Tainted Teardrops [Book no.1- Dhatins of 3030 Indonesia] ✔

02 | the impeccable dismisser of Blight dhatins

~Kersen's POV, present, a few days ago~

According to my father, Galep, I'm doing my job as a dismisser right.  And, when I mean by to do right or not to do right, I mean by punishment. I don't want to be whipped again by the likes of Galep, and because I don't want to be whipped... I must refuse to look them in the eyes.

But while their screams plagued the hallways, and the stench of bile and blood clogs my nostrils, I can't help but feel the need for pity. 

" There is no room for pity, as a dismisser of those vile creatures," Galep snapped, as he barked orders to his men to take her away. 

I simply nodded in approval, as I bit down on my lower lip, the blood seeping, I licked it. In vain, I couldn't seem to understand the purpose of why we had to execute the dhatin of Blights. After all, in all my eighteen years of life, my father's business has always been shrouded in mystery, and I've never been allowed to even as ask why.

" Yes, father," I respond, in a formal, curt manner. I straighten my jacket and try my hardest to not look the child in the eyes.

There's not much to gain out of an unpleasant person and situation, but I gained much more experience in the punishment and likeliness of why they had inclined, to punish such an innocent-but so very stupid- soul. Why, in fact, I don't understand the meaning of this. A soul made out of the putrid vomit stain flowing down the side of her brown, ragged patched-up dress. A dress that she refused to clothe upon her and complained about its itching fibers the instant she tried it on. This little dhatin of Blight girl, she was taken from her family from the Dismouth forests, and is now going to be sent away to the dismissal slaughter camps.

" Good, my boy. Now, you remember the drill don't you?" Galep said, as he and I continued to walk down the hallways of the Asylum, otherwise known as the ORBV. His black leather boots click-clank against the white marbled tiles, as the sound of his cane made of dhatin of Blight bones thump thumped against the floors. His salt and grey pepper hair, now balding, has been covered by a red velvet magician's hat, with a string of dhatin bones etched into the rim of the hat. Some hanging pieces of baby bones and eyeballs hang down from the rim, and clanked against each other, producing a harmonious sound, that didn't come from a pleasant origin.

" Yes. The dismissal starts at 2:45 pm, right, father?" 

" Yes, 2:45 pm sharp. You better be there fifteen minutes early, for I must speak to you of something of importance," Galep rasped, and then he barked out to one of the dismissers, " Tighter! You bastard! She's getting away!" 

" But sir!" The dismisser called out, but then, he is... Dead.

Galep shoots his head, and grabs his face, saying, " Ah, well... I just lost another good dismisser. Kersen, take him away." 

" Yes, father!" And quickly, I'm about to carry out the dead body, but then... I see something much more terrifying than the blood spill: Tears.

****

Just because you are forced to do something, it doesn't mean that you have been forced out of control. The little girl was summoned to the asylum when the moment I received the call. The call that determined both of our destinies. What I call our "destinies" were the woven pasts of both of our history to be revealed on that bleak and un-tasteful afternoon.

But, little did I know, that today wasn't just any ordinary day of dismissals. 

****