Tokoloshe: When you hear the drums, it's already too late!

by Botha, Johan

  Downstairs in the back of the shop were two single rooms equipped for someone to sleep in. This is where some of the waiters and cleaners would stay if they finished too late to get the last bus or taxi home.

  Tonight an old woman slept there. She was the grandmother of one of the cleaners and had asked Bert if she could use the room overnights. She’d get the bus early in the morning back to the shantytown in Gauteng where she stays. The old woman had come to visit her family for a few days and was returning now.

  She is a Sangoma and Bert was not the only one in the house who saw blood on the windows. The old body trembled as if she knew what was going to happen. She made no move to escape.

  Like a sleepwalker Bert reached the top of the stairs and started his way down.

  In the middle of the wooden stairs a loud crack sounded as Bert put his weight down.

  He froze.

  Like a Chameleon he started moving again, slowly... The hardness in his crotch became painful…aching for relief. The aching purple head seemed grotesque as it danced in the shadows on the wall.

  Bert’s shadow started to get a shape of his own. It was not Bert with the big stomach anymore.

  The figure against the wall was that of an old bent-over man. One leg seemed to be supported by a stick held with knobby hands. In the gloom you can make out the big warts on the body, which now seemed to grow larger in the night as the lightening outside cast new shadows against the walls.

  Step by step they went down. Not one anymore but two; the man and his Ancient Shadow.

  At the door of the little room he stood for a moment. He did not touch the round knob that stuck out.

  His shadow did and slowly it turned.

  The door opened with a squeak.

  xxxx

  Rob looked down at the remains of a family’s dream. Not too nice, he thought.

  Tracy. Beautiful Tracy was found by one of the searchers.

  Merely a memory of her former beauty remained however, hard even to identify, they said. Rob noted that her body was blue and stiff. Her eyes were cut out and there were huge holes in their place. Even the lids were removed.

  He had to look away for a moment, to see something green and beautiful before he could continue to look at this carnage. Ugh, Rob gulped, why do we all have to be so… soft and squishy. This was all too familiar… I tried to get away from this… Rob’s eyes blurred over.

  By the time they received the third note Rob and Detectives Crup and Mallory felt like a dynamic trio. Rob’s knowledge of historic serial criminal history in California came in handy and his willingness to take notes during interviews won some “friendship points” with the Detectives. He hadn’t told them that he was assembling all the information for a book – by the time this case was solved Rob would be able to publish before anyone else was able to catch up.

  Crup and Mallory used Rob and his paper to taunt the Archangel Killer a bit – testing their theory that the killer needed to feel superior and was judging each of them – and all of the victims for some perceived flaw. They tried to manipulate the Archangels movements through the newspapers coverage while they struggled to identify all of the victims lying in the morgue to find a connection.

  The spree was stretching over months now and it was taking a toll. Rob was working the case with the detectives and Beandre wasn’t happy about all the time away. Spencer was young, he got kisses when Daddy got home and Rob promised to make it up to him later.

  Now this, note three; what would this mean? More bodies … certainly.

  Mallory pulled on blue nylon gloves and opened the printed envelope- same mixed-font style.

  “What’s with this guy? Does he think this is a joke?” Detective Crup said as he read over the disjointed and jumbled looking note.

  Mallory waved over the Homicide Captain as Rob and Crup bent over the note. Rob snapped a picture with his smart phone. He turned his head trying to decipher the note from the angle on the other side of the desk.

  Crup looked up quickly at Rob and started shouting while Rob tried harder to focus on the note, recognizing something there, and reaching down to turn it towards his own eyes with his fingers. He didn’t bother to use a glove to touch it – for some reason he didn’t think it mattered anymore.

  Everyone around him was rushing, Mallory had picked up the phone at Rob’s elbow as his eyes focused and un-focused on the note. He looked up and it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion. Rob turned to say something to Mal who looked at him with wide-eyes, reaching out to him, but Rob seemed to be moving away.

  Rob reached toward Mallory, as the world turned cloudy and swirly. Rob’s knees buckled and he grabbed the desk with his arm to try to catch himself. His eyes fell upon the paper again and saw the name “Spencer.” Rob’s arm slid off the desktop and his body hit the floor.

  ****

  Rob shook his head to rid himself of the horror of the past to focus on the horror in front of him. Tracy. Squishy Tracy.

  She was eviscerated and something had already started eating at the wound across her midsection. When they pulled her up, the big men gagged and let the rope slip twice before they had the will to pull her out completely. Rob talked quietly with the town funeral director, taking notes as he pointed out one nasty detail to Rob after another. With sadness they covered her body and loaded her into the ambulance.

  With the search over, the teams dissembled and headed home. Peter and Beth spotted Rob near his bakkie and began to make their way over to him. Rob looked tired, but determined to report the news of what he was starting to call the Guardian Mountain Slayer.

  Catchy name, Rob thought, as he gathered his notes on the hood of his car. He saw Peter and Beth walking over in his peripheral vision, and he supposed they wanted the skinny on what had happened. I scratch your back, you scratch mine… Rob considered.

  He swung around casually, leaning against his dusty ride striking a pose suitable for a Rolex watch ad. His sandy colored hair was disheveled and sprinkled with silver streaks that would make most girls hands ache to run through it. He prepared a lopsided grin for Beth, knowing it would be wasted on her.

  “My dear…” he nodded in Beth’s direction, “Pete! Again we meet…You’ve both missed a particularly gruesome scene back there. Poor Tracey I’m afraid. Eish. Not good.” He shivered in spite of himself. “I think we have ourselves a spree-killer my friends! Someone who has the taste for blood. They like it. I can tell.” Rob continued, speaking like a circus ringmaster.

  As Peter opened his mouth to chastise Rob for his morose glee, there was a shout from the river’s edge.

  There seemed to be an explosion of activity, Commander Peens was on his phone, frowning and waving his sergeants over. The wind carried most of his words away, but Peter could tell it wasn’t good news. Rob was leaning in as well, trying to pick up a few tidbits of news. Peens spotted the group watching and turned his back as he questioned into the phone.

  “IN the pool?”

  The boys came down a slope and they could hear the river close by.

  It was just over the next hill, Danny thought to himself… nearly there…

  “Do you hear that?” Danny asked hopefully.

  “Yes, I have been hearing the drums for the last thirty minutes that we have been running!” Lucky said while trying to catch his breath.

  “No man! Not the drums! I could have sworn that I heard someone yell a few seconds ago. Listen, there it is again!”

  “Maybe they already know somehow! Maybe they are looking for us!” Let’s go faster.”

  He looked that way and saw two cops approaching a group of people near a beat up bakkie.

  “HEY, OVER HERE! HELP US!” Lucky shouted and they ran toward the scene.

  ****

  “Hey, we need to talk to you Jordan!” one of the cops was saying to Peter as the boys crested the hill and stumbled towards them.

  “Peter!” Danny shouted.

  Peter did not recognize him at firs
t because he was covered in a blanket of orange clay-mud and dust from sliding down the mountainside.

  “Danny? What the hell is going on?”

  Ignoring the policemen Peter went straight to Danny and Lucky. “What happened? You look a mess!”

  Both Danny and Lucky fell to the ground and Beth shouted for someone to bring the EMT worker from the volunteer group and some water. Everyone set into motion, tending to the boys; torn and in shambles.

  Peter was already checking their vital signs and searching for the source of all the blood. Rob and the cops began peppering the boys with questions while Peter looked at them questioningly, looking for the cuts, or holes that would produce such copious blood loss. Beth covered them both with a blanket to prevent shock from setting in; she let her hands rest on their backs, reassuringly. Naturally nurturing, she had no idea both teens had fantasized about Beth throughout their puberty.

  Lucky and Danny, finally safe, sat wide eyed and traumatized, sex the farthest things from their mind now. Danny started to talk, but quickly began crying, then sobbing. Lucky began praying a Zulu call for protection, trying to block out the gruesome image he saw in the woods.

  Rob looked at Peter intently and mouthed “what’s going on?”

  He stepped back from the boys and jotted in his notebook Latest attack of the Guardian Mountain Slayer…Rob scratched at his chin and glanced back at the bloodied and shaken kids before him. One man couldn’t do this…it’s got to be a gang, he thought, making a mental note to share his theory with Commander Peens later.

  Chapter 13

  In The Soda shop, isolated from the outside reality of the village by the ethereal curtains of blood, Bert was busy humping the old Sangoma.

  The Sangoma was chanting her part of this ritual, ancient and horrible. With open legs she greeted her lover, whom she saw as her young Warrior Prince, moistening her petals so he could slide into her and claim his prize.

  Bert saw the old woman as his princess – his maiden sacrifice, and her tight, virgin rose. Her tight rose milked his like a fisted hand until a hot gush of life flowed into her, which she accepted as an offering.

  An offering for the ancestors!

  A life quickened inside her at a rate that would only result in a soulless creature.

  As it did the chaos of the spirit world broke free and announced itself with the breaking of glass and the bursting of signage in the windows. The gas grill in the kitchen turned on and off by itself. And then it was over.

  The blood on the windows vanished as if it never was.

  Outside the morning started to break and birds were chirping all over as they looked for scraps in the street. Unaware of the event that just occurred inside the little shop.

  Within minutes the fetus was almost identifiable as a centimeter sized baby.

  With the act now complete, the Ancient warrior returned to his resting place and Bert collapsed on top of the old woman with a groan. He was asleep almost immediately while the sangoma struggled to get out from underneath him.

  A Police car moved slowly past the shop.

  “I wonder what is happening at the Kraukamp farm?” the one cop said while chewing on a chocolate bar.

  “Yeh. Everyone is up there and we have to look after the damned town,” the radio interrupted them.

  “Charlie 6, Charlie 6, come in for Bravo 1.” The radio crackled.

  The passenger cop took the hand piece and replied to the dispatcher.

  As Bert fell to the ground with a loud thud the cop car sirens screamed through the air and lights played disco on the interior of the shop. It sped off with screaming tires in the direction of Pierre’s farm almost colliding with the corpse wagon that was speeding in the same direction.

  Bert lay in the position that he had fallen while the Sangoma started to pack her small bag of belongings. She clutched her stomach and smiled as a cramp spasm through her body.

  Outside the shop she waited for a taxi to take her back to Gauteng. She could feel the thing growing inside her old body while she murmured to her ancestors.

  Daniel was sitting in front of Peter, tears in his eyes as he tried to talk.

  “Bring the boy some water,” Peter told Beth as he tried to assure Daniel that they were safe.

  “David and Tubby… they’ve… been killed.” Lucky said after a while. Rob leaned in closer; pen in hand, mouth agape.

  Daniel could feel his body shaking, suddenly believing everything he had seen.

  Beth handed the boys water, concern showing on her face.

  The four men in the circle reacted as one when the drums began playing in the distance.

  Dum dumdumdum dum dumdum dum dummdum

  The fear was explicit on Danny and Lucky’s faces as Peter stood up again to try and hear where the sound was coming from. Rob also began looking around for the source of the sound, but couldn’t place it. Beth noticed a change in their attitude and tried to hear what they appeared to be listening too, but heard nothing.

  “What is it??” she asked excitedly

  No one answered.

  “Where’s it coming from?” Rob asked, ear to the sky. “What IS that?” Rob asked again, looking at Peter, then at Beth, “You don’t hear it?” Rob turned in a circle, trying to place it, identify it and make it-make sense.

  The drums slowly faded into the distance as if they were a dream.

  “Huh.” Rob said, matter-of-factly, taking out his pen and pad and jotting a note. “Interesting…” he added, looking up from his notes at Peter and Beth, his hair in his eyes making him look too sexy to be smart. Drums… he noted in his book.

  Station Commander Peens walked over to the group with a grimace. He was a tall man, with a confident presence. Peens loved this village and knew most of the people in it personally. The son of the former Station Commander, his family had been protecting this community for over 75 years. The area hadn’t seen a mess like this in 50.

  “Can you guys tell us what happened?” Peen asked as he approached the small group.

  Rob stepped forward and opened his mouth, about to regale his audience with a replay of the previous events with his infamous story-telling skills but was immediate silenced by one stern look from Commander Peens.

  “Oh,” Rob said softly and shuffled backwards in an endearing manner while Danny stood up and slowly related the whole incident. While he was talking a sergeant took down his statement.

  Everyone was shocked at what they heard and more help was called in over the radio. Rob was voraciously note-taking while never once looking at his paper, his eyes locked on Danny while he told each and every unbelievable detail of his night.

  This kid got some bad weed, Rob considered, but what of the other victims? Who could be doing this? Why? Rob tried to formulate his morning’s column, but he couldn’t possibly write the story he was hearing from these kids.

  GUARDIAN MOUNTAIN SLAYER STRIKES AGAIN Rob could see the headline in his mind. The national press was going to pick up this story now, Rob was sure of it. Not that yesterday’s story about the two teens wasn’t bad enough, but now this? Possibly FOUR? Serial killer. Something wicked was at work for sure, and the whole world was going to want to know about it. Fuck, the Ex-wife was gonna track his ass down now… Rob’s mind reeled.

  Peen dictated orders to his second in command clearly and calmly. Peter was impressed with how quickly he absorbed all the unbelievable information. He was throwing everything he had at this case. A search dog was called in as well as a helicopter from Durban.

  “Johan’s Father, Pierre is dead – presumed dead. We found an arm in the family pool. The rest of him is still missing.” Peens confided to Peter and Rob quietly. “I’ve never seen anything like this in this town…” he scratched his face tiredly.

  Rob pulled out his notebook again and started asking questions about Pierre. Peens shut him down with a look. “Rob, later- please, that family has been through enough. I wouldn’t even know what to tell you yet…”

 
; The sun was starting to go down, casting a red glow over the ridge of the mountain which seemed to glower angrily at everyone standing next to the dam.

  Big John ran over to the growing group of police and gossips and grabbed Lucky in his arms. The fear in his eyes could be seen clearly as he shook his head.

  “I, hu...” Big John was at a loss of words. They cried in each other’s arms, and then John and his son exchanged some quiet words. John nodded his head. It was all making sense to John now, and he needed to talk to Peter quickly now.

  ****

  A team was organized to start sweeping the area for the Guardian Mountain Slayer and the Station commander took some of his troop to where the incident happened.