The 13th Man–Chapter 1

Rebirth of the Beast

I believe in curses. The power of human emotions scream into words and then will comes into action to change history. I didn’t do anything. It came to me the same way night comes to you uninvited, We have become a magnetic matter to vulnerability. Still, I knew I am a mastermind of my own actions.


I hate to start the story with consummation of one’s soul or with liturgical sayings about death. Death experienced twice is the worst you could imagine—death of natural physiology and mind’s ability to recognize emotions. My last recollection of emotion stings like a million needles fathomed by a major heart attack with sustainable breathing. While turmoiled inside, my eyes forced a waterfall of poisoned sweat. It fell without remorse, without regards to my command. He killed me. But he killed himself first with a gun falling prey of the curse. I have feared that moment. His guts was unbeatable though with so much passion. That night, he suddenly stopped from maneuvering hips clashing to mine. We were breathless. I could feel his heartbeat from the weight wrapped against my nakedness. My face drifted away from his stare,


“What’s wrong? Why are you distant?” he whispered. That breath burning my skin.


“I am here. For your taking.” I couldn’t hear myself. I was focused on getting it finished. His hand moved my face confronting his look, thumb running through my lower lip.


“You really don’t see it, do you? I can get this anytime I want. I want you. I want your mind.. and this.” His palm buried deep into my chest. The voice became more determined, parading a chain to imprison my will.. I meant to break it.


“Can we just go back? This is not cool. This is not a movie for God’s sake!” A satire often works best in diverting seriousness of moment such as this. But then..he cannot be withered.

His lips suddenly touched mine. I was eager to keep him there for the sake of ending the conversation. But he’s smart enough to pull me away as soon as he realizes what I was doing.


“I love you.” It was simple. Confusing. “I don’t know where you came from or how you’ve been. What matters to me is that you’re spending the rest of your lives with me starting from now. I beg you to take this ring” It was stunning. Among all other proposals I’ve seen or heard– that of media oriented redefining classic reality movie, or one that has meant to trample my beastly nature, this is the truest. In darkness, the slightest tingling light tried to seep in. Whirlwind of emotions decide to settle inside until I can make a quick decision. I didn’t even notice that ring dangling from his neck since the first time we met passed on to my finger. I’m doing it again..doing a long talk inside my head..


“Tell me something,” he sounded like someone who could never be stopped by no.


“Uhmm.. There are few things to tell before lifetime.. and I don’t even know if that exists,” Now I got the court seat. “If you really mean what you said, then I’d be happy to spend the future with you without hearing any questions about my past.” He paused for a moment before mustering sense from conditional relationship.


”Do what you need to do. I’m gona be here to protect you whatever it takes.”


I was to protect him but I didn’t. I grasped at the first opportunity to become human. Elena told me that mankind was given free will to decide his fate. Those who were sent by heaven in physical form only live for one purpose. They cannot hide nor run away. Universe will connive to lead them back to their sole path—to prepare mankind for the Creator’s coming. The messenger. The warrior. The pastor. Their qualities are perfected to perform a role passed on to their bloodline. But of course, to me, these are only one of her campfire stories carried on exclusively within the family. At least she could have been famous for it.


I left that night as soon as I found him in the bath tub showered in his blood. What was I thinking? I knew it would happen. I had to remove every trace of my existence. Fingerprints, text messages and calls, sim cards, clothes, my hair and then the last of this routine..a transformation. No one would figure out. My identity has always been devoid and unknown.


I got twelve bloods on my hands now.


My name is Mikolai. I have lived alone for 17 years. No family or whatsoever. I deprived myself for the sake of history. It’s not a palate you would want to hear nor witness. The only life known to me was being around my grandmother Elena who passed away when I was 14. It was the same time I realized the ironic connection of death and rebirth. My mother was a mistress, who practically died giving birth. Father disappeared into plasma dimension called cowardice. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate them. You can’t hate someone you don’t know.


Just enough inheritance gave me a piece to start a new identity. There are several essentials to remain unidentified or simply to hiding. New acquaintance would always ask about family background and childhood history. It is important to come up with simplest story that ends further inquiries such as death. Life experience should stick with safe facts to sustain consistency. So my version of the story is–family died from a car accident and I was born or grew up geographically far from actual place. Next is to keep a ready paraphernalia for making identification cards—a laptop, scanner, cutter, and laminating machine. It would be difficult to eliminate any government records and for such, it is important to keep away from jobs that require prolonged interaction. Eventually, the catastrophic convenience of web which had become a comfort zone of hackers, criminal preys and sociopaths brought me the same financial bread as a ghost writer. Third among your tools is to prepare a geographical map of the cities separated by miles. The busier the city is, the better. Only thing that gets in the way are sensible hungry noses of media. Finally, you have to learn how to change. Embrace a different personality. Learn a new language and accent. This isn’t much of a worry with existing predicament.


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Abby Mabb

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