llllllll Matocho. Mataocho. Mata, Ocho. A nonsensical word. Perhaps better pronounced as Matar Ocho, to kill eight. The word is pronounced in the common and nearly singular Spanish dialect, as the word has been passed across several south American borders and on into Mexico, where it gets it’s Spanish translation. The word gets its origin from the Portuguese root Matar Oito, to kill eight, the base language of where the story originates. Though the story does not originate in Portugal itself, but rather a Portuguese language based country, Brazil.
llllllll One morning, the sun already too high in the sky for the time to be considered normal waking hours, the father of the household awoke in a fit of rage. Disturbed from his slumber, though asleep too long as it was, he let out a roar, which loud bellowing sound shook the house and made the roof tremble to a point where the leaves sprang off the top and fluttered to the ground. It made hardly any disturbance to the family working the field, however, were merely a few cast a glance at the rumbling house, if such a poorly pieced together contraption could be considered a house. The family was already out working the banana and corn plantations, places for both personal sustenance and for selling excess crops, as which ever ways for survival provided the most efficient form of self preservation were exploited to ensure the production of more crops the next year and the overall health of the family. Within the family there was a total of nine people, who remain nameless within the story, to promote a stronger mysterium to who the true Matar de Ocho may have been, some reporting that the story was spread and sent all the way to Mexico by the first Matocho himself, spreading the story and the contents of it to that of his own liking.
llllllll There were nine people however- The father, the wife, the mother of the father, two brothers of the father, and four children- the eldest, a boy, the second eldest, a girl, the third eldest, another boy, and the youngest of them all, a girl. Each member put out equal effort comparatively to as what they could put out- people in the household were expected to put out there own “weight” of work, or over-all size comparatively to how much and to what work each individual put out. Each rule was put into place by the strict ruling and discipline of the father himself, whom was generally well natured and calm in nearly all situations.
llllllll He had risen later than usual today, however. Nothing but anger filled the mind of the working man; eyes bloodshot, and blackened yellow teeth grinding upon themselves. The father wielded a machete, a thirteen and a half inch blade made of blackened carbon steel and fastened with a wooden handle, carvings of the woods and several other important marks engraved upon the handle, made by the father himself. The eldest boy, now nearly a man, staggered into the house to retrieve something for his grandmother, now inside the house itself. The grandmother simply smiled and waved upon seeing the father who had arisen, slightly ashamed for the way he had carried himself this morning.
llllllll Letting out another roar, the father darted towards his mother, machete in hand, tongue hanging from the corner of his mouth as his eyes bulged from their sockets, portraying nothing but evil, whom the mother only had time to notice the machete moving towards her neck and let out a small gasp.
llllllllThe man drove the blade through the throat of mother, splitting the skin of the front and back of the neck, the metal edge jutting from both sides of the connective area between the head and the torso of the woman. A thick maroon liquid began oozing about the open seams of the flesh, the mother straining and struggling to retain a breath, or even have oxygen move into her lungs. Annoyed by the silly persistence of the old woman, the man twisted the blade, catching flesh and organs like the larynx upon the knife, and pulled backwards, dragging the human pieces straight out from the woman’s throat, relieving a plug of skin and other organs from the woman’s neck, completely removing all capabilities of breathing from his mother.
llllllll The wife, barely catching the sight of her husband horrifically tearing his mother’s neck apart, rushed into the room and grasped the husband’s arm as to stop him from slaying more members of the household. The father then spun around, fists clenched tightly, his right one around the hilt of the knife, and stared angrily, and eagerly at his wife. This moment was interrupted however, when the eldest boy entered the house, dropping his farming tools upon experiencing the initial shock of seeing his grandmother upon the ground, bleeding, gasping for air.
llllllll Crying for help, and amazed in extreme bewilderment as to why no-one was helping the grandmother, he sadly only saw the back of his father, who if he had seen his glowing eyes, might have taken more precaution upon approaching him. The father then rested his hand upon the handle of his machete, and exerted pressure with his opposite arm. With a releasing of pressure of his opposite hand, his arm swung like a pendulum about the room, and the father’s entire body twisted around, bringing the blade to the boys throat, and slitting it four inches deep, nearly instantly, as the boy choked and fell backwards against the wall. Not done with the murder however, the mother watched in painful agony as the man dug the blade of the knife deep into the boys lower torso, ripping the skin apart and sliding deep into the belly of the boy. Twisting the machete, the man tore bits of skin and organs out of the child as the liver and small intestine wrapped themselves around the blade, the overall action of the blade causing the organs to stick the knife at an extremely well fashioned manner, and emptying the boy’s belly of nearly all existing materials. Yanking the weapon back, the contents of the torso came out with the blade as well, nearly pouring out of the child, as his eyes rolled back into his head and his body dropping to the floor. Slapping the blade against the wall, he now had the boys organs strewn about the walls, a think red splatter acting as paint inside the room, as what was left of the limp body laid onto the floor, a thick pool of darkened mess forming beneath the body on the dirt and mud floor.
llllllll The wife could do nothing but scream a piercing howl which broke through the air like a sudden screeching of tires upon the playing streets of children, and the woman completely cracked at witnessing her own child brutally murdered right before her eyes. Collapsing upon herself, her mind shattered, the father simply set out to finish the job of ending her life. Taking his blade, he happily drove his knife into the woman’s chest, piercing her heart and causing the final beating of her body to come to a rest. Convulsions shook the nearly dead woman’s torso, as she wreathed about the floor, the painful incursion of a sharpened metal object through her life source causing immediate seizures in all related areas until most of the blood within the immediate vicinity had drained out the back of the woman. The man then slowly pulled blade from out of the woman, tissue still connected to the knife, beating heart material still attached to the blade, and let the sticky maroon mess which had caressed itself around the metal drip from the machete.
llllllll Both the older men of the house rushed to the open side of the building to see what the screaming and fuss was about, only to be met by three brutally massacred corpses lying about the floor, draining blood. The first male let out a string of vomit as he wretched at the mere sight of his now deceased relatives, clutching his sides upon seeing the organs still stuck to the wall from whomever he though they were from. The second male immediately recognized the situation at hand however, and in an angry last ditch effort lunged himself upon the father, attempting to remove his weapon from his hand.
llllllllThe second male failed, and was met only by a now warm piece of blackened steel being driven into his diaphragm, first displacing his skin and abdominal muscles, and then splitting the muscle used for breathing. It was not entirely the father’s fault for the complete death of his brother however; the man’s own weight caused himself to sink upon the blade, removing the lungs from the working motion in his chest and instead placing them into his throat, tearing his existing breathing materials clean in two and this along with the blade shifting them upwards. The man as well helped with the removal of the blade; he simply went limp and fell off the blackened steel, eyes still firing in amazement and flabbergasted at the event that had took place.
llllllll The next brother was an easy kill, him still clutching his sides and reeling over the sight of his soon to be fellow compatriots, the angry father deciding that a man so easily disgusted by such a terrible death deserved a near equal one of his own. Placing the blade underneath the chin of now sobbing man, he drove the weapon upwards through his jaw and into the base of the brain of his brother. A million neurons and memories instantly fired through the brain of the man, as each brain cell died and along with it every important function of the body. Lifting the blade up backwards, the man tore the man’s face nearly in two with the dull side of his blade, cracking the small insignificant bones of his face into little pieces, and dragging out a huge chunk of cartilage and skin, the man’s nose, off from his face and sending it plopping onto the floor. The entire front half of the man’s face had been tore off and sent to drift to the floor, half of the man’s brain now split in two as the skull fell apart into several pieces, the entire lower jar removed, a few teeth clinking on the floor.
llllllll Sliding off the machete, the man fell to the floor as the now oldest sibling entered the room, with the two smaller children, the older girl ultimately screaming at the room now painted red in blood and staring at the twitching bodies on the floor. The little girl, incapable of understanding the situation, simply stared at the room and then at her sister, who stood screaming. With a simple swing of his machete, the man met the little girls neck with the knife, splitting the skin of the connecting part of the head clean in two as the head was quickly removed a single swipe from the neck, and plopped onto the floor. The body fell limp with the elder girl now screaming wilder, her own little sister now taken from this world, her still rolling bloody head at her feet.
llllllll The little brother did none other but crawl to his mother and brother laying upon the floor, grasping their hands, yelling at them, crying, wishing for them to wake up and tell him of good news or a happy story to calm the mood. None happened however. The little boys back parallel to the ground as he used his hands and knees to move about the floor, as such being closer to his relatives, the father grew angry at his sobbing son, who in his mind should have acted stronger and not have cried pr whined, and jammed the blade through the spine of the boy, sending a jolt through the body, causing the boys frame to first become rigid, and as the blade finished it’s glide through the small boy’s body, it pierced the other side of the chest, and crushed the small fragile lungs within the dark cavity so as the boy could not breath, and he removed the blade from the child; dead or not, a severed spine would result in paralyzation, and death in a little whiles time.
The older girl still screaming, having not fled the area, still in shock from seeing her siblings die in front of her, the man drove his blade through her chest, creating a gaping hole where her sternum should have been, and pierced the spine below her neck as her head fell backwards on her body. Removing the knife, he inserted the weapon into her belly before her limp body could fall, and held her up with the blade, now sagging into her skin, as he made another hole clean through the whole of her body with the blade. Again dropping the girl and lifting her back up with another stab, he repeatedly stabbed and made holes within the girl’s torso until nothing but dark red stained the front part of her skin, liquid oozing from the knife wounds now appearing upon her chest.
llllllll Finally letting the limp body fall to the ground, the father looked about the room of where he saw his now dead relatives laying. Picking each one up, he dropped each one into the garden, slicing a few into pieces as to spread them further about the land and not be as concentrated related to that of the confines of the average human body. Within such a remote area, he had no neighbors to see or question the dead bodies that laid about his plantation, and he merely left them there so as they might decompose and become useful, perhaps turning into fertilizer for his farm. In truth, the man that year had never experienced a better harvest, possibly attributed to the fact the bodies added needed nutrients to his field, providing a life source for his plants.
llllllllAfter laying his family, some in pieces, about his land however, initially he quickly removed a banana leaf from a tree. Spreading it out thin, and stretching it out upon a raised piece of wood, he reached into a barrel for some dried bananas slices and into another for a still living fish in water, and placed them both upon the banana leaf. Scraping the excess bloody material off his knife by applying pressure to one side of the blade as it scratched against the raised piece of wood, he grabbed the still flopping fish and cut it into several pieces, it still alive, it’s muscles only stopping it’s spazzing of squirms when most the fish was in several pieces. Mixing the mess up, still on his banana leaf, he slowly sat down in a wooden chair, placed his machete upon the raised wooden platform, which was his table, placed the fish and dried banana concoction in his mouth, and ate breakfast.
llllllllMatocho. Mataocho. Mata, Ocho. A nonsensical word. Perhaps better pronounced as Matar Ocho, to kill eight.
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