Fiction: Support Your Local Rapist!

By Dan Dratz 

 

In a small town in the middle of nowhere, a suburban town with nothing of interest to see, he woke at early dawn to get ready for his day. 

In the streets, souls were scattered, all heading for the ceremony at the town hall. No sins should go unrewarded, and no man should escape the consequences of his actions. A shortcut in reasoning must had happened, for their laws differed from all those of before. The prize would go to the vilest of them, monstrosity seen as a gift rather than a fatal flaw to the human condition.

While putting on his tie, John thought back about the girl he had raped. It was all so long ago. He had never felt guilt for it; the clothes she wore, the way she looked, she had made him act upon his pulsion. He was not to blamed. He had never felt guilt, but he had been scared to go to jail, so he had disposed of her body after the act. He thought he had done a good job at it, too. But it was a small town, and everybody waved and smiled at one another, so when she disappeared, they all knew something was right, and they were not dumb people, those country folks, so they knew who to praise.

John closed the door of his house and headed for the town hall. On the walls of the streets the same posters appeared endlessly; a thumbs-up, with the words written above and under it, “Support your local rapist; don’t be a prude, be an elector!”. He smiled seeing those posters, them reaffirming his beliefs in himself all throughout the walk. He was a good man; he was not to blame. God and all the men in the sky would be proud of him. After all, God created us in his image, and John was a firm believer, so it must have been God who put him up to it.

The town hall was crowded by people and tables full of dishes, and all look rotten from the curtains to the fishes. As soon as he entered the room, John heard applauses, all smiles for him. He was chosen to represent this little town in the contest. There had been debate about which rapists to pick as a representant, but for the violence of his crime, John was ultimately picked. The mayor came up to him.

‘How are you feeling, Johnny?’

He was serving himself a plate of mac and cheese, the food almost orange, ‘Good sir, very good. A bit nervous, if I’m bland with you.’

‘Why is that?’

‘Well, who knows, maybe the next town has someone worse than me, I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint you fine folks is all.’

The mayor looked both surprised and shocked, and put his hand on John’s shoulder. ‘John, come on, don’t be ridiculous. You beheaded the girl. Most would simply end it with a blade to the heart or the throat, or a bullet, but you chose,’ he licked his lips, ‘poetry. That’s word. Poetry. You made your monstrosity poetic.’

John nodded. ‘Thank you, sir, but what about the rest of the contestants?’

‘Oh, they are vile, believe me, but not as much as you, if a measure can be made.’ He laughed. ‘Well, that’s why we are here, right?’ They both laughed. The mayor stopped suddenly, serious again. ‘No, but they are a bunch of amateurs. Some even let their victims can you believe that? Well, rather, they were lazy in my opinion, because they ended up killing themselves for the most part, but that’s just my opinion. No really, John, you’re taking the prize home, believe me.’ He straightened, ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, but I have to go see some folks.’

John finished his plate, grease around his mouth, which he didn’t wipe. He walked around the town hall, seeing from far away the other contestants, and the people who had come to support them. Jail wasn’t a worry anymore; it was a thing of the past. Lack of humanity was a necessity in this day and age, and the eternal pursuit of the ultimate had made those events an annual affair.

He went on to shake a few more hands and smile to others, all congratulating him for his what they deemed an accomplishment. The pastor came up to him.

‘Son, I just want to wish you luck. Our Heavenly Father has great plan for you, and I’m sure that in his heart, he wants you want to win.’

‘Thank you, father. I was thinking the same thing this morning,’

‘See?’ He smiled to him, ‘God wouldn’t let you think such thoughts if there were no rewards at the end of the line. Have faith, John.’

He patted him on the shoulder and left. A noise was heard from the speaker, a voice calling all participants to the stage.

He got there last. On the stage were two other men and one woman. John was afraid, so afraid of failing his town. He had never thought this whole thing would matter to him so much. He didn’t want to disappoint his people.

The mayor got on the stage, smiling to John, and seized the microphone.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today, same day as all years, to apply the words that were given to us. With me,’ and they all said ‘no sins shall go unrewarded’, their voices echoing through the room, applauses ensuing. The mayor waited for the noise to settle, and continued, ‘On our stage, here, we have some of the finest sinners from around our town, and even from our town,’ he laughed, winking at John, ‘but, only one them will be judged to be the best of them. Before you go vote, let me reintroduce them to you.’ He walked towards the first men, ‘What is your name?’

‘Frederic, sir.’

‘And what did you do, Frederic?’

‘I raped 2 kids, and left them to die in the woods.’

Applauses were heard, some standing up, other cheering.

‘Very well. What about you?’

‘My name is Cedric, and I had sex with a horse.’

Laughter ensued.

‘My name is Marcia, and I drugged a man I loved to have my way with him.’

Seductive whistles were heard, ‘Hey, he shouldn’t have been this handsome, am I right?’

Applauses, ‘that’s a good one’ someone yelled.

‘My name is Martin, and I raped a woman.’

No reactions. His crime wasn’t even that interesting for those folks. They should have let him talk first, one whispered to another, to build up the tension.

‘And finally, what about you?’ The mayor asked John, microphone in hand, all smiles and bubbly eyes.

He stuttered a bit, an innocent smile on his lips. ‘I raped my neighbor, and I, I…’

‘Yes?’

He licked his lips. ‘I…I don’t know.’

The mayor looked amused. ‘You’re shy?’

‘A bit, sir.’

He smiled to him, and just as fast, turned back to the crowd, ‘Well, my good folks, if you’d be so willing, you’ll find brochures under every one of your seats, explaining in great depths the acts of each of our contestants. Our Johnny, here, must feel a bit stressed, so you’ll just have to excuse him. Now, remember, don’t be a prude, be an elector!’ 

They cheered. ‘Now off to the ballots!’

John rushed to the restroom, vomiting all he had eaten. He didn’t feel bad for what he did, it wasn’t that. Maybe he had empathy for the other contestants. He knew he had done worse to the body than them, perhaps he simply didn’t want to brag in front of them. Yes, that was it. He was a kind man, a humble man, he didn’t want to hurt others, that was why he had stuttered and froze.

He came back from the bathroom just as the mayor was about to announce the winner.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, all your votes have been heard. We appreciate each and every one of you, and we thank you for participating in all of this. Now,’ he held the envelope tightly in his pink, fat hands, ‘in this envelope, the name of our grand winner is written, all capitals, in purple. Who will it be? Huh?’

Whispers, again and again. ‘Let’s find out.’

He ripped the envelope open, and brought the paper to his eyes. His smile sharpened. ‘My dear folks, I’m going to ask you to make some noise for John!’

He couldn’t believe his ears. He had won. Even without being able to present his crime, they had voted for him.

He got up and started to walk towards the mayor when a yell was heard. 

‘You should be dead!’

John stopped in his steps, and all eyes fell on her. She stood about 5 foot 6, with dark hair and she wore a blue velvet dress, a military jacket thrown on top of it, a necklace of pearls and bracelets of gold on her wrists, her index pointed at him, fury in her eyes. Again, she yelled, ‘You should be dead!’

The mayor looked annoyed and motioned for John to move back a bit. ‘Lady, if you’re drunk, just don’t come, okay? This is a celebration, not a court.’

He had recognized her. He knew why he had stuttered. She had left town, she wasn’t supposed to be here today, to ruin his special day.

‘You raped my sister!’

‘Lady, again, leave.’

‘You should be dead. You should and she shouldn’t. Why do they praise you? Why don’t they kill you, like you killed her?’

John felt suddenly uneasy. The woman was obviously unwell, to bash a ceremony like this one. He wondered if she was jealous of him.

‘Last time, lady, get out.’

‘So, you’re not going to do anything about it?’

‘Yes, we are, we are gifting him a prize, a trophy and a check.’

‘You’re not going to punish him?’

He laughed. ‘What for?’

Her face shattered slowly. She asked finally. ‘What about God?’

The mayor exhaled loudly into the microphone. ‘Now, lady, cut this out, you know damn well,’ the microphone screeched, the distorted noise amplified, ‘that God created us in his image, and wants us to evolve in the best way possible. We shouldn’t punish, but praise. God wanted this to happen.’

‘Oh yeah?’

The mayor looked tired. ‘Yes, now please, go.’

She nodded slightly. ‘I’m going to go. Sure. I just have a thing to do for God before,’ 

From her left breast pocket, she pulled out a revolver, five shots. She shot the pedophile first, then the zoophile, then the girl, the rapist they all thought was boring, and before it fully hit him, the mayor. John was all alone on stage and all looked scared but no sounds was heard except for her boots, walking slowly towards him.

She smiled at John. ‘No sins shall go unrewarded, correct?’

He breathed rapidly. He didn’t understand what was wrong with her, how such monsters came to be.

‘Do you remember her name, John?’

His breathing was frantic, like a train going off the rails, both sounds similar in their madness.

‘Answer me!’

‘Something with an S, it was something with an S, it started with an S!’

She laughed, her eyes still. She lowered them and slowly stopped laughing. She licked her lips.

‘Here’s your reward, John.’

She shot him between the eyes. His body fell, knees first, his upper half in the void, held at an angle by his legs, his blood dripping on the poster glued to the stage, the message slowly disappearing.

 

 

 

 

 

Dan Dratz is a writer whose works seek to challenge and point the absurdity of the world we live in.