Travails of the Bog-Man: Part 1

His sleep was disturbed by loud guttural voices. The voices were loud and terrifying.

HONG!HONG!HONG!HONG!.....UDHUGH! UDHUGH! UDHUGH! UDHUGH!

AAHHAA!!! HAAHUUAAHH!!!AAHHAAA!!!

they loosely resembled the sounds on Talibani (and Iraqi and Al Qaeda's) execution videos, where helpless hostages were decapitated for the entertainment of masses and which provide the content for unlimited intellectually stimulating one-line(or more) online debates, peppered and were salted with references to different body parts, on discussion forums, you tube comment sections etc.

AAGH!!AAGH!!AAGH!AAGH! UGH!! UGH! KHAAGGH!! KHAAGH!!

the sounds were terrible, as the neck made desperate attempts to stay united with the rest of the body.

Then one final loud and absolutely terrorizing

KHWACK!!!

He felt the urge to go outside and see what was actually happening. But he was terrified, and more than that he was lazy. He did not have any classes that morning, and he had no intention of getting out of the bed even if someone was being murdered just a few metres away from his room. Finally, he decided that he will not step outside, and the voices died down after a few minutes. The victim was perhaps dead. He heard some footsteps outside his doors. The killers were walking away. He just prayed that he will not have to see the gory sight of the dead body. With the head thrown away a few feet away. He had seen some pictures on the internet, and did not wish at all to see all that in reality. In a few minutes, the house keeeping staff will come, and they will clean up the area. He decided to step out only once he had heard someone clean up the area.

He lived in a boys hostel. A pretty large one. He was a simple, honest, truthful, humble, punctual, studious, god-fearing guy and respected and revered his teachers and was totally detested by all and had no friends. The hostel had long corridors, with rooms on the either side and washrooms at the end of every corridor. The rooms closest to the washrooms were the one which no one wanted to occupy. He, being a simple, honest, truthful, humble, punctual, studious, god-fearing guy who respected and revered his teachers and was totally detested by all and had no friends, volunteered to live in one such room so that someone else was spared that torture.

He heard no shrieks and cries when the housekeeping staff arrived. He heard them open all the taps, letting the water flow. Perhaps to wash off the blood. He smelled a faint odor of phenyl and some other disinfectant. The housekeeping staff finished the job quickly. He was surprised that they treated a murder in such normal manner. He stepped outside. The washrooms were only a few metres away. They were spic and span, except for some nasty remnants of turd who valiantly fought off all attacks from all kind of chemical disinfectants, and had forced the chief commander of the disinfectant army to instruct his chemical soldiers to bypass the areas of heavy resistance by such turd elements. There was no sign of the execution that had taken place just half an hour back. Perhaps the killers were hand in glove with the house keeping staff. There was a great conspiracy behind all this. He decided to keep this matter to himself, and not tell anyone lest he is the one who is executed next.

The next morning he was once again woken up by similar horrifying sounds. Some was being executed gruesomely once again.

ORHGH!!!KHONGHH!!ARRGH!!!GHUDGHAD!!HOONGHHH!!!

AAGH!!AAGH!!AAGH!AAGH! UGH!! UGH! KHAAGGH!! KHAAGH!!

and then the final

KHWACKKKK!!!!!

The execution must have been really painful for the victim. He sat on his bed. Petrified, stupefied, terrified, horrified, and prayed that the house keeping staff, who he believed were hand in glove with the killers will once again come and clean up the body and blood, so that he will not have to take the effort of informing institute security about the cold blooded gruesome murder. The killer walked past his door. He could hear dripping noise of some fluid. He imagined the killer walking through the corridor with a 12 inch long blade dripping with blood in his blood covered hands. It was a mystery to him that no one else was concerned about the killings. Perhaps, everybody was as petrified, stupefied, terrified, horrified as him, and prayed every day that the house keeping staff, who they believed were hand in glove with the killers, will once again and clean up the body and blood, so that they will not have to take the effort of informing institute security about the cold blooded gruesome murders. He shuddered at the thought of such silence of the lambs, even as the wolf was slowly killing hostel residents one by one.

The daily executions seemed to bother no one in his hostel. But he was worried about it all the time. He wondered about it in his class. He wondered about it in the mess halls. He wondered about it in the café. He wondered about it during the evening jog. He wondered about it in his labs. He wondered about it when he wondered about other things. He feared that he will also be executed some day in a similar fashion. So he stopped using the washrooms of his hostel. He would wake up in the morning and straightaway head for the class, making a dash as he tried to escape the killer who was perhaps around wanting to get the right opportunity to grab his neck. He packed his toiletries, towel, and some clothes along with his books in his bag. He started using the spacious washrooms of his department. Nobody however noticed this behavior as he would get over the daily ablutions much before the first students trickled in for the classes.

Meanwhile he started planning his own schemes in order to determine who the killer is and thus save his own life or at least make the killer shift the executions to a place where he would not disturbed by those horrifying sounds.