Thesocratespot: The Art of Story telling - Part 6.0075 : Faceoff # 1
Phantom was sitting calm, intently directing his gaze onto Tarzan, he knew that every minute now was important, he had done this before with several others and they virtually ended up in asylums or a few others had become fodders for his sacrificial rituals where the victims offered to give away some part of their body for a greater cause but with Tarzan, Phantom had a different plan.
Phantom thought he needed Tarzan for a while longer.
Because Phantom thought tarzan could elevate his passion far above the strata that he had managed to achieve so far, besides he was also on the look out for a deputy who could play proxy everytime Phantom wanted slip out of public eye and indulge on some bizarre rituals that he had invented that were so macabre anyone witnessing it would probably die of shock or end up butchered to death sooner or later.
Phantom continued his cold gaze on Tarzan, sitting cross legged like a Buddha and keeping his arms folded across his chest no words were spoken between the two, Tarzan could not stare back as much as he would have liked it he was totally and completely in zombie land he was just not sure where he was the blood under his body was so sticky and it smelt horrific he wanted to scream and rush out and dive deep into the village river to cleanse himself thoroughly but somehow he was just not able make any move except try balance his swinging neck try bringing back eye balls to focus on something get some strength to move his at least one hand of his, he was leaning his shaky torso on one hand while trying to get up and sit cross legged and stare back at Phantom, verytime he attempted to sit up his hand would slip and then a whole new effort to sit upright would start.
Despite his state of absolute nothingness, state of a body moving from zero gravity to a black hole into a dark mass of voracious matter guzzling space pit where he would be the garbage meant to contribute to the recycling process of some higher form of spatial hunger, despite his state of utter darkness he sensed that he still had his girls body lying next to him and somehow felt she was breathing, even if she was bleeding her eyes had already lost all movements her breathing wasn't showing and she nude and limp.
She was lying with her breast up, her head rolled to the right looking at me, her eyes looking at the sky somewhere, her two hands sprawled like they were nailed, her mouth spewing thick blood thickening and clotting as it flowed out, her shapely legs spread out, her vagina exposed and so was a part of her shapely derriers since she was lying in a sideway position.
My name's Annie.
I'm here on this stage enacting the role of a vengeful victim - a la Emily.
I hate this universe, hate men, hate the politicians even more, but the one lot that I would love to anhilate with my own hands are all these God men, fucking God men !
They are the one's who exploited me even after my death, they first sacrificed my limb and then made me beg on the streets of a strange town then as my organs grew they used them initially to play act like a Devi they soon realised I was a source of pleasure so they used me like and I was also a raw material for more sacrifice - so then they cut my leg then they cut my other hand then they blinded me later they burnt my face
I was enacting a girl born among a devadasi family that later on converted to Islam & Christianity we converted from our devadasi religion thinking the change will eventually help us evolve beyond our casteist compulsions but we realised some stigmas remain, despite our proselitysation our life never really changed, we remained devadasi's our kith & kin continued to live as one, we celebrated our festivals, our gods, our culture etc., as usual - just that some changed their names from Bindu to Nalini to Nafisa and some changed from Ram to Tom and others changed from Rani to Annie.
The voice over , that followed the tableau of Phantom sitting and gazing, Tarzan leaning on his one hand, and me Annie lying almost nude with blood around etc., ended with a loud applause, in fact it was a standing ovation from an audinece that was a part of a packed auditorium.
We were enacting a play at the Cochin Biennalle.
As soon as the curtains dropped we all hugged each other and walked out of the macabre stage we had created, to take out our make up and get back to our normal human life.
Phantom was sitting calm, intently directing his gaze onto Tarzan, he knew that every minute now was important, he had done this before with several others and they virtually ended up in asylums or a few others had become fodders for his sacrificial rituals where the victims offered to give away some part of their body for a greater cause but with Tarzan, Phantom had a different plan.
Phantom thought he needed Tarzan for a while longer.
Because Phantom thought tarzan could elevate his passion far above the strata that he had managed to achieve so far, besides he was also on the look out for a deputy who could play proxy everytime Phantom wanted slip out of public eye and indulge on some bizarre rituals that he had invented that were so macabre anyone witnessing it would probably die of shock or end up butchered to death sooner or later.
Phantom continued his cold gaze on Tarzan, sitting cross legged like a Buddha and keeping his arms folded across his chest no words were spoken between the two, Tarzan could not stare back as much as he would have liked it he was totally and completely in zombie land he was just not sure where he was the blood under his body was so sticky and it smelt horrific he wanted to scream and rush out and dive deep into the village river to cleanse himself thoroughly but somehow he was just not able make any move except try balance his swinging neck try bringing back eye balls to focus on something get some strength to move his at least one hand of his, he was leaning his shaky torso on one hand while trying to get up and sit cross legged and stare back at Phantom, verytime he attempted to sit up his hand would slip and then a whole new effort to sit upright would start.
Despite his state of absolute nothingness, state of a body moving from zero gravity to a black hole into a dark mass of voracious matter guzzling space pit where he would be the garbage meant to contribute to the recycling process of some higher form of spatial hunger, despite his state of utter darkness he sensed that he still had his girls body lying next to him and somehow felt she was breathing, even if she was bleeding her eyes had already lost all movements her breathing wasn't showing and she nude and limp.
She was lying with her breast up, her head rolled to the right looking at me, her eyes looking at the sky somewhere, her two hands sprawled like they were nailed, her mouth spewing thick blood thickening and clotting as it flowed out, her shapely legs spread out, her vagina exposed and so was a part of her shapely derriers since she was lying in a sideway position.
My name's Annie.
I'm here on this stage enacting the role of a vengeful victim - a la Emily.
I hate this universe, hate men, hate the politicians even more, but the one lot that I would love to anhilate with my own hands are all these God men, fucking God men !
They are the one's who exploited me even after my death, they first sacrificed my limb and then made me beg on the streets of a strange town then as my organs grew they used them initially to play act like a Devi they soon realised I was a source of pleasure so they used me like and I was also a raw material for more sacrifice - so then they cut my leg then they cut my other hand then they blinded me later they burnt my face
I was enacting a girl born among a devadasi family that later on converted to Islam & Christianity we converted from our devadasi religion thinking the change will eventually help us evolve beyond our casteist compulsions but we realised some stigmas remain, despite our proselitysation our life never really changed, we remained devadasi's our kith & kin continued to live as one, we celebrated our festivals, our gods, our culture etc., as usual - just that some changed their names from Bindu to Nalini to Nafisa and some changed from Ram to Tom and others changed from Rani to Annie.
The voice over , that followed the tableau of Phantom sitting and gazing, Tarzan leaning on his one hand, and me Annie lying almost nude with blood around etc., ended with a loud applause, in fact it was a standing ovation from an audinece that was a part of a packed auditorium.
We were enacting a play at the Cochin Biennalle.
As soon as the curtains dropped we all hugged each other and walked out of the macabre stage we had created, to take out our make up and get back to our normal human life.
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