REELS

Derek's POV:

The yellow orb radiated from the east, scorching everything that moved and didn't move beneath it. It was ironic, as bright as the day was, it carried a heavy darkness. Legs moved ever so slowly, forbearing the sting on their soles, collision of weighty chains was deafening, but numb men could not commend it. It was the suffering after all. If only these days could have been aforementioned, perhaps there could have been better preparation...for escape. I looked at all the victims and smirked. This was what he was into. Almost reminded me of myself.

An unforeseen predicament, caused by deceived ears, a foreboding situation thrust into with the anticipation of a delightful escapade. Lies, betrayal, agony...what were they still living for? What was I still living for in my past? That was the way I used to feel. This was how life was going to be, it had assured the slaves of that. For years had I been on this type of devastating venture that made me question my sanity. I had haters that I didn't make. My father did and yet I was to bear the repercussions of it.

I still had no idea of how I managed to get through those unbearable moments, for I had witnessed humans drop dead while they journeyed, unable to forebear the anguish laced with every movement when they had no energy to sustain them. I noticed one of the victims, his throat craved water or any form of liquid. There was a pothole with dirty water ahead...he rubbed the upper part of his mouth with his tongue. He unconsciously moved faster regardless of the pain he was probably feeling.

This was the life of the mafia. We trafficked, we sold drugs, we did all sorts of illegal things. I'd made many of the women my sex slaves and disposed of them when I thought them useless. I didn't care what happened to them after. This was the life I lived. And we hired these slaves to traffick drugs for us. As they brought the men in, one of them fell to his knees and crawled swiftly without much balance to the pothole filled with muddy water and was about to drink when two strong hands pulled him away. He sluggishly fought back...nevertheless, his skinny dark figure was thrust to the rocky ground. He struggled to get the whips from meeting his skin, but with wasted effort, he curled himself up and accepted his fate.

Where I wasn't in the city anymore. I was somewhere deserted, where I couldn't be caught doing this type of thing by anyone. I watched as this man got beat up. Nobody could help him, all their hands were tied. Watching these traffickers lashing without mercy, uttering words that couldn't be understood. The man whimpered till he couldn't anymore...instead, he lay still.

One of the traffickers took water, and poured it on him, causing him to jolt slightly upwards. The thirsty man watched as they carried him to his feet, with the chains in his hands and legs colliding, his body trembled as he got back to the line and proceeded forward with the others.

The thirsty man shuddered with frustration and bitter tears threatening to fall. He brought this upon himself, he should have known better. Now his past was coming back to haunt him. How could he have been so gullible? Momentarily, he forgot he was thirsty, till the corner of his eyes caught the gleaming mud water he was now passing by. His eyes widened at the sight whilst he swallowed saliva. He knew the consequences, but he was too desperate to care.

He hurried to the mud water and began drinking, not considering how it tasted. He was almost violently yanked away, but he was too stubborn to listen. He needed water, they could kill him for all he cared, what he so desperately wanted...was water. He choked on the water when an unexpected blow landed on his back. He coughed violently, but the hits kept coming, the whip hit his skin. It reminded me of my father... and the cuss words kept filling my ears along with 'son of a ....', 'you have a death...'.

I became numb as I watched this man clench his jaw when the whip hit his face. He felt a warm liquid, slid down his face and dropped to the ground. He felt safe where he was...as though the earth had embraced him with warm hands...yes, he was ready to succumb to the welcoming hands of where his body once laid before it was formed. His vision dimmed, and he fell into total oblivion.

He beamed at the figures standing before him. They were so generous and even offered to take him home, being that had lost his way. He noticed the figures nodding to themselves before one of them took him by the hand and began to escort him back to his hometown.

It all happened too fast. The camels that sprinted past, the men yelling out words, the flame encompassing his village. He once again fell to his knees at the sight of his hometown being engulfed by flames. His family...friends...all the people he loved were there, and none of them survived. He felt hands grip his collar from behind and he held on to it to catch his breath, but the hand gripped it even tighter.

‘You killed your family.’ The familiar voice echoed in my head causing me to shake my head vigorously. Fuck not again. ‘You killed your parents.' The voice repeated. Now the lad was gasping for air as the hand only got tighter. Though he managed to get the word 'I...' but was unable to complete his sentence. ‘You killed your parents...you don't deserve to live!’ I glanced at the choking man. He gasped once more, but this time, the hand was no longer choking him. It was as though he hadn't almost gotten choked to death a second ago. He touched his neck to affirm....there was no bruise, no pain or sting. He glanced upwards to find himself somewhere better than he had moments before.

I glanced at the man that wanted to work with us. There was that smug look on his face as he looked at the women. I knew what his plan was. I knew what it was that he intended to do with them. Buy one and use her as a sex toy for his sex appeal. I watched him as he looked at each one of them lustfully. But my mind was on what he really wanted.

Lamas Mendez wasn't a simple man.