TONIA'S DAY _ FLASH STORY 4

She had been lying naked on a bed in a hotel room for eight hours running. The last man was merciless. He was much too big for her. So she passed out. Outside the door of the hotel room, two girls, each about twelve years old, lay spread-eagled on the corridor. Across the face of one of them was a horrifying gash that ran from ear to ear, cutting open her jaws. She lay face up. Her eyes, though glazed, seemed to have in them an angry stare. And her breasts stood like two exposed pyramids. Her pool of blood had already congealed. The other girl lay face down. A trace of blood had trickled down her parted legs and glided across the passage. Both girls were also naked. They were about a year older than the one inside. Their clothes lay in a pile at the far end of the corridor. A man in army-green uniform stood with a gun at that far end too. In place of a helmet or beret, he had a mottled bandanna barely covering his clean-shaven scalp. He was chewing gum. Rebel soldiers had taken over the capital town where the hotel stood. But he seemed indifferent. There had been such rumours lately and they had been proved false repeatedly. After a fierce border fight with the rebels early that morning, there had been no radio contact with the rest of his A-for-Action Company that was assigned to safeguard the vast presidential hotel. So he was just there, waiting for the man inside to come out so that he would go in. He stared at the nude figures on the floor and, though they were dead, his manhood stirred. These rebel girls are extremely beautiful, even as dead captives, thought the necrophile, not minding the gash on the face of one of them. At last the door opened and out stepped the latest rapist, smiling. The men hailed themselves and laughed as they made way for each other.

No sooner had the man of bandanna gone in than the other man fell down, convulsing. A new man was standing in the passageway, holding a silencer-fitted gun. He was wearing a foliage-festooned helmet and an army uniform with different shades of brown. Soon, the convulsing man lay still. A pool of blood had quickly formed underneath his ruffled uniform. The man with the silencer passed over him and looked at the two dead girls. He cursed under his breath. Then he broke open the door but met with a burst of gunfire. He was ready; for he had quickly ducked under gun range as he was about breaking in. Before his assailant could redirect his assault, the rebel soldier had already fired two bullets through the assailant’s army boots into his legs. The other man yelled, reaching for the girl on the bed for cover. He pointed his gun to her left temple.

“If you move, I will shoot her!” he shouted painfully.

The rebel soldier would not want it so, though he was not sure if she was still alive. He pointed his gun at him for a few seconds, standing up as he did so. Then he lowered the gun resignedly. That girl was his platoon leader’s sister and the other two outside were her friends.   

“Drop your weapon!” His opponent shouted again.

The man of brown uniform obeyed. Then he said, “We fight for light and not darkness. You shall be consumed.”

Unfortunately, a bullet from the other man’s gun pierced into his heart….

Just then the girl came to. The bandanna man pushed her onto the bed, still looking to have fun. His pains did not stop him. Hardly had he unzipped his trousers when a platoon of soldiers burst into the room. His body was riddled with bullets from a pump-action gun.  

“Tonia” The last shooter said.

“Brother Raymond.” The girl answered weakly, bushed by it all.

“You are safe now,” Raymond said as anger welled up inside him. He looked at his advance man on the floor. Tonia drew an unstained blanket onto her as Raymond fired another bullet into the enemy, “The battle is over.”

(C) Jeff Unaegbu, May 22, 2011.