Dying A Dirty Death

Social Issues

  • Author Mohammed Dahala Mutala
  • Published November 4, 2023
  • Word count 781

As the body hanged on the barbed and electrified fence wall, with gouged eyes still hanging out of the eye socket while the screwdriver was still stuck in the other eye, puss dripping at about fifteen seconds for every drop, the policewoman was struck by the sheer brutality of the murder. The victim's face was contorted in a grimace of agony, and his jaw was slackened as if frozen in a silent scream. The policewoman noticed that the victim's eyelid had been pierced by a sharp object, leaving a hole big enough for an index finger to fit through. This suggested that the killer had used a knife or a similar weapon to inflict this gruesome injury. The fact that the victim's eyes were gouged out and the screwdriver was still lodged in his eye socket further reinforced the idea that the murder was a deliberate and premeditated act of violence.

As the policewoman finally gathered enough strength to summon her team to collect the dead body, the corpse's jaw suddenly dropped, prompting her to look closer. She noticed that the victim's teeth were clenched together in a tight grimace as if he had been trying to bite down on something during the final moments of his life. This detail, combined with the other injuries, suggested that the victim had been subjected to an intense and prolonged struggle before finally succumbing to his injuries. The policewoman's heart raced as she took in the full extent of the victim's injuries. She had seen her fair share of gruesome murders, but this one was different. The sheer brutality and premeditation of the act left her feeling sickened and outraged. She knew that she would have to summon all of her professionalism and experience to piece together the events of the crime and bring the perpetrator to justice.

As she peered into the open mouth, she was met with a gruesome sight: the tongue was nowhere to be found, and three of the premolars were missing, while two others were neatly placed in a pair of scissors (an indication of foul play and a deliberate attempt to inflict pain). As the team gathered around the lifeless body, carefully placing it on the stretcher, an inexplicable urge compelled the inspector to roll the body over and examine its back. What she beheld at that moment sent shivers down her spine, for the attackers had gruesomely divided the back in half and extracted the intestines. The manner in which the dissection had been carried out hinted at the use of a weapon other than a sharp blade, as the incisions appeared jagged, and it seemed evident that considerable effort had been exerted to pry open the back. In an instant, her thoughts were transported back to a haunting memory from her past - the Caesarean section she had undergone during the birth of her third child.

Despite the utmost professionalism and meticulous medical care, and even with the administration of anaesthesia to numb the pain, the individuals undergoing surgery could still perceive the sharp sensation as the surgeon made the incision in their lower abdomen. The pain intensified to an unbearable level along the bikini line, leaving a lasting impression of agony. This traumatic experience was so close to death that she vowed never to subject herself to it again.

Several hours after the safe delivery of the baby, with the umbilical cord clamped and the newborn handed over to the mother, a wave of excruciating pain washed over her. Alongside this physical torment, she experienced blackouts and caught glimpses of ghostly faces, which cast an ominous shadow over her well-being. In the midst of her contemplation over her encounter, she experienced a gentle touch on her shoulder, causing her to nearly lose control of her emotions. At that moment, her initial assumption was that the deceased had somehow returned to communicate with her about the circumstances surrounding his demise. She sensed that the departed soul yearned for her to delve deeper into the events leading up to his untimely passing, believing that he did not deserve such a fate. It was as if he sought justice for the abrupt truncation of his life. Within the confines of her mind, she grappled with a whirlwind of intricate thoughts, each vying for attention but offering little guidance on how to unravel the mystery of this murder.

As she turned to face the body that touched her shoulder, a chill ran down her spine when she saw a piece of paper clutched in the corpse's hand. The message etched on it sent a shiver down her spine: "We will not stop until we kill your twin brother, too."

My name is Mohammed Dahala Mutala. I am a ghost-writing blogger, Health and Safety Trainer and freelancer. My quest to make a living from words has been heavily influenced by my HSE background where I craft workplace safety articles, blog posts, and procedures for clients across industries.

As you engage my services you are not only hiring a ghostwriter; you are assured of a storyteller who makes your vision visible on pages. I try to make my words illuminate the lives of many in my writing.

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