the second sight episode 30

THE SECOND
SIGHT

Chapter 30

EVIL UNMASKED

Location: SAMSON’S RESIDENCE

Boat stumbles into the room, at first too grateful to fully look around.

Eventually his eyes begin to notice things.

First he looks at his hands.

Up to his arms he is covered with thick red blood.

His horrified eyes descends, and he sees that he has been walking in a thick sludge of clotted blood, and that his whole feet up to his ankles are soaked in blood.

He recognizes the smell at last; it is the essence of fresh blood, and suddenly he is overcome with a crippling dizziness, but he fights it ha-rd.

This is not the time to pas-s out, and he steels his iron nerves together, and after a moment that eerie faintness pas-ses.

Slowly, as if he is some weird a mechanical contraption, his head comes up, and he takes stock of the room.

The light comes from candles fixed into the walls.

It is a perfectly circular room, extremely hu-ge, and with things…

As looks slowly at those things, his begin to buckle, his throat constricted, and his eyes hurt so intensely that he can ba-rely keep them open. He sinks to his knees and reaches out for the door-posts to steady himself.

The cry of horror is torn from his very depths, and as he trembles violently the first sting of tears as-sault his eyes and then fall down his cheeks.

BOAT

(tortured)

Oh, my God! Oh, dear Lord!

It is a temple of sorts – macabre, terrible, wicked and surreal.

It is an extremely hu-ge domelike enclosure, a perfectly-formed circular shape that was so precise that it defies the mind.

On the ceiling and walls are strange murals and paintings depicting abstract images and a profanity so vile and grotesque that it is inconceivable; not even the sickest mind could have dreamt of a thing like that.

The drawings are from biblical narrations.

There is one about the birth of Jesus, where he is lying in his Manger, screaming, while His mother Mary is being ra-ped by a group of horned devils, and His father Joseph is being sodomized with a hu-ge phallus-like object wielded by a grotesque caricature with a crooked halo who can only be the Almighty God.

Another one shows Christ in all His glory, holding a piece of stick to which are attached glowing strings affixed to millions of objects which can be the human race, and the Lord Himself is ejaculating on the world as He je-rks the puppets.

The Last Supper is depicted by Christ being possessed by the Devil as He makes love to a menstruating Mary Magdalene from behind, pulling bread from her br£-$ts and holding a tall wineglas-s below her pudenda as she drips red liquid into it.

The Crucifixion shows not Christ on the cross, but a dirty, wailing, emaciated figure that could have been one of the Disciples, with Christ disguised as one of the R0m-n soldiers, sticking a spear into the side of the man on the cross, winking wickedly and laughing derisively at the sick joke He has played on the world.

The Resurrection is marked by a nak-ed, dope-eyed Christ je-rking off as angels secretly carry out the stiff body of a fake Christ whilst other majestically muscular and nak-ed angels perform blow-jobs on the R0m-n soldiers standing on guard.

The Ascension is depicted by Christ with strings and ropes attached to his arms and body, being pulled upwards by angels hidden by clouds, whilst a who-re-like woman grips the Lord’s wai-st ti-ghtly, her head buried in his crotch.

The Day of Pentecost is marked by the Holy Spirit descending like a group of pe-nis es dripping thick sp-erm s into the mouths of people.

It is sick!

This is totally offensive, and even Boat, who is not a Christian, is greatly horrified to see such paintings.

It is totally unacceptable!

But it is nothing – absolutely nothing – compared to the other things on the ceiling.

Six shrivelled nak-ed corpses are hanging from the ceiling by hooks impaling their backs.

Four of them were in a perfect horizontal line, with two on each side of the second body, forming a macabre cross on the ceiling.

The corpses are males, in various stages of growth. The straight line begins with the corpse of a baby boy, followed by one of a boy around twelve years old, then a teenager and ending with the body of a man in his twenties.

The two on each side are the corpses of a middle-aged man and a very old man.

Their shrivelled faces show masks of agony, frozen into place for eternity, carefully preserved to last a lifetime.

On the walls, in between the gross paintings of Jesus’ life, are various paintings of Yaw Boat at various stages of his life, right from infancy to his present age.

At the far end of the room is a hu-ge golden throne, absolutely magnificent. Boat has no doubt that it is made from pure gold.

Resting on three human skulls in front of the throne is a golden crown.

Just beyond the throne he can dimly make out a sinuous black movement, as if the floor itself has life, and is undulating to some unheard music.

In the middle of the room is a hu-ge golden bed, and lying on it is the preserved corpse of a woman, spread-eagled, chained to the posts of the bed by golden clamps.

Boat walks forward slowly, cringing from the horror, muted cries of anguish scratching out of his throat.

He looks at the woman on the bed.

Her face is filled with untold agonies; it is evident that she has suffered a great deal before she died.

Yaw Boat turns away with a muted scream of horror, reaching blindly for one of the bedposts as the vomit spews uncontrollably.

BOAT

(M0-ning)

Oh, Lord! Oh, my God! No, no, no!!!

It is her!

Her!

The housekeeper who has broken his V¡rginity and ushered him into a world of unbridled lust!

Miss Naana!

What in the name of Hades has happened?

Boat vividly remembers his father ordering Samson Basoah to pay her off and make sure she leaves the premises.

Yes, that is it!

After the incident, Boat’s father had dragged him to church to meet the elders for interceding prayers.

They had left Miss Nana with Samson Basoah, and Joe Boat had instructed Uncle Samson to pay her off with three months advance wages and let her leave the house.

And now here she is!

It was all beginning to make sense to Boat.

Samson Basoah murdered her, no doubt, shortly after Boat and his father left the house.

It is evident now that Uncle Samson is responsible for Nana seducing him that weekend, to begin whatever evil ritual he has planned for Boat, and once his aim had been achieved he had gotten rid of her for a more deadly purpose.

How had he gotten away with all these? How had he been able to fool them for so long? Who is he? What has he done to Yaw Boat, and still plans on doing?

There are other things in the room, like the circular iron cauldrons placed at various points around the room. Cauldrons which appear to be boiling, emitting clouds of hot steam but un-der which there are no fires.

..I want you to know one simple fact: time has run out for you!

Even as you read this, a demon of old is ready to take over your body and your soul. Believe me, son, it is true!

Paul Anderson!

Always Paul Anderson.

Oh how right he has been all along! How blind had Boat been!

Throu-ghthe haze of his horror he knows time has indeed run out for him.

If he had been horrified before, he is terrified now!

This is no child’s play.

A terrible destiny is awaiting him, and he nee-ds help fast; the kind of help only his father or Anderson can give.

He has ventured into the lair of a real Goliath, and he is not a boastful nerd like the biblical Goliath, no way!

This is a cold, merciless and savage giant who will rip David’s sling out of his hand and twist it around his balls whilst stuffing round stones into places of his fancy…

Dear Lord!

And then, somewhere in the periphery of his side vision Boat sees the movement first, and in his horror-stricken stupor he swivels round.

It is that black undulating movement he has seen beyond the golden throne. It is alive now, moving in a violent fluid fashion, and it is accompanied by a sound…

A hissing sound!

The candlelight reflects off a shiny black scaly skin …and then Boat’s breath catches in a silent scream of horror as the head of an anaconda, or something like it, rears up just in front of the throne, jaws wide-open, forked tongue beating hungrily.

That whole dark mas-s beyond the throne is, in actual fact, the coiled body of the largest man-eating snake the world has ever seen!

Boat gets to his feet and – whimpering, panic-stricken – flees the room blindly, hastily. He hears the rush of air behind him, and knows that terrible reptile is inches from him, fangs gaping wide, preparing to swallow him whole!

He blasts blindly into the dark corridor where that infernal being had followed him and almost driven him mad. Boat takes the steps with one mighty bound and emerges in Uncle Samson’s bedroom gasping for breath as tears of anguish runs down his face.

He stops cold suddenly.

He sees Hideous dra-ped across Uncle Samson’s bed.

And, standing just inside the room, his scarred face a map of stunned incomprehension, is Samson Basoah.

Boat stares at him, and his tortured face might have said it all.

However, the horror melts from Samson’s face fast, and suddenly that gentle face, that sweet caring face, changes rapidly, and on it is an expression of terrible fury.

At that moment he is the Samson Basoah that Boat’s father had once told him about. He is the ha-rdened criminal, the terrible murderer who had broken a man’s ne-ck with a little twist of his victim’s chin.

He is the Basoah who had served on death row, the merciless killer whose sheer bulk and strength made him a formidable enemy.

Boat knows then that whatever they have shared together is gone, and even in that terrible moment of acute betrayal, the realization hurt Boat real bad.

He finds it ha-rd – even after all that he has seen – to believe that this man has faked all the love he had shown to him.

The times they have had together, the moment of mutual love and care …they are all gone, lost in a second of revelation.

It makes Boat’s heart bleed!

But not now, not anymore, not ever again.

Uncle Samson closes the gap between them quickly, moving with the sinuous grace of a feline animal.

And then, as his face continues to change with fury, the other thing appears.

It blazes right on his forehead, a terrible red evil thing.

The mark of The Beast!

666!

Boat points a trembling finger at Samson even as he closes in on him, and Boat’s face is split up into tortured lines of pure agony.

BOAT

(pas-sionately, pained)

What are you? How dare you do this to me, to my father? How could you?

He grates out throu-ghgnashing teeth, heart torn to shreds by the depths of his feelings.

Samson slows down now, his harsh face without pity or remorse. His li-ps seems to draw back from his teeth in a vicious snarl.

He is an animal!

BOAT

We loved you! Dad made you a part of our family! He took you from prison and made you who you are! Is this how you repay us, by giving me this evil shit? Who the hell gave you the right to gamble with my damn life?

The words are ejected out of Boat violently like bullets, pushed out by emotional volcanoes.

Samson comes to a halt just inches from Boat.

UNCLE SAMSON

(coldly, detached)

It is not a gamble, my boy. It is your destiny. But you’re talking too much. You’ve always talked too much, and I have no explanations for you. You only nee-d to know that tonight is your night. You’ll will know everything before the sun rises, trust me.

BOAT

(shouting)

Don’t give me that shit! Destiny? Whose f*¢king destiny? Mine? What right do you have over my bloody life? You want me to end up like you with that damn mark of the beast on my forehead too?

That stops him completely dead in his tracks, his face twisted grotesquely with shock …and yes, the first hint of great fear.

His great head tilts to one side, and his eyes narrow. It is a rare look; it is his confused stance, and he cannot hide his growing horror. His ne-ck twitches perceptively, and a vein beats erratically on his ravaged right cheek.

UNCLE SAMSON

(scared)

What? No, you can’t! No! It is not possible! You? With the Second Sight? It really happened? You’re an Unblind?

BOAT

(agonized)

You’re damn right it f*¢king happened, and I’m a bloody Unblind, and I can f*¢king see the mark of the beast blazing on your f*¢king forehead! Everything Pastor Anderson said has come true! What the hell did you do to Miss Naana, and what the hell have you been doing to me?

TBC…