See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil
Rio De Janeiro, Brazil
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The moon seemed to pulsate with a minacious aura, yet managed to retain its lustrous lineament as the forest ground was incandesced and thus lent an eerie ambiance. The forest had become peculiarly silent as all life form had ceased all activities. But crouched low and peering through the thick vegetation, was a frightened lad who could glimpse the fleeting motility of the dark shadows in the clearing. He couldn’t tell what they were, only that they had an ominous appetite for blood, possessed blood red eyes, razor sharp claws and a foul lingering fetor that oozed out of their obscure form.
Suddenly, the movements of the dark creatures ceased. Desperately willing his pounding heart to be silent, he watched as they paused in their steps, examined the sky before they all turned and focused their horrible red eyes on his position. His heart literally stopped beating for he was certain that his end was nigh. But to his greatest shock, they slowly withdrew into the trees and disappeared. He needed no further incitement as he shot out from where he’d been hiding and made for the bushy trail that would take him back to the carnival ground. He kept on running, not once daring to look behind, not even when the sound of chasing feet and rustling bushes, ruled the canvas of ghoulish imaginations inside his head.
He was convinced that they were giving chase. He was certain that they would catch up with him because their limbs were longer, stretching farther and covered double the distance his legs covered in one stride. Also, their reddish eyes which glowed like the pits of hell would definitely see better in this black chasm that ruled the night. He promised that if he survived, he would never disobey his mother again. He would even follow her to service every Sunday and sit with her in the front pew. Heck, he would even agree to marry the buck-toothed Maria Da’ Silva to sweeten the deal.
What he never considered as the chronological succession of event which led to his nightmarish experience replayed in his head, was that it was the time which struck midnight, therefore bringing forth a new day and thus an end to the creatures pagan ceremony, that had saved his life.
*************
Earlier in the evening
All Jose Barbosa thought about as he hurriedly fed the chickens was the Christmas carnival he was going to attend later. He was ashamed to admit that he’d never attended one before. His mother was a devoted and good woman who was overly protective of him and irrational about certain things she forbids, like the Christmas carnival for instance. She claimed that grave transgressions occurred during the festivals that were unforgivable and would forever doom one’s soul. She also claimed that the youths in the town used it to perform immoral acts that no God fearing child should ever indulge in.
She had a point there because all his friends had lost their virginity on this Christmas carnivals. Amongst his peers, he was the only virgin and they never let him forget it, especially his best friend Lucio Azevedo whose father, like Jose’s mother, was a devout Christian. Also, Lucio’s father had taken a liking to his mother and it seemed like they would get married, a fact he and Lucio seemed indifferent about.
Jose loved his mother dearly because she was the only family he’d had since his father had abandoned them. All he could remember of his father was that he was a violent drunk whom his mother never stopped loving, even till date. If there were any happy moments they had together as a family, they must be buried in the deepest recess of his memories. If he ever missed the significance of a fatherly figure in his life, it would be so hard to know now for Jose seemed to have beaten the odds by turning out good. He was the pride of his mother and community, the brightest in his class and every mother in the community’s ideal image of a husband for their daughter.
But all that were furthest from Jose’s mind as he felt damnation of the soul was worth every ounce, if all the stories his friends told him about the Christmas carnival were anything to go by. Moreover, he was tired of being called the mother’s boy at eighteen or branded the kid amongst his friends because he hadn’t “Busted a cherry”. So with the help of Lucio, he was going to sneak out of the house tonight. He was finally going to prove to them that he was a man.
After his mother had gone to bed that night, he sneaked out of the house and went to the carnival. The carnival was all Jose had dreamt about and much more. The fanfare, the costumes, the dance, the food, drinks and finally, the girls were so explosive. It was as though he had been blind all his life and he silently cursed his mother for shielding him. He felt like a feral animal that had been caged all its life, but was now suddenly unleashed into the beauty of the wilderness. He was lost in a world he never had the slightest knowledge existed, and he was enjoying every bit of it. The night then got better as he and Lucio were suddenly ambushed by two giggling girls. The girls teased as though they’d had one too many to drink and before Jose could blink an eyelid he was already been sequestered away as one of the girls took his arm and dragged him towards the thicket. A little panicked, Jose looked towards Lucio for help but all Lucio did was to wink at him as he too was dragged away. Resigned to his blissful faith, he told himself that the worse that could happen would be him forfeiting his chastity. How very wrong he had been.
Once within the privacy of the thicket, the girl grabbed his crotch and squeezed. He was shocked beyond imagination by the girl’s unabashed temerity, but his betraying crotch welcomed it with immense pleasure as it grew in considerable proportion. So he grabbed her by the bum and began to kiss her but she gently pushed him away, whispered teasingly in his ear before running into the night giggling. Fifteen minutes later and out of breath, he caught up with her and they both tumbled to the floor kissing as they fumbled to get off their clothing. Once their clothing’s had been discarded, the girl spread her legs wide and began to direct him into her. Jose felt excitement coarse through his body as he shook in urgency but as he was about to penetrate, they heard a loud chant which was followed by a scream.
As they quickly disentangled to investigate the source of the screaming, Jose cursed his bloody luck as he was dead sure that, even in sleep, his mother was making sure he preserved his chastity. They crept quietly to investigate the source of the chant and a few meters away, they came across a mass in dark cowls. They were gathered around an altar and on it was a terrified girl who was stripped completely of any form of clothing. With trembling hands, Jose quickly covered the girl’s mouth as a low whimper almost escaped her. Too scared to move, they both watched as the pagan black mass chanted and went about their unholy ceremony. When the chanting finally stopped, one of them walked towards the altar. He was as silent as death; no! He was death for as he got to the altar, he effortlessly lifted the girl and slit her throat from ear to ear.
Shocked beyond mobility, Jose watched as he drained her blood with a chalice that mysteriously appeared in his hand. After he finished draining her blood, he then removed his cowl and gleefully drank her blood. When Jose caught a glimpse of the heinous face behind the cowl, his breath caught and his heart stopped beating as something worse than terror slowly stole in. As his mind painstakingly tried to process what his eyes had seen, a tiny whimper of futility escaped him. As his whimper carried into their gathering, they all swiftly turned in unison and laid piercing eyes that glowed red like beacons, in their direction.
Jose so badly wanted to scream, he tried, but all he could manage was a whizzing for their eyes had held him a captive to their whim. The black mass began to glide towards them with their arms spread wide, as thought reaching for them with the hunger of a welcoming lover and Jose would have remained that way, had the girl not bitten his fingers in desperation. The pain jarred him back to his senses and they both took flight. Behind them, they heard a guttural wail of anger and the cackling of bones as the black mass changed form and gave chase.
***************
Jose woke up screaming. Absolute terror that he was impotent to quell, washed over him as thought a bucket full of warm blood had been doused on him. The torture of reliving the horror in his sleeping hours saddened and weakened him to the point of despair. It’s been five and half years since the experience but not a night goes by, that he didn’t relive it. Every night, he went to bed believing it would be different but as soon as he falls asleep, the nightmares would come crashing like a tidal wave.
He’d been told that he’d gotten home naked, bloodied, dirty and in a near catatonic state that night. But by morning, he’d recovered from the shock but he still wasn’t speaking, even after five years, the once garrulous lad still couldn’t bring himself to talk much. He was now gaunt from worry and till this day, remains a virgin but he isn’t complaining. The effect of terror was ever prominent in all his activities as he feared all human contact. To his petrified soul, anyone could have been those creatures he saw that night. They all claimed he was paranoid but he knew they were close by and watching, waiting for him to slip. Most night, he could smell them when the wind blew towards his window, while on some nights, he could feel their eyes scrutinizing his ever action.
Evil had been invited into his home
He now had a haunted look, which led most people to think he’d lost his marbles and maybe he had. But does watching creatures tear a girl limb for limb not give him justifiable reason for losing his marbles? His friends, especially Lucio tried to get him to snap out of his dread but he shied away from them because he didn’t trust them. Despite the fact that his mother and Lucio’s father were now married, irrevocably making them step brothers, he still couldn’t trust him. Most thought the bases for his fear were misplaced but they knew not what his eyes had witnessed. They knew not the terror his heart had experienced and for that, they should be grateful. They knew not evil and therefore will suspect none, for that they should feel blessed.
Three days after his terrifying encounter with the unknown, he received a package. There was this ominous feeling of dread as he opened the package with shaky hands. Somehow he knew it was them, he just knew. Resting at the base of the package was somethingwhich initially was vaguely familiar but then became dreadfully unmistakable. It was the clawed up remnant of the girl’s hand he’d excitedly held on to that night. Accompanying it was one her ears, her bloated tongue, her shrunken heart, one of her eyes which still stared surprisingly into the cold vacuum of death and a note. The note read;
With the hand that led you forth into this adversity,
We have brought you these tidings.
With thy eyes, you have seen no evil.
With thy ears, you have heard no evil.
With thy tongue, you shall speak no evil.
With thy owlish heart, you will surely heed,
for we are watching.
The threat was unmistakable and the message had been crystal clear. He was determined to forget the memories of the gruesome past just to appease them, for there was his mother and a home he could now never leave. With the memories of his dark experience weighing him down, he struggled to go back to sleep but his eyes dared not shut. He was now bound to the living and the dead, a beacon to the nocturnal and a repellant to the diurnal. The corruptible stench of death dogged his every action, for the stench never leaves you once it has grazed you. It never leaves for death never forgets, just like an old Polaroid photograph, it remembers all that it has seductively stroked and forever leeches on their tortured soul.
When sleep finally came, the last thing he saw was the distorted, yet human face of the creature as it drank from the chalice that night. The distinctive and unmistakable face of his step father, Pedro Azevedo, and a cold shiver of dread sprawled through his spine.
Evil had indeed been invited into his home
My Dark School Of Thoughts 
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