I have taken a long time away from writing. The day job and the late nights have been an obstacle. My creative work suffered. But now I've decided to strike a consistent balance.

The piece I'm about to write is based on a true tragic event that occurred in Enugu last year. The story has always been in my head. I have always wanted to tell it. And here it goes.

In the past I've posted my stories in the literature section but I believe this one is more appropriate for the romance section. That's why I'm here. Please come in and read. You can also check my profile and read my previous stories. I promise you'll be entertained. If you like my work, take out time to visit my blog and drop comments. Thank you and welcome.

Erniesmallzz coman read

oya go and buy popcorn

Cutehector:




Erniesmallzz coman read

8-)

ErnieSmallzz:
oya go and buy popcorn

anything for u

and buy small stout 2 oh, a crate is ok

Cutehector:
anything for u

Buy pop corn fast, e don dey start

ErnieSmallzz:
and buy small stout 2 oh, a crate is ok

lol stout is for big girls... have u drink beer befor?

PROLOGUE: A Night of Sex and Murder.

The knife gently dropped from her hand, clattering on the floor. Her knees sank on the floor as she gasped, struggling for breathe. The air had suddenly become dank. She could hear the soft hum of the air conditioner but it still felt like nature has sucked away all the oxygen.

Her mind was racing. There were voices in her head. She wanted to scream out at them, make them stop. But somehow she felt powerless. The music playing from the music home theater was not helping either. Joe's old school I wanna Know had been on repeat for as long as she had been there. In the past, the song would have soothed her, but tonight it drove her to madness.

Madness! That was what she felt. She looked around the dimly lit sitting room that had been her home for four months. It had been a place of laughter, fun, friendship and romance but tonight it was a place of betrayal and death.

At the thought of death, she glanced down at her hands. They were bloodied. She felt an air of superiority as she looked down on her clothes. She was drenched in blood. She suddenly felt powerful, briefly subduing the voices in her head. She held the power of life and death and tonight she had taken life.

Slowly her eyes traveled to the bodies on the floor. It was a scene of massacre. A couple lay dead, stabbed all over. A feeling of elation washed over her as she took it all in...the mutilated flesh, the river of blood. The couple were naked and she had made sure she totally damaged those private parts that led them to sin.

Sin in her own home. Her sanctuary. A place that her husband should have kept holy. Only two days ago, he renewed vows of loyalty to her, made her feel like the only woman in the world, made love to her in the most passionate way, and then betrayed her. And with her best friend.

She felt the anger again. Instantly, she picked up the bloodied knife and descended on the dead woman's corpse. As if willing her to live again so she could kill her once again, she pulled her up and stabbed her again and again. Then she broke down crying. Like a needy child, she held the woman's body, cuddling her. She had been everything to her, had been a sister and a best friend. She had loved them both and they had betrayed her.

Of all the men in the world, how could her best friend sleep with her husband? And how could he disrespect her so. They had taken away her happiness. She was lifeless, a dead man walking.

Angrily she pushed the corpse away, hanging on to the knife. She stares mournfully at the knife. It was all over
Her life was over. They were all bound in life and in death. She had made a vow and she would keep it.

Chioma slumped on the floor, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling. They said that life flashed through someone's eyes before his death. The last 48 hours flashed through her head instantly. As she gasped for breath, holding the knife embedded into her stomach, Chioma recalled everything, the love she had and lost.

boring..........

The playing music jolted Chioma from her wild, barbaric imaginations. Joe singing. It was her husband's favorite song. They had made love to the song countless times. And now her husband was playing it for her best friend.

She sat on the sofa in the dimly lit sitting room, holding the phone, her phone in her hand. It was what had led her to them. A simple mistake. A frantic tumble and a mistake. It had become her proof and she had set them up. Now looking around the room, she saw that her plan had worked. There were scattered clothes, a nearly empty bottle of wine and two glasses, her handbag, his phone. Now was the time to confront those cheating bastards.

She got up, picked the remote and shut off the home theater. Then she took out her phone. Gently scrolling through her speed dial, she found her best friend's contact. She sat back calmly and dialed the number.

In the quiet of the night, the sound of the ringing phone filled the sitting room. Chioma sat calmly and waited for the inevitable storm. It was time to confront the lovers.

curvysola:
boring..........

Awww so sad. Not writing again.

curvysola:
boring..........

Clara was in Cloud 9. Whatever Ebuka was doing to her in the bathtub was the most pleasurable thing she had felt.

The scene was one of erotic romance only witnessed in Hollywood movies. That Ebuka was romantic enough to conjure it up was beyond her imagination.

There were candles, at least a dozen, lit at strategic points in the bathroom. Then he had ran a foam bath. And now, his head was buried under the water, giving her the best sucking. There was something so sensual about sex under water and tonight she was experiencing it and didn't want it to end.

Briefly he raised his head to catch his breath. She pulled him close and kissed his foamy lips, caressing his hard, masculine body. She wanted him to penetrate her there and then. As she pulled her closer to him, the faint sound of a ringing phone filtered in.

She stopped instantly, frowning. She listened. The ringing continued. He paused too listening. Shocked. It couldn't be.

'That's my phone', she whispered, alarmed.
'That's not possible', he breathed...'unless...'

The passion died off momentarily. She grabbed her towel and disentangled from him, drying herself. The ringing continued. Mystified he grabbed another towel. Naked, they stepped out of the bath, toweling off.

The phone continued ringing. They exchanged one last look of uncertainty before they headed out...