When I got outside, I wasn't surprised to see that my cameraman was gone. Just as well since I was now undercover. I tried to get into the mindset. I was Anya, KGB. Russian. Cold, calculating, and unfortunately since the guard saw me, somewhat promiscuous. I hadn't planned on the last part. I made my way through Johannesburg's darkest, poorest district; a gleaming white skinned beacon in a sea of dark, depraved flesh.
I had no idea word could spread so quickly. Twice, I watched as someone would exit a hovel and walk toward me only to have someone else grab their arm and whisper in their ear. I was off limits. I was Khalfani's personal fucktoy. How many eyes were watching us in that room? How many men had seen me on that desk, speared on his big black cock like a wanton, submissive whore?
I walked further into the depths of the slums. There weren't even houses here, only shacks made of scrap metal and pallets. In the distance, I could faintly see the World Cup stadium, and I shook my head.
A hand grabbed my arm, and hauled me between the shacks. He was horrendous. Coal black and covered in sores. His grotesque teeth were exposed in an obscene smile as he violently pawed at my thigh. I knew I had to think quick. "I am Khalfani's. Do you want to do this thing?" I asked as his hands slid under my shirt, finding my breasts. He didn't seem to hear. I felt him pull my bra down until my full bosom was exposed. He leaned back and reached under my skirt, one finger sliding along my pussylips.
I grabbed him by the throat and forced his head backwards, hard against the sheet metal. I leaned close, feeling his hands freeze. "I give you one last chance, motherfucker. I am Khalfani's lover. You are sealing your death warrant as we speak." I said, making my eyes go cold. He let go of my left breast, and his hand fell out from under my skirt. I lowered my leg, and slapped him, hard. He looked at me, and whimpered. I slapped him again, and again, and again. I didn't want to do it, but "Anya" would have done so.
I went on. And on. Finally, I saw the first sign. Three machetes shoved in the ground like rays emitting from the Earth. Machete Mog's territory. I heard the very faint noise of those damned vuvuzelas, and I stepped into enemy terrain. It started to rain then. A light, then steady downpour. Immediately I popped a birth control pill. I didn't know what was in store from me in this wretched shithole.
As I walked, it just got worse. More machetes, more wretched people. More suffering. I saw a woman being fucked in the middle of the road by a man with one leg. When he was done, he gave her a chicken. She took it to a house where I heard children crying. I saw a corpse with his throat cut and feet cut off. I saw three women playing cards with the bar codes from cereal boxes. It was insane, and I was frightened. But "Anya" wouldn't have been frightened, so I had to keep my cover, and walk passed it all; so all that saw would tell my tale.
"Hey, redheaded bitch!" someone yelled at me. I took a deep breath, and turned. |