6°35’44.9”N 6°04’44.2”W – Kouétinfla, Ivory Coast
19.05.2024 – 06.00 UTC+00:00
I walked slowly in the now-waking streets of Kouétinfla. I had left everything useless behind, at the scene of the crime, but I had kept what I needed: Akissi’s machete, Kouadio’s, or rather, my semi-automatic rifle, and five enchanted pouches in the backpack.
I carried Demi’s/my body for the first hour as well, until I found a place to hide it in the wilderness. I hated it with all my being, but I could not leave it exposed.
Being hunted for the entire night, I used the advantages of a Sparked body that did not ever tire. I had circled the wilderness around Kouétinfla for hours, constantly followed by search teams and two separate helicopters. Whoever was looking for me eventually gave up or lost me a few hours before sunrise, but I knew they would come back looking for me if I carried all that mattered in my backpack.
I felt one of the many spiders keeping me Sparked, walking on the nape of my neck, its little bites stitching my rotting flesh together. I lifted my vest, hiding the small spider from sight.
I had considered running away, hoping the Curse that Demi/I cast on this body would run forever keeping me/Kouadio alive. I could have a chance to cancel out a gruesome screaming death, perhaps as a reward of my feats in life before being Sparked. Alas, the memory of Akissi, Demi/me, and Guarin lying dead, and Rox’s battered head haunted my thoughts. I could not abandon the mission.
So here I was, walking through the empty and unsuspecting streets of Kouétinfla, where we were supposed to meet allies for a mission that now I knew was never supposed to succeed. I was sure of that. This was a set-up. In Demi’s body, I might have been smarter. In this new Sparked body, my thoughts were cloudy. Kouadio could not figure out why Rox betrayed us.
But his/my instinct was unmistakable. We were all set up to fail and get as far as we could carrying a powerful artifact through a cursed land. Rox’s mission was to kill all of us. Kouadio was always supposed to die screaming, Demi was meant to die in her sleep
But here I was, a mix of both and a mutation of a Curse and mortal, walking towards the inn that was our meeting point. A man stood outside the door smoking a roughly made cigarette, that looked abnormally large.
I am not sure who he was, and as he stood up to speak, I shot my rifle. The ingredients that made up his innocent head splashed over the outside wall of the inn. I grabbed his cigarette and gave my mouth something to chew on.
I opened the door of the inn. Two men were on the ground floor of what looked like a restaurant: one was already ducking behind the bar and the second was half-asleep, drunk at a table in the corner.
I shot first the man behind the bar, letting multiple rounds spray towards him, splashing crimson red innards across the wall. The drunk man yelled something towards me as he fell scared off his chair. I walked towards him and shot him point-blank.
I waited exactly two seconds to count the steps on the upper floors of the inn. Maybe I did care a bit for my safety, but that was not how this mission would end, me safe and sound drinking beer. No, it would end in answers, and if senseless murder is what it took, this Sparked body had its cursed orders.
Kouadio kill, my/Demi’s last words echoed in my head as I started walking the stairs up. I could hear people running. As I stepped on the first floor, a bullet flew next to me and missed me. I fired back and hit my mark. A young boy dropped dead in the middle of the corridor; a crude pistol appropriate for his untimely death dropping from his hands. A woman screamed, and another man started begging.
Kouadio kill, I heard again, almost convincing me this was an order, as I shot every single one of them, floor by floor. Everyone that fought back, that begged, that ran. Some of them were armed and belonged to the group that had hired us and came here to help. Some of them were simply renting a room for the night.
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By the middle of the second floor, I reached my last round of ammo. I continued with Akissi’s machete to save the rifle for when I absolutely need it. Luckily these floors were emptier and quieter. That made it easier to focus. I felt my dead tendons rip with every slash, and Demi’s spiders crawling into my skin fixing my body, my hardening muscles and stiffening skin.
As I entered a room, a man holding a pistol waited for me. He shot right at my chest, and tens of spiders sprawled forward stitching me back together. I lifted my machete and I saw a primal fear in his eyes, as he sprang and jumped from the window, breaking the glass and landing three floors down. I continued.
I knew a secret. Oblivious men begged. Useless men were scared. None of these people I killed knew why I/we were betrayed and killed, so they were of no use. I had to find the one that would not beg, the one that would not be scared. The one that would bargain or try to reason with me.
When I reached the fifth floor of the inn, cars full of armed men were already surrounding the building. I could hear their scared voices from a megaphone they used to let me know I was surrounded. Useless.
I turned around. There was no one on the floor, besides two men cut by machete and left bleeding on the floor.
The terrain changed and my vision suddenly was limited by a blurry border, almost like a glass crystal surrounding me five meters in all directions.
I looked at the ceiling, now gone and replaced by a glass, almost visibly held by what looked like a hand. All sounds outside the inn were muffled by this barrier. No, not a barrier.
A supernatural force had stopped my rampage, putting and holding a literal glass around me. Like how you trap a bug you do not want to hurt.
I was still at the inn, but also not. I was a little spider trapped in a glass. I hit the glass walls with all my force. I could see a hand holding the glass at the top as if a giant had decided to toy with me.
“Great sense of humor,” I said in Baoulé.
Was this real? Or in my head? Probably both.
“How about you let me out, and I make sure you bleed fast enough not to hurt.”
The voice exited my head and then rematerialized somewhere outside the glass.
“Listen here you little cockroach” the voice became raspy as it screamed through the glass. I saw a huge, distorted face on one side of the glass, wide eyes with bright blue and red mascara. They were the eyes of the giant holding the glass. Watching me, threatening me. “Your little tantrum has alerted the stupid men of this town, that are now surrounding you. If you do not cooperate with me, I will squish you like a little goat tard under my boot, before they even get to you.”
I laughed.
“I was so wrong. I thought the one behind this would not be scared. But you are.” I waved my machete towards the giant eyes. “You can’t do shit, because I have what you need in my backpack. And if your hexes could have killed me, you would have done it already.” I kept on laughing. “Keep me stuck here for all I care!”
“Oh my god” the eyes rolled back hard “the insolence of this fucking thing. I can’t believe I woke up at six for this.” The voice sighed. “I will break it down to your level: you are a psychopathic rotting zombie. I am The Haunt. Fucking OBEY!”
The hand started shaking the glass, hitting me everywhere. Spiders sprawled from my bruises to heal them.
I sighed and grabbed my machete, lifting it and reaching for my neck. I stuck my tongue out and winked at the face outside the glass trap. I figured, if this thing was playing with my brain, my brain was a liability. Luckily, I did not need it.
I hadn’t thought of my parents in years. Unfortunately, I did not remember how they looked. But I swear, my mother was there. That was my mother.
“--- don’t worry. We will weave it back. I promise.” I was little, and she smiled at me. She stood next to me, and I felt her hands holding me tight, hugging me.
“I miss you,” I said.
“I know baby, hold still. We need to be sure the wound heals. And then we will go outside and watch the clouds. How about that?”
I felt pain as I felt her weave. And weave, and weave.