Harry Caffey Cage

There I was. Sitting in the dark room, filled with my colleagues. The chief was showing pictures of victims of a serial killer. Some people were sleeping or yawning. It’s been a long presentation of different serial killers. But I wasn’t sleeping or yawning. My eyes were wide open and focus as an arrow. This was the moment I was waiting for since the first day I entered the force. The serial killer on the slide was Harry Caffey Cage, my father’s murderer. Infamously known as HCC.

HCC is a member of an organization, called Kanker. Kanker is a contracted serial killer group when the mafia or gangster doesn’t want to get their hands dirty. HCC was nicknamed the silent killer, due to his preference of executing his victim through the attack of the liver. His victims are usually vulnerable to him due to their lifestyle and diet. He would infiltrate his victim, slowly and silently. However, as the old Malay saying goes: “Air tenang jangan disangka tiada buaya”. In English, it means:  “Don’t assume still waters hold no crocodile”.   

This presentation was showing the different ways HCC would torture his victims. One slide was showing his favorite method called Achit. First, he would torture his victim till his victim has no appetite. Due to this, his victim would be too weak to fight him of; therefore his job will be easier. As this continues, the victim would lose a tremendous amount of weight. Then, the main part of Achit: he would fill fluid in the abdomen until the victim is bloated.

 Another slide came up.  Another favorite of HCC: The John. In The John, HCC would give a huge strong blow on his victim’s right upper quadrant abdomen and it would block the flow of bile out of the liver. This result to excess of bile and bilirubin (one of its by-product), a pigment derived from dead red blood cells. Since bilirubin is yellow, the victim shows the appearance of yellow on the skin and eyes.

Can you imagine a skinny, bloated, yellow person? I don’t need to. I remembered. I remembered my father being like that and being weak and being in pain, oh my god, the pain. He would usually feel it on the right upper quadrant abdomen. I remembered I would wake up in the middle of the night, my mom would call for me and I would go straight to the kitchen, filled a bowl with hot-warm water, and soaked a small towel in it. Then I went straight to my dad, who was lying on the bed and moaning in pain. I placed the cloth on the area of the pain and gave two pills of strong painkiller. And I would quietly pray. Pray. Pray while he went through the pain. Pray so the pain went away quickly. Pray that this phase would end. Pray that he would live.

Before another slide came up, I walked out of the room, while holding my breath, in order to not show any emotion on my face, as if I just needed to go to the toilet. As I closed the door behind me, I let out a huge gasp, letting the air rush into my lungs while tears ran down my face. It’s been a while since my dad passed away, but I remembered him every day. I remembered the pain, the suffering, and tears he went through. I remembered an attempt we tried to fight HCC called The Himo. It’s currently one of method that shows success when fighting with any member of Kanker. The idea of The Himo is that: you have to be killed to live. It’s basically taking in poison. There’s many type of The Himo, for HCC, its call TACE. The night after the TACE, I sat the entire night next to my dad’s hospital bed. He was in so much pain. The worst I've seen. I don’t know if he slept that night because he was moaning in pain the entire night or throwing up blood. This might sound fucked up, but I’m glad I was there to hold a tray when he threw up. I wasn't there most of the part when this happened to him, but I’m glad I was there during that time, I was there to go through a bit with him. Something I’ll never forget.  

 I vowed to be the one who will kill, no, to erase HCC from the world. Currently, the force can’t take him down. He is too strong. He is still out there, torturing someone’s father or mother. One day will come when I will directly stare at his face, and when that moment comes, I would be holding the perfect gun, fingers on the trigger that will end his life. I will have my revenge. I swear on that.       

In loving memory of Nasaruddin Bin Md Razali.

An amazing father, husband, friend, and human.

1961-2013