They say that “The internet never forgets”. That’s why I’m writing this here. The first thing that comes to mind is sending a letter, or calling anonymously. Or maybe being a man and meeting his family face to face, telling them the truth as they look me in the eyes. But that’s not an option. Even if it was, I can’t stand it. I can’t stand myself. I know that deep down I’m happy that I absolutely cannot contact his family, it makes me feel like I don’t have a choice and it releases me of my burden. Makes me feel less guilty. So here’s what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna write this post and the internet will do its thing. Even if it’s removed it will pop up in some web archive. This way they can never hide it and even if takes a long time, someday someone who knew him will read this and show it his family and they will finally know what really happened to their son.
I first met Rufus in college. He was the brightest student in every class. It gave him a reputation, by the end of the first semester almost everyone had heard of him. He wasn’t a stereotypical nerdy guy, he was charming and incredibly well-spoken. I think anyone who met him instantly fell in love with him. But I wasn’t impressed. Not because he wasn’t impressive but because deep down I always hated two groups of people: people who reminded me of myself and people who lived better than me. And he reminded of what I could have been. And he did live a better life. It’s jealousy and being bitter but I always hide it with a superiority complex. I always kept my head down, never wanted any attention but he seemed to like it. This was all before I actually got to know him. One Saturday when I was waiting for my coffee I saw him staring at a clock. It was bizarre. You’d see shit like this with the loner types not the most popular person you know. Well, I wouldn’t say popular. He wasn’t popular he just had a reputation. Having a reputation can mean a lot of things. He was just, well-known? Not “popular”.
I got my coffee and headed towards the door but I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. He hadn’t moved an inch. Perfectly still like an Italian statue. My curiosity got the best of me, and I thought that for once, I could be the normal guy who’s repulsed by anything out of the ordinary. So I approached him. I said “It was ten, now it’s nine, what are you waiting for?” he didn’t show any reaction. I was used to seeing him like that one squirrel from that one animation who had coffee for the first time. I said “alright” and started to leave but suddenly he turned around and said “You see it too? YOU, you see it too?” I said “see what? an idiot staring at a clock? well, yeah” he answered “No no what you said earlier, It was ten now it’s nine, isn’t it incredible?” I was SHOCKED, I couldn’t believe a guy that smart just missed the most obvious joke of mine. I took a deep breath and said “It’s a joke Rufus.” he looked back at the clock and slowly mumbled “yeah, it’s a joke.”
That was the first time I spoke with him. We didn’t really become friends until our path crossed again being classmates. People like seeing familiar faces, and now I was one. This time I actually started to like this guy, I tried to hold my resentment, my resentment for people that was formed over the years and actually get to know him. He helped me in a lot of lessons he’s the reason I got my degree. He got me into social groups, he was the reason I got into a serious relationship. He was there for me. I remember when my sister passed away because of an accident, I was a wreck. I started drinking a lot, it almost got me kicked out of college. But he made me quit, he made me pull myself together. I began to trust him like a brother I never had. But at the same time I hated him. I’m ashamed to admit this but I hated him. I hated how good he looked, how strong he was. How he always had time for me. It wasn’t jealousy. I didn’t want to be him or want bad things to happen to him. I just hated the idea of something being good. I was, I am, a bitter and resentful person. But all this didn’t affect my love for him. He was my best friend, he was the best guy I ever knew. So when he called me saying he’s in trouble I immediately went to his place. It took a lot of knocking and shouting but he finally opened the door. There was a dead man on the floor.
I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t. Rufus, the nicest guy ever, killing a person? A dead body? He didn’t say anything. Those big beautiful eyes were sorrowful. I kept asking myself “What are we going to do. what are we going to do. What AM I GOING TO DO. Should I call the cops on him? I don’t wanna go to prison, if I help him I-“ suddenly he mumbled “I didn’t kill him. He was going to blackmail you he-“ I thought, me? why? why would ANYONE want to blackmail me? I trusted him but this couldn’t possibly be true. I said “Rufus, you asked for me, here I am. There’s a dead body on the floor do you understand? A dead body. A dead person, A dead human being. Do you understand Rufus.” He said “he was gonna blackmail you he said he was gonna blackmail you he-“ I shouted “ That’s why you killed him? because he was going to BLACKMAIL, Just try to BLACKMAIL, ME, not you, ME, and you killed him? took his life? what about talking to me first? Or calling the cops?” he started to shake and said “ but he was gonna-“ I said “Alright alright calm down, calm down.”
I started thinking, I was afraid, I was scared shitless but I kept it cool. I said “I’m not gonna rat you Rufus. We promised we would always have each other’s back, we need to get rid of this body, and then you can tell me all about it. Let’s think of something alright?” he nodded. Where would you hide a body? Where would I hide a body? I always entertained this idea. I liked true crime so I sometime tried to put myself in the shoes of a serial killer. What happens to those poor bastards who get sliced so MD students can learn? No one ever thinks about them. They had a family, they had a name, they lived a life, they breathed. And in the end, They ended up as toy. Some call it a tool for the greater good but that’s not how it really is. I prefer “necessary evil.” So that’s what we did to the body. and then we scrubbed the apartment.
“The guy knocked on the door. He said that he was an old friend of yours, that you went way back. He even showed me a pic of the two of you in high school. So I let him in. Then I went to the kitchen to put on some tea. When I got back he had put a revolver on the table. I-“ he paused as if he was reliving that moment again. “He said, well, he said a lot of things. But he said that you’re chosen. That I should convince you to accept it. Otherwise they will use the dirt they have on you. And he showed me some of it.” I said “What did he show you?” he answered “ The thing you tell me about when you’re near blackout drunk” I sighed “Those are stories I make up to look cool and super kinky. They’re not real. I’m not an animal you know.” he said “But he showed me pictures…” I answered “ And a picture of us in high school. And I saw the guy, I don’t know him. They’re made up.” he looked me in the eyes “They weren’t made up.” I just stared at him silently, thinking, he killed a man and I helped him dispose of the body. I am just as guilty. “Then he asked if I knew what was the gun for. I said he’s gonna shoot me, because I’m not going to do as he says. He said no. He said that the gun was for him. He said that if I didn’t agree he would kill himself and I will be hanged for murder.” I couldn’t believe this story. I thought it was a defense mechanism to keep himself sane after he shot the guy. So I went along with it.
Three days later, we saw each other again. In college. I tried my best not to talk about it. But he looked worried. I couldn’t help but ask how he was doing. How he was coping. He said that he feels like he’s being followed. He was losing sleep, and kept hearing foot steps at night. He had a suggestion, we should have a secret code. We set the SOS emergency of our phones to each other. a text saying “It’s was ten, now it’s nine.” which meant the life of the one who sent it is in immediate danger and he needs help. I thought that he was being paranoid but I did it anyway because it could make him feel better. But I was wrong. After our encounter, I started to notice people following me around too.
Two days later I was sure that they were following me. What did they want from me? I went to Rufus’ place. Knocked and knocked but he didn’t open until he heard my voice. He opened but didn’t let me in, he handed me piece of paper. It read “my place is bugged, yours too. can’t talk, meet me at 11, Red’s bar.” I left. I kept thinking about this “fact” and it’s implications. Should I look for the bug or keep the illusion? our lives were clearly in danger, We, or actually he, had killed one of them, but it was the same to them.
I sat. I ate. I listened. “They’re following you too huh.” I nodded. Kept eating my burger. Perks of an Irish bar. “Listen I have a plan. We should ambush one of them and question him. It’s the only thing we can do. No police. And we should stay together. Take turns watching out when the other sleeps.” I agreed. So we left the place. Used an alley and got a guy. Too easy right? it turns out he had no problem getting caught. “We know You know” a moment of silence “You” he pointed to me “ You are chosen. And you will do what you are chosen to do. In fact, you’re already doing it. You will see.” I didn’t have a clue. I looked at Rufus. I could see doubt in his eyes. He was wondering why the man didn’t bother getting caught. He was wondering if I too, was in on it. He let go of the guy and began to leave. I went after him, but he didn’t stop for me.
He didn’t return my calls. He wouldn’t open the door on me. He must’ve thought that they told the truth, and the photos were real. That I was one of them. Even though I knew we had to stick together, I decided to leave him alone. Or rather, it was decided for me. A thought that released my burden. He didn’t trust me anymore. I literally helped him dispose a body and he didn’t trust me anymore. He believed a random punk in an alley. This broke my heart. He left me alone, because some crazy punks wanted to fuck with us. He was a murderer but I was the one who’s not trustworthy. He fucked our plan. I was alone. All alone in my home, And that’s how they got to me.
I tried to sleep less and less. Short chunks of sleep, instead of sleeping for hours. But it didn’t work. In one of my chunks they broke in and took me. The next thing I know I was in a dark room tied to a chair with candles all around the place, and people surrounding me. To my surprise they didn’t have any masks. I could see every single face. Maybe they knew what exactly we did to the body of their kin so they thought I was in too deep and wouldn’t expose them. They looked… like normal people. Not grotesque, not attractive, not particularly well dressed or the smell of being rich. Just normal everyday people. Like the people you see everyday in the street and forget about. One of them a young man with light brown hair came close, the others raised both hands up and then down.”
“You are chosen.”
I was too smart to ask them to let me go.
“Chosen to do what?”
“Chosen to make a sacrifice”
“And why would I do that? I don’t care about the photos. Not anymore.”
“The photos weren’t for you.”
I knew the photos made Rufus doubt me, but I didn’t suspect that it was by design.
“So how are you going to make me do what you want?”
“A servant killed himself just so you and your friend Rufus could get rid of him. You doubted him didn’t you? He told you the truth and you doubted him.”
Rufus… didn’t… lie…
” “
“A servant kills himself for the greater good. A servant has no regards for his own life. What makes you think he has for yours or your family’s?”
” “
“You are chosen to make a sacrifice. You doubted him, and he doubted you.”
” “
“We planted the seeds. Now we sow.”
“what do you want?”
“You doubted him but saved his life. He doubts you but will he save yours?”
” “
“He’s the reason you’re here. Weren’t you supposed to take turns and watch out?”
“…”
“What you thought the Red’s bar is a Faraday cage?” they all laughed.
” “
“You are chosen. You are the one who can decide. In that sense “thou art chosen” , “but the cattle shall eat”. Will you give up your life and save his. Or see if he will do what you did. See past that doubt and try to save you. His life for yours. We prefer it that way. That is the role of the chosen. But the decision is your right to make.”
” “
“It is ten.”
“Now it’s nine…”
They opened my hands. I texted him.
He, Rufus, even though he believed I was one of them, in the slight chance that he was wrong and I was in danger, suppressed his doubts and came to save me. He came to save me. He walked right in to save me. He walked in his own funeral willingly, believing he was saving a “friend”. I exchanged his life, for mine. I wanted to believe that I exchanged his life for mine. I was suicidal. This looked like one of those situations where I happily tell myself that I don’t have a choice and can take the burden off myself. Maybe I hated him. Maybe I hated a person that was nothing but good to me. He walked right in, and they tied him to an alter. With his jaw broken and his mouth shot. They kept chanting and I put the knife in his chest when he was staring at me. When he was looking me in the eyes. Seeing the face of someone he came to save. Someone who he assumed a friend. Someone who sold him out because he was afraid to die alone. I know they wouldn’t just let me go. It was too dangerous. But I was wrong. After I killed my friend, seeing the light of life leave his eyes with a single tear.
They told me. A chosen one is the one who betrays. Betrayal is what they want. “Betrayal is the meat and the meat is the betrayal.” And they wanted me to live with this fact for the rest of my life. How I betrayed my only friend, How I personally put the knife in his chest because I’m a coward. How I watched him get eaten. How their faces would light up when the flesh touched their mouth. How his blood was their wine. How I watched but not in horror. in a deep peace. How I would never speak to authorities because I’m a piece of shit. A selfish piece of shit. How I exactly did what they wanted from me. Hid the body. Betrayed the meat. Betrayed myself. Their seal was complete, for another 12 years. Until some other asshole betrays his friend to provide the betrayal meat and become the chosen one. Maybe they’ll come for me when it’s time. For now I remain the chosen one. Chosen to suffer. Chosen to carry this cross. Chosen to sustain them. His family thinks that he’s missing, maybe they should keep thinking so. Maybe I shouldn’t have written this. Maybe it was a mercy. Maybe missing is better than being eating. Better than knowing that Rufus Sack, was the sacrifice.