Chapter 5c

Mandy

I started going out with Jefri after I dumped Vince just before he left the house. I can't remember his name or his face, but I'm sure he rented the third floor. I don't see Vince any more. He avoids me like I have a bad disease or something. Sometimes I have flashes of something happening between me and ... Fuck, why can't I remember his face or his name. Anyway, I started going out with Jefri. Jefri was the cute guy I mentioned when ... when ... I can't remember what. I try to remember but it just doesn't happen. It's like trying to grab an eel. Every time you think you've got it, it wriggles out of your hand.

Funny thing though, Vince doesn't come round anymore. Whenever I see him he crosses the street to the other side. He doesn't even try to talk to me. I think something happened between us but I can't remember what. All I know is he and his gang keep me at a distance. But if looks could kill, I'd be dead meat. I wonder why they're so scared of me.

Fuck them! Anyway, Jefri was cute at first and it was fun going out with someone with plenty of money. He liked to act like he was Malaysia's Michael Jackson. His father was a datuk and rich and Jefri spent money like there was no tomorrow. But soon he began to treat me like I was his pet cow — sole proprietorship and all that shit. What is it about these pricks that they think people can be owned? I should have listened to Aunty Philo. She said some guys get possessive after a while. Even after they dump you, they still think of you as property and Jefri was one of those. Well, fuck a duck. He should be so lucky.

Then he began to hint that I should give his friends a round or two — like I was his whore. His friends were sniggering and making all kinds of bad jokes about passing me from one guy to the next. I really got fed up with their dirty talk. Very soon they began to grab my tits and my ass. When I told Jefri he just laughed.

"Come on, Mandy. Be a good sport."

I knew it was time to end this shit. They were planning to make me their whore.

It came to an end at the Hotel Lagenda. I was outside the entrance when this Porsche came rumbling by. There was a guy in the Porsche with a Chinese chick and he stared at us as he drove by slowly. I swear I seen him before. The Porsche went to the car park and I told Jefri that it was all over between him and me.

"What do you mean it's all over," he snarled at me. "It's over when I say it's over. Get my drift?"

"Fuck you, Jefri, and your pencil dick. No one tells me who I go out with. Why don't you bend over and let Omar stick it up your back hole? Maybe you guys should play musical backsides."

I wasn't paying attention to how he was taking this. A small crowd of people at the front door watched the show with big smiles on their faces. One guy even yelled, "That's telling him where to get off sister." I didn't stop there.

"If you think you can pass me around those assholes," I went on, "then go stick your pimply dick in some other hole. I'm sick of you and your macho mania. If you think I am something you can pass around like a football you better think again."

I was too mad to think straight. Gave him a proper telling off before I dumped him, which was a huge mistake. Doing it in front of his cronies was a major face loss for him.

I marched off to the car park to get away from there. Jefri followed me raving like a maniac. He cornered me near my car and began yelling at me and using abusive language. He started to slap me around. I remember someone intervening and being driven to the Concorde where I managed to get a taxi which took me to my apartment. I had about a month before the rent was due and Jefri wasn't going to pay the rent.

About a week later I noticed that I was being followed. Sometimes it was that Porsche and other times it was some tough looking characters in a Proton Wira. I drove the Honda as much as I could. OK, so it was Jefri's Honda. Too bad he put it in my name and paid for the instalments. So I reckoned I'd use the bloody thing until the hire purchase guys repossessed the car. No way he was going to continue the instalments. But I didn't think that he would get even nastier. I made him lose face and I should have known he would take revenge for the insult.

It didn't take long for me to be sure. That black Porsche was following me around and three tough-looking guys were checking me out. It was real scary — first the Porsche and then these tough guys. Still, I had a life and I just couldn't stay in all day and night. I had gone to the Bistro to meet some guys and talk with the girls on the night it happened. The three guys grabbed me as I was getting out of the car in the car park. They were all Malay guys and their eyes glittered like they were high on something. It could only be the worse kind of high, I realised.

"Let me go you bastards," I yelled. "Who the hell you think you are. I'll scream."

They grinned at me and laughed. I remember this guy's fist coming to meet my face and the next thing I was in a real creepy place. It was like an old factory or something and my face was one big hurt. It was really bad that night. They cut my face open in two places and they beat me up as well. Believe me, getting raped over and over again by three guys isn't funny at all. Then just as one of them was about to stick it up my ass, it happened all over again, like that time with Vince and his pals. But the beating and the rapes were just too much and I passed out.

When I woke up I was in a bed with Mr. Kaid looking down at me. It all came back to me in a rush. I remembered him and everything that had happened to me when I was attacked by Vince and his gang. I even remembered who saved me from being slapped around by Jefri at the car park. Everything came back to me — the good times when I was sixteen and when I thought Vince was the coolest. All my memories came flooding back and I smiled at him — my Mr. Kaid. My face was numb and patched up. I touched it carefully. It felt tender. I felt like I had been kicked between my legs. I was sore and hurting there, too. I held out my arms to him and he held me very gently.

Kaid

I was just a bit too late when the attack came. She had broken off with 'Michael Jackson' and his tender ego could not accept rejection. He hired some druggies to work her over. I almost lost her trail the night she was abducted and taken to an abandoned tin mine in Rawang. There were three of them and after they had beaten her senseless and disfigured her, they had taken turns raping her. I managed to find her because a trace of her essence had always remained with me. For some inexplicable reason I never lost that trace like I had with my other 'lovers' and it helped me find her just as the third hooligan turned her over on her face and got down between her legs.

This time I let the blood rage take me and I tore into them like a maddened leopard. I maimed the three before I killed them. I pulled out their tongues and then ripped off their genitals and kept the gory parts. I would have liked to keep them alive and in agony for hours but I had to get Mandy to a doctor. So I ripped open their bellies and pulled out their bowels and left them to die. She was bleeding severely so I applied some of my saliva to her wounds and that helped to staunch the bleeding. However, I still had to get her to a doctor. My saliva alone wouldn't heal her completely.

I realised that getting her to a regular doctor or to the emergency ward was out of the question. The doctors would ask for identification and the police would become involved when it was discovered Mandy had been raped and assaulted brutally. If the police were involved how was I to explain the three dead men back at the deserted tin mine.

I drove her to a doctor whose licence to practice had been revoked for relieving factory girls of their foetal embarrassments. He had been caught when one of his patients told on him. The last thing he would do was to report the matter to the police.

"She was a new one, that girl, and she was four months gone," he explained to me while he worked on Mandy. "Is she your daughter? Silly me, what made me think of that. Did you hurt your eyes? Hmm. They're very red, almost all red. Want some eye lotion? No? Hmm. Where was I? Oh, yes, the factory girl.

"Actually the abortion was a success, but she had been cheating on her husband and bit by bit the whole story came out and before you could say colonic lavage the police came round to my clinic and asked me to accompany them to the station to assist in their investigations. Apparently the husband beat her up pretty badly for her infidelity. I was lucky not to have gone to jail, but I was fined heavily. Of course, the MMA (Malaysian Medical Association) took away my license to practice, the stupid buggers."

He patched Mandy up and gave me antibiotics and tranquillisers for her, prescribing lots of rest. When he had done his job I paid him generously which included the cost of keeping his mouth shut.

I put the genitals in a sandwich bag (they were ripe by the time delivery was made) and sent it by despatch rider to the Datuk's son together with their owners' identity cards. Within days he was on his way to Europe for a holiday. My message terrified him. I knew that, because I listened to all the telephone calls going in and out of his house. I programmed my computer to selectively record all telephone calls to and from his house when I wasn't around. The deaths were shrugged off by the police as gangland killings, a normal practice when solving the crime was too much trouble or promised embarrassments in high places. The trio were registered bad characters with long charge sheets listing assaults and suspected contract killings.