THE MARK OF CAIN

Discovery

Chapter 1

He stood naked in the hot shower, his hands caressing his own body, touching, feeling and exploring. Moving slowly at first, but then faster, with urgency while the hot water continued to wash his lean body.  His eyes were tightly shut when eventually soft moans escaped from his trembling lips.  The sensations hit him so suddenly that they forced his naked back against the warm shower wall.

Later that same morning Cain sat uncomfortably at his office desk.  He looked down unhappily at all the papers and documents that needed his immediate attention, but he just couldn’t focus.  His mind went back to the shower scene of barely two hours ago. Was he hoping to find the hash truth about his body, or was he relieved that he had not.

Cain had done just what his parish priest had suggested, that he examine himself while in the shower. Did Father Goh mean well, or did he put the idea into Cain’s head, to do something that was not so natural, against his own free will.  For Cain was brought up proper, in a Catholic family, and had always been strong willed and disciplined.  Anyway, what was done was done.  He had let the hot shower relaxed his muscles and tried his best to feel for any abnormalities that might be on his naked body.  He really wanted to find the reason for the way he had been feeling the last few days.

The truth of the matter was that Cain did not even have a clear memory of his childhood. It wasn’t that so many years had gone by, but rather that he did not want to remember.  For his childhood was too painful, hurtful and disgraceful.  His parents had not loved him, nor wanted him.  They had abandon him at a temple. Other parents had the decency to dispose of their unwanted children at the orphanage where they could grow up with other children.  Oh, no, not his.  They had put him in a temple instead. Imagine a boy growing up among monks.  His only escape was when he was at school.  Those naughty, rebellious boys, and even bullies and perverts were his normal friends. How much he had hated those vegetarian monks.  On his eighteenth birthday he had packed his few belongings and ran away to the city.

What Cain didn’t know, and what his parents did not tell him was to remain a secret, till years later.

Both his father and mother had come from families with connections with the occult.  They were the decedents of mediums and spiritualists.  When Cain was born his parents knew he had a special power, but this very fact would also put his life and theirs in danger. Thus they had made a pack with the temple to raise and protect him without ever disclosing the secret. For the rest of his life, Cain would have a dislike for vegetarian food and a fear of religious quacks.

“Morning Cain, welcome back to the world of the living,” joked his friend Jackson who had the desk next to his. “So, how are you feeling now, after your two days of MC?”

The whole office had been on fire, gossiping about him because Cain was as a rule, healthy, young and strong.  To suddenly take two whole days off, and not even have an explanation from the doctor as to what was wrong with him, was certainly fuel for the flame.

At lunch in the basement staff canteen, again the conversation centred on his absence from work. This time, however, some concrete suggestions were thrown into the group discussion. A woman who was older and maybe wiser, asked, “Did anyone step on your foot recently?  Or did you pick something up from the streets that didn’t belong to you?”

Cain wasn’t sure what she was driving at, so the woman went on to explain that such actions could have put him under a curse.  Some people used these ways to get close physical contact with their victims when they wanted to use a black magic charm. Her idea started a lively debate and more stories began to emerge.

“I know of such a case, when a guy got sick for no apparent reason at all, you know, just like you. When doctors could not do anything for him, he had to visit a shaman.  She used a hard boil egg to rub on his body. The funny thing was that, after a while the white boiled egg turned black, and when she cut it open, there were bloody needles inside.”

Peter, another young man also had his share of stories of the supernatural kind.  He told them about his neighbours, and how the young but poor woman had made a rich man fall in love with her.  “She put a drop of her menstrual blood into his drink! It worked like a charm, because within the month they were married.  Then he died, leaving all his money to her.”

The group of young people were now enjoying themselves with their gore and sick stories.  They had forgotten that they were there to try and help poor Cain figure out what the matter was.  Such things occurred quite frequently in this part of the world and everyone had their own story to tell.

Entertaining as these stories were, Cain was starting to feel more worried. Just last Sunday, during mass, he had come over queer, and the feeling was so strange.  He could not describe the illness, because it was something he had never felt before. The best way he could put it was that someone was walking over his grave.  Well, that was a phrase his grandmother used to say, but Cain felt sure that something or someone was trying to steal his soul from his healthy young body.

Even Father Goh had noticed the way he was slumped in the pew with his face pale and obviously not listening to his sermon, and that was why he had asked Cain to feel and examine himself whilst in the hot shower. Still, Cain could not shake off the uncertainty of the incident; did Father Goh really know just how he was feeling, or was the man of the cloth just putting a dirty though into his young head?

Yes, Cain decided, I should try a shaman.  There is no harm trying and after all these things were quite common here in Borneo.  Once his mind was made up, Cain felt a little better.  He now had a plan, to go out and conquer his demons, but how was he to find a shaman?

Chapter 2

In the hill village of Duyoh lived a Tukang Manag, known to her people as Dayung Borih.  A strong Shaman, she could contact the spirit world, often communicating with good and bad spirits.  She was also the Priestess of her village, and everyone depended on her skills to bless the harvest each year, or surely the village would have perished, being on hilly rocky ground without any topsoil for planting.  Also, with her blessings, the villagers were able to constantly hunt the wildlife or fish the fast running river for food.  She was also the healer of many ailments that would befall the villagers, especially those who went into the jungle to hunt.  For the jungle was the place that was inhabited by all sorts of spirits, and one never knew if an action or word could offend them, in return causing a sickness that only a shaman could cure. Of course the older generations knew the law of the jungle, and would often share stories or songs, with the younger people to teach them this wisdom that would ensure that they did not offend the malignant spirits living in the jungles.

“Never comment on it if you ever smell something sweet while walking in the jungle,” was one such law that the elders said, over and over again.  “When bad spirits go past you, they leave a fragrance that would entice anyone to follow them, to their death.  Sometimes, they appear as balls of light, the red ones are good spirits while the green ones you should avoid at all cost.”

The Dayung Borih was very old but nobody knew her actual age.  Ever since she was called by the spirits to become a Priestess eons ago, she had lived a life of strict abstinence, from certain foods, activities and s****l pleasures.  However, the one thing that she must never eat, or lose her powers, was the meat of deer from the jungles.

The surrounding mountains were jagged limestone, and over thousands of years the rain water had carved out huge cave chambers.  The scenery was as beautiful as it was deadly here.  Very few large animals could survive in the areas near the village, and most often the hunters had to walk for miles through the jungle to the low lands where jungle fruit were in abundance to support wildlife.

She picked up an ancient sword and pulled the sharp blade out of its sheath of Minyenkad Wood.  The spirit had informed her that a visitor would come soon, seeking her service.  Yes, she ought to get ready for this important visitor, for he was the chosen one, who will eventually decide their fate. First she must get hold of the beautiful cockerel that she had been saving for this occasion, sadly cut its head off in one swift blow, and make a blood offering to the gods.  Next she went out into her small garden and picked the flowers from seven different bushes.  They were of all colours and nectar, meant for her cleansing bath to purify her soul for the important ritual to come. She must once again, enter into the spiritual realm to seek the help of the most powerful spirits, risking her own life if she did not take care to follow the steps laid down by her ancestors hundreds of years ago.  When the visitor arrived, she would have to impress him, with her trance and dance, her chanting and show of magic.

The village of Duyoh stood on a hill with giant boulders and the terrain looked impossible for humans to build on or inhabit, yet there it was, consisting of a communal longhouse, a ritual head house and of course the temple of Panca Dayukng of which she was the Priestess.

About seventy families lived in the longhouse, its sturdy tall poles made of hard wood, while its walls and floors were mostly of bamboo.  Each of the family had their own room, in the long row of seventy rooms, with the middle one being the largest in size.  This was the home of the village head man.  The head house was rounded in shape, not unlike the round table of the famous knights of King Arthur. It was used for certain ceremony, important meetings and as its name suggested, human heads from past head hunting expeditions, hung from the roof over a smoking fire.

Maybe the most important building was the Temple of Panca Dayukng.  It was so mysterious that nobody had seen the inside, apart from the Priestess of course.  Here she would dress up in her most terrifying costumes, chant prayers, and her young male assistants would beat drums of skin from animals.

Chapter 3

Tima the tea lady in his office had been most helpful.  She asked about his health, brought him hot brew of teas and plates of cream-centred biscuits. His favourite kinds were from Marks and Spencer’s, delicious English biscuits. Cain was beginning to feel better whenever he saw her, but deep inside he knew his journey had not yet started.  His dreams were still dark, a sense of impending doom, and his intuition told him that the curse was still very much upon him.

“Feeling better, dear?” Tima asked as she placed yet another hot brew on his desk.  Cain smiled gratefully at her and said that he was not feeling any better.  In fact, his dream last night was so vivid, like it was sending him a message, but when he woke up he couldn’t for the life of him, remember what that message was. She was most kind, telling him not to worry and that he must be strong.  Then on second thought she asked, “Have you ever considered trying a more traditional way?”

“You mean like a shaman?” replied Cain. “Yes, I have, if only I knew where to find one.”

Tima started to clear the cups and put them on a tray. 

“Let me wash these things up, then I will tell you.”

She went into the pantry and quickly put all the cups into the sink.  As she turned the water tap on, she cast a quick look behind her shoulder to make sure nobody was watching her.  Then with a smile on her face, she washed away all the traces of evidence from the cups.

Cain stood facing the Dayung Borih, his nerves at breaking point.  After a long and difficult search he was here at the village of Duyoh, and he didn’t know how to begin. He had followed the directions given to him by Tima, but there was no map as such, plus the whole area was so untouched.  People that he had stopped to ask for the way had not even heard of such a place. Finally, after two days of searching and hoping, he saw the many huge boulders that Tima had told him to look out for.  They were the sign posts that he was nearing the village of the Shaman.

“I know why you have come,” she said in her rasping voice, her long dry hair in a mess on her head, and the pitting of the skin on her breasts made them look like yellow over ripe fruit.  In the background, tens of small drums were being beaten by strong men naked to the waist.  They all wore necklaces donned with the teeth of wild boars.  The Priestess began to sway to the rhythm of the drums, quickly falling into a trance.  Her eyes rolled back, and her n*****s looked like they were in danger of popping out and shooting at him.

“You have to pass a spiritual test,” the Shaman whispered in that strange voice. “Go to Mt. Santubong and get me the head of the Rajah Laba.  Only then can you appease the spirits or beg for a healing.”

Cain’s heart fell in despair.  To come all this way, only to be told to go on another quest.  Still, he must be patient, to hear her out, and maybe find a way to defeat her.  He might be feeling ill, but his strong nature will not give up so easily.  Having lived with Monks, he always walked in a manly manner, his strong legs apart, and he never raise his voice. 

“Tell me how I can do that,” he said loudly, over the sounds of the drums, very unlike himself.

“The Rajah Laba is the king of the wild boars, and the big herd live on the mountain of Santubong, only 800 meters tall, it stands in the shallow waters of the South China Sea.  But do not be deceived, for they are thousands of years old, now able to transform into human forms.  It is no easy task to find their hide out, least of all to kill the king.”

For hundreds of years, the many herds of wild boars have roamed the jungles of Borneo.  They were an organised species of animals, with ranks and file.  Those lucky few who survived hog-wars, bush fires or the poison darts of blow pipes of the Dayak hunters lived so long that their spirit had connected with the un-natural.

Yes, the un-natural was what humans called it.  Things that were not meant to be, not supposed to happen.  Yet, inevitably, it was what happened to this particular group of boars.  The oldest male hog, slowly, over the long years became Labo, King of the wild boar, in human form.

Being the leader, even as the King of a herd of pigs was not enough for him.  As he grew older and wiser, Labo wanted to be like those superior beings who came into his territory, to hunt and kill.  He swore that he would revenge his species.  One day, one day soon, he would go to war with mankind to destroy them all.   

The Shaman gave Cain detailed instructions, and handed him that ancient sword.  “You must cut his head off with this sword and bring it back to me.  Do not fail this quest, or you will die.”

Slowly her eyes began to open again, looking at Cain she nodded her head several times.  This will do for now, she thought.  She had planted the seed, and now Cain who is the chosen one, will start the war that will end in the defeat of the boar king.

A lonely waterfall dropped from the rocky cliff halfway up Mt. Santubong.  It was at the deepest part of the low land forests that covered this part of the mountain with its tall dipterocarp trees.  Sounds of monkeys could be heard in the far distance, but the most distinctive sounds were the water falling onto the deep pool at the bottom.  Cain, already in poor health, was glad to see it.  He must take a rest here before he continued his way up into the unknown.

His thought went back to that last day in the office, the day before he had started his journey into the spiritual world.  Jackson had seemed so concerned for him, taking his hand and gently holding it to his chest. There was even a tiny tear starting at the corner of his eye as he prayed a soft prayer.  Cain was quite touched by this.  He never knew that Jackson was that fond of him, he had never really shown his affection until now.  Oh well, Jackson was a sweet boy, and Cain liked him too.

Sanuk was born in a new era, a time when her people were people.  It was true that her father had impressed upon her that she was actually a pig by nature.  The princess hated this notion.  She didn’t want to be a pig.  She wanted the world.  But her fate was that she had to live all her life on the mountain of Santubong.  Life wasn’t that bad really, she was able to roam freely and safely, as long as she did not get too close to those real evil humans.  Her father the King had told her horrific stories of humans coming into their forest with blow pipes and knives, to hunt and kill.  One of her aunties had ended up on a roasting fire. They were her people’s enemy, therefore hers too.

As a wild boar human princess, Sanuk also had some magical powers. This she never really appreciated, not until she met Cain. She was given the important mission to go into the human city, get Cain, the chosen one, and use him as a weapon against their deadliest enemy the Shaman.

He sat down, cupped his hands and took a drink from the pool of cold water at the foot of the waterfall. He was still pondering why the Priestess had asked for the wild boar’s head, and why she had put this curse on him in the first place.  Was he meant to find her, and had she intended to use him from the beginning to kill her enemy. Why him, how can he play this pivotal role in their war?

Lost in thoughts he did not hear the soft approaching footsteps of a young woman.  For Cain had taken all his clothes off, and gone into the refreshing water, to cool his sweaty body and tired soul. The gentle roar of the cascading water sounded so soothing to the young man but blocking any other sounds.  Soon his skin shone with a renewed glow, and he wondered if the water was magical. She was beautiful in a weird sort of way, with long black hair, falling over the small of her naked back, slanted brown eyes with lashes that looked almost grey in the light of the jungle, and a round nose that twitched with each odour that blew her way.  Very carefully she crept closer and closer to him, as if to kill him.  Known as Timan the tea lady, Sanuk was now in her princess form.  He was as surprised as she, though he had no idea who she was or why a beautiful young girl would appear here in this waterfall. He quickly placed his hands over his strong chest, hiding his n*****s that must have become erect in the cold water. She cast her eyes downwards, from his chest and focused on the black hair between his legs. The two young people just stood rooted there for a minute, their eyes taking in all the delicious details about each other. 

Very soon, they recovered from their initial shock, and started chatting.  Her name was Sanuk, she told him, from a village not so far from there.  Her father was called Michael, and he was the headman of their village of Serian.

In turn, he told her about his visit to a shaman seeking a cure for the sudden illness that had fallen on him.  Cain did not know why he trusted this young woman whom he had just met.  Against his better judgement he told her about his quest to get the head of the king, the Rajah Labo.

She listened with interests to his story but wondered in her heart what Cain would say if he ever found out that she was the Princess of the wild boar. It was starting to get late and soon the sun would set behind the trees, making the jungle too dark and dangerous to travel.  Sanuk decided to take this young man back to her village to meet her father, the very man whose head Cain had started out to take.