plume of flame appeared around Dolorita, orange and yellow in colour, highlighting her peaceful frame for a few seconds and then she began to burn and shrivel. The sight of the twisting, blackening body turned the stomachs of her heartbroken ex-colleagues. The lid had been deliberately left off to allow the body to burn rather than be incinerated and to let the others view the spectacle. Suddenly, a thick sheet of flame shot through the burning mass and the Sister disappeared, becoming part of the fuel for the fire. The lid was hoisted into place and left for it to complete the operation as normal.
A low murmuring came from the gathered crowd and this increased in volume and intensity until it was back to the blood curdling shrieking and roaring of before. The villagers surged forward to the captives, stopping a couple of feet from them, the noise continuing unabated. The stamping of feet began again, striking even more terror into the shivering trio. The noise and threat was awful.
Then, of all people, Ignatious saw his friend, Karakta, step forward and begin to jab his spear into the unprotected body of Christian. Jab, jab, jab, jab; chest, abdomen, thighs, arms; jab, jab, jab; feet, knees, testicles. The screaming brought tears to Ignatious’s eyes and he wept unashamedly.
Ottomier, to his left, was uttering a strange, guttural sound, his eyes wide and rolling wildly, saliva sliding from the corners of his jaw.
A girl of around twelve stepped forward and stuck some pointed object into Ottomier’s midriff bringing a loud cry from him. Looking into his face, giggling, she stuck him again and again, targeting his arms and legs, the crowd urging her on. This was the signal for several other youngsters to step forward and begin stabbing and cutting the helpless victims. The only one not included was, of course, Ignatious.
Christian was brought more into the horrendous display of violence, adults and children alike using him to vent their anger and clearly deriving sadistic pleasure from it. Ignatious was powerless to shut out the terrible screams of his companions.
The suffering went on and on, flaming torches and smouldering twigs being used in addition to the stabbing and cutting. The blood lust was plain to see in the eager faces of the tormentors, whether they be young or old. The genital area of Ottomier came in for prolonged treatment, his cries and screams serving only to encourage. Even if a miracle should occur and he be freed, he would never again be able to use that part of his body for pleasure.
The hot sun rose to its zenith, painfully burning the naked bodies of the missionaries, there being no shade to protect them. As if at a given signal, the torture ceased and the tribespeople moved away to their homes, presumably for the mid-day meal.
Turning to his friend, Christian, Ignatious was shocked to see his condition. He hung limply as far as his bonds would allow, pieces of flesh hanging from him, his body blackened where he had been burned, open wounds seeping blood. From head to toe, he was a damaged mess. Mercifully, he had lost consciousness at some period in the torture, but the trembling, incoherent babbling continued. Parts of his scalp were raw and bleeding where the hair had been torn from him, flies already settling on the seeping wounds.
Ignatious looked to the heavens, forlornly beseeching his Creator to free he and his companions from this hell. Receiving no immediate salvation, he swivelled his head to look at Ottomier. The man, the sinner who had brought this horror upon the religious group, was in a similar condition to Christian, with the added pain of having the eye nearest to Ignatious, reduced to an open, bleeding socket and an ear torn away. One of his feet was still smouldering, a thin plume of smoke curling lazily upwards, where the foot had previously been set alight. The blubbering and salivating was a constant accompaniment to the groans of Father Christian, further along the line.
The torture was resumed in the early evening when both injured men had recovered to some extent. The agony was made worse by the injuries providing fertile targets for the cruel treatment. Although Ignatious was left completely alone in all this, the torture he suffered was of a mental kind, creating scars that, if he managed to live, would remain with him for ever.
The sun had begun to set before the agonies finally ended for that day, the victims being expertly kept alive. The only relief, of a sort, reached by Ignatious was to use the power of his brain to lift him to a higher plane and also to keep away the incessant attacks from the winged insects that plagued the blood-soaked humans. However, this wasn’t something he could maintain indefinitely and he was forced to endure periods of suffering until his mind was strong enough to temporarily free him once more.
Shortly after sunrise, it all began again, the tribe seemingly tireless in their mission. The only break came when the cremation of the murdered girl, Ka-Lauma took place but the event had the effect of heightening the desire of the tribe to hurt the perpetrators. How Christian and Ottomier stayed alive seemed a sick miracle in itself but this was due to the expertise of the persecutors, following centuries of experience.
It was on the fourth day that a change occurred. The villagers came from their dwellings as usual at sunrise, painted as before but carrying no weapons of any kind. An unnerving quietness descended on the villagers and they sat in a huge semi-circle before the almost mindless prisoners. Four chosen men then stepped forward, two of whom were carrying small wooden boxes, measuring approximately ten inches by eight and around five inches deep. They stood in twos before the miserable prisoners; one with a box and one without. What good eyes the priests possessed stared transfixed at the boxes before them, sensing something evil and dangerous. The lids were lifted to reveal a scurrying mass of small insects, which the priests easily identified as the poisonous Fire Ants. An involuntary shudder coursed through their bodies, and this included Ignatious.
With ceremonial aplomb, the men with the free hands dipped in and grabbed a handful each. They held the busy insects under the noses of their captives for several seconds, allowing the fear to increase as their minds imagined what was about to happen. The hands moved nearer and then sprinkled the insects onto the shoulders of the quaking men.
Like greyhounds released from the trap, the ants sped over the bruised and torn flesh, exploring the open wounds, biting as they went, scurrying into the warm holes of the ears and nostrils, doing their damage there, also. Ottomier endured the added horror of having the dreadful creatures invading his open eye socket. To the men, it was like having razors slid across their injuries and the screeching began again. In seconds that seemed like hours, the bodies jerked and shuddered in agony as the poisons hit their systems. The mouths that opened to cry out became immediately filled with nasty, biting ants, some speeding down their throats.
One of the tribesmen then brushed away all that could be seen, using a large frond from the abundant ferns that covered the area. They then sat with the rest to watch and enjoy the suffering of Christian and Ottomier.
The bound pair cried and screamed in their unconsciousness, the pain being so severe as to register through the insensible state, the life slowly being drained from them.
As death seemed imminent, and soon, one of the four rose and went to the twitching victims, pressing the compressed-air syringe against their arms. The figures stopped the pained movements and became instantly relaxed, remaining in an unconscious state, the poisons quickly surrendering to the potent antidote.
During that day, Christian and Ottomier were subjected to various injections, administered by use of the reed needles. The effect of these was varied in reaction and intensity, as the drugs that were applied caused muscle spasms and, at other times, frightening hallucinations.
Following the regular pattern, the villagers returned home for their mid-day meals before resuming the entertainment an hour or so later. In between the action, Ignatious was given pure, clear water to slake his intense thirst — an unexpected act of mercy.
On returning for the afternoon session, the villagers sat, as before, in a large semi-circle, while one of their number administered the mind-bending drugs to Christian and Ottomier. As the day dragged towards evening, with both tortured priests nearing the end, their bodies in a sickening mess, their minds in a fury of terror, Ignatious’s friend, Karakta, stood before what was left of Father Christian, holding a timber box, similar in size to the ones before, which he set on the ground. Bending to the box, he lifted the lid, reached in and brought out a large ant, one much bigger than the Fire Ants. This was recognised by Ignatious as a Giant Amazon Ant — a deadly species. He held the wriggling creature in his hand, holding it aloft to the cheers of the onlookers. After allowing time for all to see and applaud, he proceeded to place it at the base of Christian’s neck, letting its legs beat a fast rhythm on the bare flesh where it created several nasty little scratch marks. Karakta then let go of the ant. Immediately it was free, the dreadful insect bit into Christian’s neck before speeding away around his head, biting
