The Apprentice Ep3

“That was close” he thought to himself. He hadn’t had such interference in a long time. He was performing the purification rights on another sinner when he was interrupted. As much as he wanted his work to be seen, it didn’t serve his purposes for his identity to be revealed. This was why he occasionally had extended periods of inactivity, just to keep the public from sensing a pattern. The longest one he had taken as far back as his memory served was the one he took in September after the gardener’s purge. That one had really riled the city up and he didn’t really need that kind of attention anyway. He didn’t purge them to send a message so people could change their ways. No, he purged them because they weren’t pure.

Due to the interference he had been forced to drag the girl’s body further into the bushes to complete the ritual. She was guilty of immorality, much more homosexuality. He had seen her that night in a dark corner along the skyway corridors and it took all his years of training and discipline not to purge her and her lover right there. As a good soldier to the cause, he always carried the essentials necessary for the job. However tonight he didn’t use his robe. That was reserved for special purges. He wore a black hoodie on navy blue pants. He watched from a little distance for minutes until they were done. Still on the skyway, he shadowed them as they took a stroll hand in hand. He really wondered how messed up their minds must have been to indulge in such repulsive acts. The thought of it alone made him want to barf. To get his mind off it, he whistled his all-time favorite classical piece; nocturne. He whistled too loud at the beginning and one of the girls had looked back. She had a conventionally “fine” face but everything about her was ugly as far as he was concerned. They took the stairs between block nine and ten and headed towards one of the lecture theatres attached to the walkway. They paused outside the lecture theatre and shared a lengthy hug after which the fine face girl left and the other went into the class. He climbed back, up to the skyway and picked somewhere with a view of the lecture theatre the girl was in and watched her through the windows. His brain registering her every move with a honed precision. He said a silent prayer, that the day’s hunt be fruitful. He never prayed for the hunt to be easy, he didn’t see the point. It never was, but he prevailed more often than not. Yes, there were some that had eluded him, the lucky bastards.

The girl stepped out to receive a call, he had seen her when the call came in and he quickly descended to the walkway. He was down the stairs before she stepped out of the lecture theatre. Whoever she was speaking had clearly gotten her so engrossed in the discussion that she was unable to notice him shadowing her. She walked towards the faculty of arts just past their performing theatre and down a bushy path. He had crept into the bushes a distance from where she was. She paced along the path for the duration of the call. While in the bushes he monitored the path and the closest road to it making sure there was no one else in sight. After about four minutes on the phone she hung up and was about to leave. He had prepared himself for this moment. In preparation he had folded a handkerchief on his hand just wide enough to cover her mouth and thick enough that her screams won’t be heard. He sprang forward out of the bushes his hands flying forward he cupped them over her mouth just in time. She struggled hard trying to break free, but he was stronger than she was and her efforts were futile. The sound of their struggle was louder than he had anticipated so he decided to pacify her, a skill he had picked up in preparation for situations like this. Soon she was asleep and lying on the floor deeper into the bushes, deep enough for his movements not to be seen or heard he thought. His task was simple, he already had in mind what he planned to do the girl. There was a guideline to punishments for various sins, but that’s all they were guidelines and not rules. He was free to reinvent. Like the gardener in the greenhouse, he had dug where he didn’t sow and the priest had dug a pitch fork into his head. He tried every once in a while to employ very relevant symbolism but resources weren’t always available.

However, that night he had all he needed. From a leather bag that contained only his tools he produced his knife, a roll of fishing line and a piece of cloth. He used the fishing line to tie her arms and legs together behind her back. Prodding her mouth open he stuffed the cloth in her mouth to form a gag. He then produced a flint knife that was passed down from his predecessor to him. Moving quickly, he cut open her blouse, and after her bra. Her chest laid bare before him, he took a few seconds to imagine what he wanted to do and began. Putting the flint just below her sternum, he drew a shape that most people would recognize for its conventional use, but it meant something else as recently defined by a certain community of people.

λ

While he drew the symbol, she started to wake. He paused, and looked in her eyes. He watched how confusion gave in to fear as her eyes went wide. She tried to move her hands and feet but he had bound them both together behind her back, so she was unable to break free. The twine only cut deeper into her skin. That didn’t stop her from wriggling and trying to scream but he was convinced no one would hear. With considerable he held her down with his left hand at her chest and her legs with his knees while his right hand held the flint. He continued the symbol he was drawing on her chest. Taking his time because of all the blood was getting in the way and the only light he had was the moonlight which was hiding behind clouds as time passed. After about two minutes, she stopped resisting. Apparently too weak from the struggling, pain and blood loss. He intended for her to bleed out that way so he made the cut deep enough.

He was done with the symbol; he was simply now watching her as she laid there on the grass. He listened to her weakening pleas for help, she could barely move at this point. Her eyes became gentle and tears trickled down the sides of her head, some of it collecting in her ears. He didn’t feel a moments remorse, she had sinned and she was to die. He remained motionless in the bushes, still watching her when he heard footsteps not too far in the bushes. Someone had heard them! He froze, trying to see a shape in the bushes but it was too dark, he didn’t see anything. While watching he silently collected his things in his leather bag and moved in the other direction as fast as he could, he moved deeper into the bushes. As he retreated he contemplated waiting to see who it was but he decided it wasn’t a risk worth taking, his Job was practically done.

*

On getting back to the hostel that night, I was unable to sleep. With so much adrenaline in my veins, I kept fidgeting and pacing around my room convincing myself that the killer hadn’t seen me in the bushes. I checked the wall clock and it was ten minutes past eleven pm and I knew I had to gather myself before my roommate returned. I took another shower but it did very little to calm me down, I could not stop thinking about the killer and if he had seen me. Ironically I had hoped to see him again, for months I had religiously taken walks in hopes of our paths crossing again. Now that they did, I was completely unprepared for what happened and that was the reason for my fear. An alarm I had set on my phone earlier in the day jarred me back to reality, I turned it off and unlocked my phone reading and replying messages. I saw Toyin’s missed call and contemplated returning the call but I was in no frame of mind to have a late night heart to heart. So I lay on my bed imagining various outcomes to my experience that night. I could not shake the feeling that he had seen me. Much more the identity of the killer had so much surprised me. I could never have suspected. Somewhere between fear and wonder, I got tired and sleep was bliss.

The next morning, I went to the laundry to drop off some clothes. It was Friday and I didn’t have any classes, so I decided to get some chores done or done for me as far as washing was concerned. I much preferred to clean on Fridays leaving Saturdays free and the struggle for water not mine. I was done with cleaning by noon, laying on my bed listening to olamide playing on my laptop. I decided to return Toyin’s call. She was surprised that I had called back, after last night she thought I had no interest in talking to her. I merely laughed it off telling her it was no such thing, just that I was dealing with something and I didn’t want my mood to kill the conversation. She feigned belief and moved on to telling me how her day had been, she seemed so full of joy and energy I couldn’t but ask why. Apparently her father had just bought her the smartphone of her dreams as a birthday present. Which led to me asking when her birthday was, it was in two days and she was going to have a small party somewhere off campus. She asked if I’d like to come for her birthday but I was reluctant. I told her I barely knew her and any of her friends and would have ended up being bored and a complete stranger but she persuaded me, promising that I won’t feel left out. I agreed after much persuasion, besides it was Sunday and I was doing nothing. After a detour into her relationship life and how complicated it was to her, I ended the call with a promise to call her later that night.

As usual my roommate wasn’t in, he always found somewhere to go, so I was left alone to my thoughts. I changed the track that was playing to a classical piece; Mozart’s moonlight sonata, I often played that when I wanted to think, it gave my thoughts a pace; one I was well accustomed to. Slowly I drifted off into my mind, clinically approaching each thought I came across. I went back to the previous night in the bushes, remembering every detail as clear as day. I wasn’t scared, not in this state. I played the whole scene over and over this time I could see the girls face, at least the best of what moonlight offered, she didn’t seem so pretty. She was wearing a blue blouse; it was cut down the middle. Then I saw the priest’s face, and I paused making sure it was exactly who I thought it was. The face was unmistakable yet it seemed so wrong, I had never imagined that that person would make a hobby of killing. I decided to make a note on my phone, mapping out the events and their locations using acronyms only I would understand. That was murder number two and I was expecting a third.