He prowls, waits and pounces, he devours. A woman’s body is his meat, his play thing. Object! He does not care for a thing in the world. His conscience is dead, he has torn his heart out a long time ago. His reasoning is warped; all these come with the territory. He is sick! Only he does not know it; another malady in itself.
Over the years he has perfected his art, calculating meticulously: the right prey, time and adequate level of brutality per his prey. But of late he has been on self-imposed hibernation. Things are changing for his kind, beast he is, changing for the bad. The good old days, days of free and reckless hunting are coming to an end. He is deeply saddened!
Just last week he was checking in on his traps on Facebook (one of his numerous jungles) when he saw another of those horrible videos that sends bouts of shivering depression through his veins. It had happened in India. Two rapists had been caught in the act. They were tied to the stake in that defenseless position of hands in the sky. Women gathered. Slapping, punching, beating, biting, clubbing, they had asserted their humanity to those two bastards. They had shown they are non–object. There was the one the week before, another video. He got so angered by it he does not know where it happened, but he remembers their Latino faces and that they spoke Spanish. They had held down a man who had raped a girl. With shoes they beat his manhood, a vengeful torture that left blood escaping the offender’s mouth when he yelped in pain. He was angrier at that video because the retaliators were men. How can men take women’s side in such matters? They must be bloody faggots.
He is that sick… only he does not know it.
He prays for his unfortunate brothers in parts of the world where his kind are persecuted, that they be more careful, that they be more favoured. Favoured much like he was in Port-harcourt when he arranged with friends with whom he preyed and devoured an unsuspecting girl from 2go. He had made a video of the encounter, uploaded it to the internet where it went viral. The video was his statue of victory, his Oscar, a reminder to him of his legacy, and his sadistic reminder to the girl of the day she pled for death that did not come. Her un–death, her curse. It appeased him, the reactions he got from his teeming fans. “What did the girl go there to do in the first place?” “She is an idiot.” “She is a whore.” “She must have enjoyed it.” “She deserves what she got.” “This will teach her a lesson.”
These reviews make him giddy with joy. He dances in victory, a dance better than David’s. But there are the bad reviews that calls him the beast he is. So he goes online to look up rape, research, to seek validation against those dissenting lot. He sees a poll that had asked if it was bad to rape a woman dresses provocatively. 67% say it is bad. 33% say she deserves it. 75% of the 33% are women themselves. He rejoices in this little validation. It means the world to him that women have this opinion. Women! He goes out that evening, to a club this time. Here women dress provocatively. He ignores the opinions that say that a woman owns her body and should be free to wear what she likes. He does not look the other way like some opinions suggest to beasts like him. He waits and preys and devours another that night, his authority being women themselves. He indents his irreparable scar yet again, a scar never to be healed.
He does not think that for every woman he damages, there are three who would have consensual intercourse if approached rightly; that the damage is unnecessary. But it is his power game. Of course he is not aware that real men don’t flex muscles on jewels. That’s what punching bags are for.
Next time, he preys on drunk women. Another survey faults them for their own rape. So a bar becomes his next choice jungle. He never thinks of the women in his life: his sisters, his mother, his aunts, his grandmas, the daughters he would have some day. What if other men objectifies them the way he has other women? His reasoning has no capacity for such thoughts of karma, such thoughts of repentance. He has no care in the world for that.
He is that deluded. So deluded he is re-evaluating his hunting tactics now that hunting beasts like he is are getting horrible but well-deserved jungle justice. He will strike again when he has recalculated.
What he does not realize is that the hottest parts of hell will burn to a million degrees the souls of the likes of him.
Photo Credit: Dreamstime | Birgit Reitz-hofmann