverberating like the desperate cries of a troubled child. I sobbed until there was nothing left but a deep, exhausted sigh. As I emptied the last syringe, my vision blurred and darkness consumed me.

The door swung open, and a voice screaming my name was the last thing I remembered before losing consciousness. The familiar face made me recall something I had long forgotten.

It was my birthday.

This was where my memories ended, like a broken film reel. I bore the guilt of my mum’s untimely demise. I tried to take my own life but fate had other plans.

Like the snowflakes, she melted away, while I stayed, alive despite everything. That day, I should’ve met the same fate and faced the consequences of my sins. But I didn’t.

Day after day, the same question plagued my mind: why? Why did I live? Why me?

I opened my eyes…

The Cull - The Past Intertwined

Photo by Sven Brandsma on Unsplash

Noor and I left the others behind and made our way back to the double-decker bus after half an hour. The bus stood in solitude, undisturbed by any wandering souls, which meant the three guys were still in the nearby forest.

We picked up the pace, our footsteps echoing through the silence of the dark forest until we decided to split up. Noor went right, disappearing into the shadows, while I ventured left.

I marked an x on the trunk of an oak tree with the dirk knife. An hour. We decided to meet in front of the oak tree in an hour.

It was a few minutes after our separation that I picked up on a peculiar and repugnant smell in the air, which left me unsettled.

I broke off and looked around myself, trying hard to pinpoint the source of the repulsive smell, when a clamour erupted to my left. I cowered behind a towering tree, the rough bark scratching against my back, and finally located the source of the putrid stench.

From behind some bushes, amidst a heap of burning cadavers turning to ash, came a haunting din. It was only then that I noticed a decrease in the number of corpses strewn across the hard ground.

So, this was what he meant, I reasoned, when he said they should finish what they started. It all made sense now. The plan was to set fire to the bodies and eradicate any evidence that could indicate foul play.

This confirmed to me that either help was on the way or that their plans hit a snag – otherwise, they wouldn’t be in such a rush to dispose of the bodies.

The bag I saw didn’t contain weapons; instead, it was filled with containers of gasoline. They had meticulously prepared all this in advance, leaving no room for unexpected mishaps.

I watched the cadavers burn, their charred remains crumbling and vanishing with each gust of wind. My misty eyes took in the heap of destruction before moving to the three murderers, who wore wide grins as they watched the morbid spectacle.

Although I had never subscribed to the notion of good and evil, God and Satan, I couldn’t deny that these three men were the embodiment of pure evil.

Startled, my eyes widened in surprise before I instinctively lowered my head. The guy in the white shirt, the one who punched Conrad, turned his head and locked eyes with me.

It happened so abruptly that it took me a while to register what had actually occurred. It dawned on me that he had been observing me all along, silently, long before our eyes actually met.

I sprinted with all my might. My heart raced in my chest, the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I sprinted towards the empty vehicle.

But I couldn’t just abandon Noor, not when I had given my word to Omar that I would keep her safe. I stopped short and found a hiding spot behind some wilted thicket of bushes near the towering oak tree we promised to meet at.

I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of my escape lift off my shoulders as I realised no one had followed me. But it was short-lived.

Time flew by, and before I knew it, minutes turned into hours. There was no sign of Noor as if she had been swallowed up by the void, leaving no trace behind.

Panic surged through me, making my palms grow clammy with sweat. They couldn’t have found Noor, could they?

She went the other way and shouldn’t have run into anyone. But what if I was mistaken? They could’ve called for backup once they found out we called the police…

While I was contemplating what to do, a voice emerged from out of nowhere, causing my blood to curdle and my mind to go blank.

I raised my eyes and flinched. Stooping over the wilted bushes, the man in the white shirt observed me. I almost let out a scream.

“Looking for someone?”

His smile, with his lips curved into a grin, sent shivers down my spine. I rose to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest as I cautiously looked over my shoulder.

With each stride I made, he mirrored my movements, taking twice as many steps. I tightened my grip on the dirk knife, feeling the weight of it in my hand, ready to strike.

The guy halted in his steps as he noticed the dagger and maintained a safe distance from me. I directed it at him not long after, my heart pounding in my chest as I kept moving backwards, constantly checking behind me.

“Back off! I said, back off!”

“Put that thing down and let’s talk.” His voice was guttural, deeper than I thought it would be due to his soft features. “Don’t you want to see her?”

“W-what?”

“I helped her give birth and took her somewhere safe. The others don’t know. I can bring you to her.”

I frowned. Ali’s mum? Why? Why on earth would he do something like that? Didn’t these people bring us here to off us?

Something… something was off about this guy. Moreover, how did he know about the connection between me and her?

“How do you know? That I was looking for her.”

“I was returning to the bus when I saw you run off with the kid. I figured she’d convinced you to take him with you.”

“You left her there on purpose? Why?”

He took his time replying.

“Let’s just say it’s an occupational hazard and keep it at that. What about you? Why’d you let her talk you into it? Someone like you…”

“Someone like me?” I repeated. “Do I know you?”

“Just answer the question. Do you want to see her or not? If it’s the latter, then—”

“The infant. What happened to it?”

“It’s with her,” he said, adding nimbly upon seeing the doubt in my eyes. “I’m not lying. You don’t trust me?”

“Yeah, I think you’re full of it.”

He laughed, bemused from the look of it by the way I worded this sentence.

“Well, you’ll know for sure if you come with me – whether or not I’m lying.”

“Who the hell are you people, anyway? Why are you doing this to us?”

“We’re just doing what we are told. We’re all part of a pilot project overseen by the government.”

 “A project that’s meant to kill innocent people? Is that what you’re saying?”

“It’s for the greater good. Those people were gonna die, regardless. We just sped up things. Come on! You know that’s the truth! Those people don’t add anything to society, do they? They’re just burdens – all of them.”

“I don’t see the good in killing children.”

I couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling as a knowing smile slowly spread across his face. He remained silent, not uttering a single word in response.

Then, like a sudden bolt of lightning, another realisation dawned on me. This guy knew me. I didn’t know him, I was sure, but he knew me. That was why he was smiling like this right now.

I dropped my head with a smirk. That bastard knew me, huh? How convenient.

“Take me to her,” I said as I looked up again, waving the dagger. “But only if I bring this along.”

“Sure. Follow me.”

His flickering eyes betrayed his distress as we ventured deeper into the forest. I tightened my grip around the shaft, feeling the rough texture against my palm, as I scanned the area for any sudden movements.

He was hiding something under his shirt. From what I could make out, it looked like a handgun.

If only I could overpower him and seize whatever he was hiding, perhaps we could level the playing field against these bastards.

He came to a standstill and turned around. Not even a single muscle on his face twitched.

I tightened my grip around the shaft, ready to strike whatever stood in my path, when he finally broke the silence.

“We’re here.”

I frowned. My grip on the dagger loosened as I looked around and spotted a carefully arranged bed of leaves to the right. My mind went blank with horror as the shrill cry of an infant pierced the air not long after.

I rushed to the bed of leaves and I picked up the bloody thing. It shivered from the frigid weather and had turned purple.

As I stood up with the infant clutched tightly in my embrace, the cold tip of the dagger pressed against the nape of my neck.

That was when I noticed that I had let go of it amidst the chaos. I didn’t turn around to face him.

“Where’s she? The woman.”

“She didn’t make it.”

“You lied,” I said as I cradled the infant against my chest, feeling its tiny heartbeat, to keep it warm. “You fucking bastard.”

“You’re not like what they told me.”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye as he said this. Who the hell were ‘they’?

“People change.”

“Not you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll know when the time’s right.”

“Who the fuck are you? I don’t know you. But it sounds like you do.”

“You weren’t supposed to be here. You know that, right? If I hadn’t noticed it was you, you’d probably be dead by now. I saved you.”

I looked away, smirking. “Is that so? Should I thank you or what? Just cut to the fucking chase and tell me what’s going on.”

He shifted his focus to the infant.

“It’s just a matter of time before that thing bites the dust. Why not save your questions for later?”

Deep down, I knew he was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it. Its body temperature dropped significantly and showed no signs of warming up.

I tucked it snugly under my gown, feeling its tiny body against my chest. I didn’t do this out of kindness, but rather out of necessity.

I may have made mistakes in the past – mistakes that would never be forgiven – but I was not a bad person, not innately at least.

“So what do you suggest?”

“Stay here until sunrise. That’s how you’ll stay alive. That thing too.”

“There are people out there who need me. I can’t just stay here and save my own skin, can I?”

“I can’t let you leave…”

“Why’s that? Come on. Don’t I at least deserve to know why?”

“Because the person responsible for this project tells me to. Is that enough for you?”

I rubbed my hardened face, frustration building up in every fibre of my body.

“And who’s that, huh? The person responsible for this sick project?”

“Someone you know very well.”

“Oh, someone I know? Of course, it is…” I paused, trying to choose my words right. “What’s that bastard’s name, then?”

“Why don’t you try and figure it out for yourself?”

“Is this some fucking joke?” I said, no longer able to hide the anger in my voice. “Huh? Is it fun? Killing a bunch of helpless people just for the kick?” I dropped my head, the thoughts racing through my disoriented mind. “Just like how you did back in October 2023? You fucking pieces of shits!”

“I know this is hard to accept right now. But I need you to stay calm and keep your voice down, okay?”

“Why… why are you doing this?”

“I told you. I’m just following orders.”

“Not that. You said you saved my life. Why? Because that person, the one responsible for this death sentence, told you?”

“Yeah, more or less. He didn’t know you’d be here. How did you end up like this?”

“How did I end up like this?” I repeated for myself. “I don’t know, I…” I paused as a realisation hit me. “He? It’s a guy.” I averted my gaze. “A… guy?”

“He tells me you know each other very well.”

“He tells you? How funny. It’s almost like you’re…” I bore my eyes into the guy’s blue eyes as a thought crossed my mind. “You’re… not human?”

A knowing smile played on his lips. “That should be the least of your concerns right now. Those people you risked your life for? You can’t save them.”

“What? Why not?”

“One of us is with them as we speak. Our customers don’t like it when things are too easy, you see. It’s all part of the project, although a live audience wasn’t exactly part of the original plan. But you already know that.”

“Who is it? The rat—”

“I can’t tell you that—hey, where you going? Hey! I told you! You can’t save them! It’s over! Do you hear me? It’s over!”

“Shut it and mind your own business! And tell that person he can fuck off too! Whoever he is!”

I brushed past him without a second thought, knowing very well that he couldn’t hurt me. The only thought in my mind was to return to the cave and tell the others about the rat among us. The only problem was that I didn’t know who it was.

It could be anyone, really. But who? I hadn’t seen Amina ever since I returned from the watchtower, Noor risked her life to help me get there, and none of the other survivors had done anything remotely suspicious that would expose their betrayal.

Moreover, I didn’t know whether Noor made it back to the hideout or got caught in the forest and was set on fire. How was I going to face Omar if I showed up all by myself?

As I was having these thoughts, I finally made it back to the double-decker bus. The number of cadavers was almost half now and the stench of singed flesh hung heavy in the air.

I put the sleeping infant at the top of the slope and climbed up myself shortly after. When I looked over my shoulder right before venturing deeper into the forested vicinity, I locked eyes with the guy in the white shirt.

I couldn’t tell if he was a friend or foe. But if he was really telling the truth, it meant the others were in danger. I had to expose the mole and alert the others. But how? Who could I trust?

As if these questions weren’t taking their toll on me already, my mind played yet another trick on me, taking me back in time.

I broke off.

The hungry infant bellowed, eagerly sucking at my chest. Gasping for air, I collapsed onto the hard ground, the image of my mother’s distorted face haunted me.

I attempted to stand up, but my legs buckled beneath me.

And the forest faded away…