"Prepare the feed," my mother ordered after a lengthy silence. I got up clunkily. Working the pins and needles out of my feet. "Put it in the bathroom. Then come back here and help your sisters carry him," she said staring at the inanimate Shuma. I went out through the back of the house to the storeroom. The lock was a bit tricky. You had to push the key inside, turn it, then kick the bottom. All the while moving your hands out the way just in time. Moving them too early, the key would slide back. Then you have do it again. And again. I got it right the second time around. Upon prying the door open, a spindly figure ran towards the shadows in the corner of the room.

His name was Lerumo. Once a grade higher than Lesedi at the same high school. About 2 years ago he had tricked my sister into showing up at his house which was unattended. My sisters are very naïve about the world. They don't understand that people lie and commit deplorable acts. Then lie some more to keep themselves safe from the consequences of those actions. He had told her Naledi was at his house to fetch some study material and was waiting for her there. But Naledi had been excused to go home after throwing up in class earlier.

Lerumo had been tasked by the teacher of that class to inform Lesedi that her sister had gone home. He had decided to be clever. He called her out from the class and spun an intricate story about Naledi and a fellow classmate. He made sure the fellow classmate mentioned was a female to ease my sister's apprehensions. This is where not having anyone to talk to at school becomes a major disadvantage. Had she had at least one friend, she could have enquired further upon the matter and discovered the holes in his story.

Upon arriving at the house, Lerumo coaxed her inside with promises that her sister was probably studying inside with her classmate. Her innocent mind led her in, at which point she was defenceless against him. He took away her innocence that day. The matter was reported to the police and school authorities. Both of who contended that my sister, who had never spoken to a boy outside of a menial request or two of little to no consequence if unheeded, had gone to this boy's house out of her own volition. They did not even bother looking into the testing performed at the hospital. Compulsory for rape victims. Of course my mother and I knew the real reason why they showed such blatant disregard to the violations against my sister. And we weren't going to let them get away with it.

Like others who were guilty of violations against the family, he was repurposed. His duty had become to supply the essence that invigorates others who required a new lease on life. Lesedi was instrumental in getting him here. I give her absolute credit in burying her feelings in order to subdue him into walking through our very doors. It must have taken everything she had to sweet talk him. The little my mother had taught her. Allow him to sweet talk her back. Touch her inappropriately. Put up with his Evil Rotten Despicable … let me get a hold of myself … She maintained her composure the entire walk.

He wasn't going to sit down when he realised she wasn't alone. So I had to use brute force, unwillingly of-course, to knock him senseless. I was careful not to kill him. God knows I was tempted, but I held back just enough in my swing not to shatter his cranium. I had studied quite a bit of biology during my varsity years in my spare time. Obviously I hadn't studied enough to consider professorship or anything like that. But the little I had learnt went a long way. We are not killers in this house. That's for the blackened of hearts with agenda's tied to demons and insatiable jealous streaks. We don't follow demons and we are not jealous people. We only do what's right and what's necessary. One or the other depending on the circumstances.

We didn't even bother placing him in the chair. He wasn't worth it. We only needed him for one thing anyway. We would find others for anything else we required. Many souls in this village are literally begging for our guidance. Were never short of helpers. We've just never found a real gardener before. Only chancers thus far. Unqualified and useless. We kept Lerumo alive through a special soup of herbs and raw meat, added much later when the soup cooled down. The herbs kept his blood healthy. The meat kept him fat just enough to not die during the blood draining. Otherwise his blood would coagulate before it even made it to the specialised container. Deeming Him useless.

He should be grateful we let him live this long. He doesn't like the blood draining. His body begins to shake uncontrollably when I pull out my knife. But deep inside, I think his zombified brain somehow understands that his life depends on it. It's a really easy process. Takes a bit of time because you can't rush it. You poke them in the stomach really deep. Place a filter by the wound, directing the blood into the Vile Of The Condemned. Then you let them bleed until you're satisfied with the amount. After that you take a handful of yarrow, pre-mixed with salt water and mud. Plaster it into the wound and feed them more of that herbal soup. I like to slap Lerumo's face with the raw meat just to let him know what a vile scum he is. When you're done you lock them away for another day. Clear, simple, little to no complications.