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CH 10 will be out on Tuesday. Thanks for the continued interest in Duhu

Chapter 44 will be out on Tuesday. Thanks for following

INDUSTRIALFAN:
Now I don't like the air.... It's putrid.. why not allow the man of the house do his damn thing at his own pace? Zainab's dad is too involved in her family's affairs for a man.

Asin, it's like the only thing he got to do was propose and then say "I do" at the wedding. The rest was tightly controlled by Zainab's family. His job, his house, his car, where he goes etc though not enough time to really show it in the story. Honestly the father really just saw him as source of grandchildren lol

Ann2012:
Interesting story, well done @just2day

Thanks for your chimeing in. Glad you are entertained.

It's not easy adapting an era one has not lived in and capturing the feel of it. The medieval times with its damsels, knights, Lords, castles, speech and violence though usually romanticized tends to be a compelling read. Nice to see someone tackling the less traveled paths here.

Funny thing to note, I read a medieval/sci fi book months ago where a Lord, his knights, vassals and peasants were whisked off into space. They end up having to adapt to tech and conquering a galaxy in their search to return home. You just happen to be writing both a...

goodluck

We are the orchestrator of our own darkness

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 09

"She is gone."

"No."

"Tope, she is gone."

"No!"

She poured her all into that single word, soon fainting from the exhaustion of her young mind. Emeka gathered her unwilling body into his arms, running a hand through dada hair he knew so well. He began to walk back towards the forest.

"Stop."

In the voice was a subtle hint of restrained violence. Fear crept into Emeka's heart his feet refusing to lift, the voice carrying with it a faint force he could not disobey. He did not know what these people wanted, but what he did know was Tope's mom died because of them. They might not have pulled the trigger but their presence had set in motion these events. The fear melted away to be replaced by a simmering anger. His shoulders slightly lifted from their drooped and defeated stance, his back straightening. Emeka did not turn around.

All this did not go unnoticed by Ola. Looks like the kid has some backbone after all. 

"Where did these men come from?"

"I don't know. Three strange men appeared at our village this morning, two were dressed like these guys with the guns."

There was no tremble in his voice, his mind treasuring that small victory. With a thumb he pointed to the man Ola had shot in the head. Behind the lifeless body was a sign saying 'Welcome to Oyo', half of it now painted with a splattering of still dripping red.

"You say only two were dressed like this?"

"Yes, the third person was not like them. He was..."

Emeka shivered when he thought about that man.

"He was what? Out with it."

"He looked evil. Even the village hunters were scared of him. He was skinny, skin as dark as night and he had a thin scar on his cheek. It was like death followed him wherever he went."

"Tell me what were the color of his eyes!"

A hand clasped Emeka's shoulders and spun him around. He looked up to see a ferocious woman with fire from the depths of hell in her eyes. Never did he think within a day he would see another person who sent a chill down his spine. Mouth drying up, he struggled to free himself, his only thought, to get as far away from her as possible but her grip resisted with ease. She squeezed harder, his shoulder numbing from the force, his knees buckling, landing heavily on the hard pavement and shocking his nervous system. Still her hold did not lessen.

"I don't know! I was too far away."

In his hands, Tope remained unharmed, his full focus now on her protection as tears threatened to spring from his eyes. Emeka felt the pressure lessen.

"That was all I saw from my window. He brought out money from a bag he carried. The elders took him in. I swear on my life that is all I saw."

"Malozi he seems to be telling the truth, you can let him go."

"Get this straight Ola, you don't give me orders. Not now not ever... sir."

"Ever is a long time for hearts to change Malozi."

"Scram!"

With a snarl she let go of Emeka, her eyes now leveled on Ola. Emeka got up, his feet ready to explode towards the safety of the forest.

"Stop."

Again Emeka was rooted to the spot, unable to take another step, that voice containing an unexplained power. A peace came over him as he came to terms with what he felt was going to happen.

"Please, I understand you have to silence all witnesses but spare her. She is just a child. She knows nothing. Who would believe her anyway."

"Do I look like a murderer! What would make you even think that?!"

Ola exploded, his brow knitting in displeasure. Emeka's head unwittingly turned to the man with a hole in his head. He was not subtle about it .

"Okay, yes I shot that guy, but it was self defense. I don't make it a habit to silence children. She's the one who needs a leash..."

"I don't know what to say." A strong sense of relief loosening Emeka's tense muscles.

"For now just stop talking. Malozi, you have money on you?"

It wasn't really a question. There wasn't a chance on such an operation the team leader would not be carrying at least one black duffel bag of cash. Before the turn of the century it had been 'Ghana must go' bags that had been used. The bright multi colors had later been seen as counter-intuitive for the line of work. Malozi paused, she contemplated punishing Ola for the 'leash' comment but decided to put it on the back burner for now, making her way to the Range Rover.

"So tell me your name."

"I'm Emeka and this is Tope."

Protectively he held her while uttering the child's name, 

"Pretty names. Were you here when they set up the accident?"

Emeka nodded, recounting all he saw.

"There's a path less than a kilometer behind us you can pass that will skirt the blocked road."

"Is it wide enough for a car?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it."

"Alright then."

Grabbing his fallen gun, Ola rose, dusting the knees of his shorts, his finger smearing and smudging rather than cleaning anything.

"Here, this should be more than enough."

A small black bag flew through the air to land in front of Emeka with a thud. He didn't go near it.

"I called it in, cleanup crew should be here in about half an hour."

"Any survivors among your team?"

"Yes, I patched them up as best I could but they aren't fit to travel. Plus I think we might be better off if we went incognito."

"Who would have thought a convoy of 10 armored vehicles doesn't really blend in."

She ignored his snide comment.

"We have four hours to get to Lagos. Get your butt in gear and let's go."

Ola sauntered after her, making the effort to focus on anything but her profile. He had a sneaky suspicion she had eyes on the back of her head and was waiting for an excuse to rain down pain. Before stepping into the car he turned once more to look at the duo who still hadn't moved.

"Your village is likely no more."

Ola saw traces of conflicting emotions in Emeka's eyes. He was not a stranger to it, recognizing easily what the boy was thinking. It would be a cold hard journey. Feeling nostalgic he paused.

"If you ever decide to take revenge, come to Lagos. Duhu is who you want to find. Be certain before you embark on this dark road."

The jeep roared to life, the smell of burning rubber rising as Malaozi swung the car around and sped away, bodies in her wake. A passed out Tope in his arms, Emeka watched the Range, hatred seeping out of every pore. At first he walked away from the black bag but then he looked at Tope. Returning, he pulled back the zipper revealing stacks and stacks of thousand Naira notes and a few stacks of hundred dollar bills. On any other day, he would have been shocked beyond reason but too much had happened.  Still the hatred misting from his body did not diminish an iota. Grabbing the bag he disappeared into the forest.

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I am brave, I am bruised, I am whom I'm meant to be

TANGENT - To those readers who have been with me since the start, now that the end is nearly in sight I'd like to say thank you for sticking it out. For those who joined along the way, your additions were a source of encouragement. And to the commenters and that person who has been liking the chapters, your actions have more than once pushed me to keep my pen moving. Thanks   

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 43

Gone was the moon, hidden behind pregnant clouds rolling in from the deep. Lightning streaked through the air, thin branches shooting out, searching, seeking for what mortals cannot fathom. Its brilliance lit up the city, among which was a man standing in front of a wrought iron gate watching the red lights of a car fade into the night as he crushed a cigarette beneath his heel.

The gate swung open, recognizing it's master, wishing to please. In the distance Namdi saw home blending with the night, the gravel driveway unlit. Through the gate he took a heavy step, the first of many, a firm understanding the end of this path would change everything.

In his heart Namdi was not an evil man, or so he told himself, his head unable to lift high enough to search the skies. Trudging along the path, the gravel crunching beneath his shoe, he thought of how similar this walk was to the hallway of the hospital on that fateful day. 

Slipping past the gossiping nurses had not been difficult, few truly see a child. All he had to do was make it through a dark hallway containing odors of disinfectant sickness and death. The power had gone out in the hospital, the backup generator taking its time. He had never been one of those kids who feared the dark but there was something about that stretch of tiled floor and the red glow of emergency lights which forced him to take a step back while entertaining thoughts of turning tail. Something stronger held him, dousing the fear, replacing it with a courage born of the unfathomable love between mother and child. 

Each step he took was heavier than the last, his body hugging the wall, his chattering teeth betraying a cold not born of the weather. At the end of the hallway he could see his goal. Double doors leading to the ward he knew she would be. Though his mind urged to go faster, his feet refused to listen. It was already a small miracle he didn't just cower on the spot. Closer and closer the double doors came, till he was only a few steps away. Thoughts of lying in bed with her, arms smelling of cocoa butter wrapping around him further dimmed the fear he still harbored as warmth took over. The double doors swung open, not by his hands.

A gurney swept out, a doctor and team of nurses guiding its path, their passenger covered completely with a white sheet. Not a word was said about Namdi who currently hugged the wall. Few truly see a child. Not wishing to spend another minute in the hallway, Namdi walked through those double doors to find his mom, not realizing they had just missed each other. 

"If only I had been braver."

A grown up Namdi thought, unable to forgive himself for missing the chance to see his mother one last time. He looked up for the first time since this gravel filled walk. His heart steeled, his mind preparing for what was to come. Firm were his footsteps, though still heavy, lifting with a once missing strength. Lightning flashed once again and thunder hammered in the distance; as if in approval of his path. He could now see the car park. It was not empty.

A Mercedes sat there where his used to be, identical in every way, illuminated for a split second by natures power. Approaching the car park, a light came on, his eyes had not been misguided. "Her father" he thought, memories of their time on the balcony forcing his heart into a faster rhythm. The strength he had gained began to bleed away, fear replacing it once again. All thoughts of the truth died a pitiful death his mind racing for another path to take. Unknown to Namdi time had run out. 

The door to their home quietly opened with Namdi a few lengths away. Gone was the metal that once stood in stark contrast to the elegance around it. Its replacement mahogany possessing history. A door graceful, refined, melding with the home but still somehow possessing a certain unintended je ne sais quoi. Leaning against it was Zainab, her 5ft5 frame looking larger than life. Across the space of a few lengths they gazed at each other, each waiting for who would make the first move. 

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devilmaycry1:
wow nice story

Glad you enjoying it. your comment is much appreciated.

Like sand he slipped through my fingers

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 42

Within that office Namdi lingered. Outside the windows the lights disappeared, the city plunged into darkness. It now mirrored what lay within Namdi's office and heart. Still he saw not the path to which he should tread. In that dimly lit office he remained, staring out into the darkened city looking for answers.

Above, the universe shined brighter hovering over the blackened city, remaining silent to Namdi's prodding questions; finding them insignificant. It did not take long for much of the city to come back to life, alternate sources of power kicking in. A rare occurrence this was not, barely bringing a pause to the night. His phone buzzed. It was the uber he ordered passing along its impatience.

Standing in front of the elevator, he changed his mind upon hearing the ding, heading for the stairs. A single bulb hung at each floor, the doors requiring a key card to access. Having never taken the effort to ask why the elevator required no key card but the stair entrances did, Namdi did not give it a second thought today. Looking down he could see the steps winding their way to the hard ground. "There are two ways down", he thought. A thin film of dust coated the railing, dirtying his palm as he made his way from floor to floor.

With a hum, the door swung open to the swipe of his ID card. The cool night air was brisk and fresh; in stark contrast to the recycled artificially controlled climate he had been in for the better part of the day. In front of the building was a black Camry, the engine still running. Reaching the front passenger door, Namdi looked once more at the Shagari name on top the building before setting foot into the car.

Settling himself in the padded seat, Namdi hoped this would not be one of those talkative Uber drivers. He was far from the mood required for conversation, only hoping to take the chance to brood. With a single knuckle he began to tap a slow rhythm against the car window. 

"It's okay, you can laugh, I can see you need it."

Namdi's eyes closed, hoping his lack of a response would deter the driver from pursuing further conversation. 

"I won't be angry, all my other passengers have laughed."

At this point Namdi couldn't hide a puzzled expression creeping unto his features. Giving in he critically appraised his driver but nothing came to mind.

"Do you have any cigarettes?"

"You can check the glove box."

Opening the glove box Namdi found an unopened pack of White London. Turning to the center console he primed the cigarette lighter.

"You don't look like a smoker."

"Neither do you."

"Why then the pack of smokes?"

"Just in case... Do you feel free enough to laugh now?"

"Pray tell, why should I laugh?"

"You don't recognize me?"

"Should I? You don't look handsome enough to be a movie star."

The driver laughed.

"Maybe that's why she said no. You really haven't seen the video?"

"Tired of going in circles. What video?"

"I proposed to my girlfriend at the mall a few days ago."

His words struck a chord with Namdi.

"Wait, did she walk away?"

"So you have seen the video."

"Aren't you rich? What are you doing driving Uber?"

"I know it might seem strange but it's to meet people."

"There are easier ways to meet people; normal ways."

"Maybe, but it is not quite the same."

"Does that mean you won't be charging me for this ride."

He took his eyes off the road to look at Namdi and laughed. It was infectious, sending Namdi into a light chortle. The burden he carried lightened a little. 

"How are you able to laugh like this when your life was turned upside down only a few days ago?"

"Wish I could say it was easy. A little piece of me died that day as I watched her back get farther and farther away..."

"It's okay, you don't have to relive it."

"I use to think like that. Forget it ever happen, block it from my mind, forget her. It was all my friends knew to say."

It grew quiet in the car. Namdi turned back to the window, tapping out a soft rhythm. The cigarette lighter popped out.

"I can't forget her... Even now I see her, hear the tinkle of her voice, feel the heat of her touch... Have you ever loved someone so deeply you would...?"

The question hung still in the air unanswered, the world outside moving on regardless. With a nail Namdi tore into the cigarette pack, freeing a stick from its cage. Pressing the lighter against the end he took a deep drag, the nicotine coating his lungs. Out came the smoke, tumbling and swirling in the artificially maintained air. His hand reached out, his eyes seeing Zainab within the tendrils of smoke. 

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i'm enveloped in the joy of discovering what love is

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 08

Fierce beast turned and slapped Ola in the face, an act he was in no way prepared for. His right cheek sported a clear imprint of her making. Before the pain could register, she grabbed his neck pulling him into a heated kiss. His head spun, her lips soft to the touch, a little pink mounting an uncontested invasion beyond his pearly white gates. He could almost taste the lilacs. Pain forgotten, his hand reached out to grab her waist, an act that would not bear fruit. Head pulling away, her hand formed a fist that struck him squarely on the jaw. It was too much, the breakneck changes left Ola's mind reeling as he landed heavily on his bum, his gun falling to the side, the clouds above in full view.

"Don't touch me"

Delivered from the height of a conqueror she turned to leave but stopped.

"They call me Malaozi."

Uttered with the emotion of a dried piece of fish, she jogged to the convoy hoping to find survivors. Ola resisted the urge to watch her. Picking himself up he surveyed the world around him. The air was thick with the smell of blood. With a furrow of his brow he began to check for survivors among the traders who had enthusiastically hawked their wares merely minutes ago. Working his way from one corpse to the next he eventually stopped at a body with a rag still clenched tightly in its hand. It was the little boy. Up so close, he couldn't be more than eight. Unlike all the other bodies Ola had seen showing agony and unwillingness, the boys face only sported wide eyed confusion. With a sigh Ola knelt down and closed the opened eyes.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, may you find the peace lost in this life in the next."

Two fingers on the eyes he recited those words. They came out heavy, much like he had said it one too many times. The bullet had found his little heart. Death came in an instant, a small comfort.  The knees of his shorts were now stained red, a detail Ola showed no intent on acknowledging. Instead he looked out into the forest.

"You can come out now."

To the random observer it would appear he was having a conversation with the lifelike trees. Nothing happened. With a shrug of his shoulders he moved on to the next body. It was a woman, pretty even in death. Her fair skin now pale with the heavy loss of blood. She must have been even more beautiful in life, what a waste. A piece of her dress had been partially torn. Someone didn't want to let go. With two fingers Ola pressed against her neck, between the wind pipe and neck muscle. It's elegance did not retain much warmth but to Ola's surprise he felt a faint pulse.

"Malaozi get a first aid kit here now!"

The shout rang out, two sets of feet pounding the pavement heading towards him.

"Mother!"

Ola was not surprised when a girl and a youth appeared at his side. The girl rushed to her mother but was held back by Ola.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

She threw little fists at the hand that held her as she shouted. The boy who came out with her held in his hand a branch which he hoisted in an unsure manner.

"Calm down little one, your mom is in a critical state."

"No! No! No!"

She struggled on, tears falling, her feet now kicking out viciously. Still it was not enough to free her from Ola's hold.

"Boy, get her to calm down."

At that point the woman who lay there at deaths door opened her eyes.

"Mommy..."

The sound was heartbreaking, a mixture of a child's hope and a new understanding of despair.

"Omo mi Tope is that you..."

Her voice was weak, barely audible. Ola released Tope, allowing her to reach her mothers side, her tears splashing on her mothers cheeks. Malaozi approached, a first aid kit in hand but Ola waved her away. It was too late, she only had a few minutes left regardless of what they did.

"Mommy, Tope is sorry, I promise to always listen, please don't..."

"Hush child. I saw your grandmother. She said she has always watched over you. I will..."

A weak cough came over her, blood splashing out of her mouth onto the dress Tope wore. A hand lacking strength reached up to rub against Tope's cheek, falling back before it could make a sliver of contact. Tope caught it, bringing it to her cheek, bathing it in tears.

"I promise not to say I'll marry Emeka again, just please don't go mommy, don't go, don't..."

The last thread of life left the body as Tope embraced her mother, sobs enveloping that stretch of deathly road between two lines of forest. The trees bowed, touched by the love of a mother and child or maybe just in answer to the wind. Emeka stood there, his fist clenching, nails digging into his palms till they drew blood. He cursed his powerlessness, his ability to do nothing but stand there watching helplessly as the one person who had shown him kindness suffered. Overcome, his face rose to the sky and he began to howl.

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For an early look at CH 08 you can click here

https://1001lives./2018/05/02/hidden-darkness-ch-08/

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INDUSTRIALFAN:
Permit me to say... Namdi is either a weakling or a freaking bastard. You have such a beautiful and loving wife with whom you have no dull moment and you obviously very much are still attracted to her yet you choose to fall over again for a woman who practically kidnapped and raped you. You have had words with your wife's father and you know the man wouldn't flinch to ruin your entire life and possibly kill you if you hurt his daughter yet you choose to remain stüpid. I officially don't like Namdi and feel sorry for Zainab.

Lolz, I think he might have the tendency to be both. Each time, he holds onto that ribbon, intent on staying true, only for the slightest temptation to make him forget. When I started writing this, I intended for Zainab to be the villain and Namdi to be the victim. As decisions were made by the characters it didn't turn out quite like that.

Thanks for the summary; for following and noticing the minute details

There's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 41

Bittersweet, a paradox widely accepted. Namdi understood it more as his wife's name slid from his lips in the presence of his, this other woman... Even now he did not know who she truly was. What he could not deny is the connection that existed between them. Had what felt like half a life time truly been less than a week? Namdi questioned, his eyes still trained on the city beyond the clear windows. 

Beside his still figure Bisi's lips moved, silently mouthing the name she just heard. Her eyes closed, her heart steadying. 

"It suits her. Have you told her?"

"I think she knows." 

Quiet, stifling and heavy, it held Namdi's heart in its cold grip. He did not fight it, his spirit seeking penance for the hunger he knew still grew in his soul.   

"Why me?"

He asked her with his gaze still on the city lights, an answer not forthcoming. Her hand reached for her tummy instead, a far off look in her eye. The same palm left and pressed against the transparent cold glass.

"If you had to choose between us and her..."

Namdi reached out to Bisi, stopping mid way, his arm visibly shaking before it fell back to his side. Words failed him. There was no change in Bisi, her mind fully focused on the seed deep within the reflection before her. It was like the words she spoke had never been said. A chasm grew between them as one awoke from a dream of pleasure and nightmare intertwined. 

Making his way to his desk, Namdi grabbed his shoe off the table. The heel had left a muddy print right on the Shagari logo stamped on a document outlining possible payouts for the fire. The brown colored the black and white symbol of a closed fist with the pinky extended. It always reminded him of the times he would make a promise as a child. 

"What did you see that night?"

"I'm not sure, it was too dark to tell."

"Whatever you remember could be helpful." 

"I thought I saw someone... but it could have been the shadows playing tricks."

"Fire marshal said there was no foul play."

"Then I guess I saw nothing."

To Namdi it seemed she wanted to say more. Reaching across the desk, he hit a button dimming the lights, a hope she finds comfort in the anonymity of darkness. The twinkling glow looked more vibrant. He waited, once again glancing at her outline. On her lithe neck he saw the glint of a thin chain. 

"It looked like she was running away."

"You mean 'he' was running away."

"No, it was a woman. Or a man with long hair. I'm not sure, I had just woken up, I could smell..."

Her voice faltered. Still she only looked out into the city, refusing to turn around, held by the gentle cover of darkness.

"I lost my mother in a fire."

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, the mismatched memories of a child freshly unearthed in her mind. Her hand reached for the pendant hidden beside her heart. 

"If only I hadn't..."

Two strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind. Turning from the city she faced Namdi, sobbing onto his shoulder.

"I too lost my mom when I wasn't grown. She died in a hospital."

His teeth clenched when he thought of the night he had lost her. As she heard him, her heart ached for him; understanding the pain of loss making them kindred spirits.  

"He only needed to pay for the operation. The stingy bastard. I vowed from that day I would not live a life lacking..."

He did not say his last words loud enough for Bisi to hear. Pulling away from his embrace she wiped the tears threatening to still fall. From her pocket she brought out a card and pressed it into the palm of his hand.

"In case you change your mind, you can find me there."

Her finger reached up pressing against Namdi's lips stopping whatever words he was about to say. Planting a kiss on his cheek she walked out of his life for a time.

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In the face of death we are most alive

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 07

A symphony of death played its heartless tune as the gods watched from above with indifference. Blood flowed, the road its parchment, a river of red its masterpiece. Screams of men and women intermingled as they were cut down by the emotionless slugs ripping through their fragile bodies. Those who died quickly were the envy of the terminal who lay there gasping from the excruciating pain, an unexplained understanding, the reaper would not be leaving empty handed this day. More than a few cried to their gods for rescue, for solace, for revenge; cries they would not live to see answered.

A child knelt in the midst of it all, tears falling freely. She lacked the ability to understand why her mom would be sleeping with the pandemonium occurring around them. Her childlike innocence sheltered her, harbingers of death never finding even a wisp of her dada hair as she shook her mom in a futile attempt to wake her. Through the tears she could not see; only feel a hand dragging her away. Desperately she clung to her mom but her strength could not contend, the fabric of her mom slipping through her fingers.

Within a bullet proof range rover with shattered glass, Ola lay pressed against the ground. In his face were two soft mounds of feminine wiles. If I knew bullets was what it took to get a face full I would have had us shot at a long time ago. Each breath he took came with the scent of lilacs; intense, heady and sweet. Forgotten was the very real large quantity of bullets that were currently searching for his head. Deftly his hand reached out, exploring, wishing to unearth the many secrets on top of him. Running along the back of the fierce beast's thigh, his fingers made its way to what he hoped was a soft shapely bottom. Within Ola's body his blood tumbled, excitement building. His actions did not go unnoticed.

Her knee found every mans weakness, sending tears to his eyes and a shooting pain he failed to ignore. His body involuntarily struggled to rise but she pinned him down with surprising skill. Ruthless is what she is but god her body is a delight. Her foot reached up opening the door where their head wasn't. With a finger to her lips she began to slide out. In her hand was a Belgium made FN P90. Turning, Ola saw the well hidden open compartment. Reaching inside he came out with a handgun before silently sliding out after her. Beside the back tire they crouched, a vicious look appearing each time the Beast looked at Ola. Her machine gun kept training its sights on him. She must be running out of reasons  not to shoot me. Not fazed in the least Ola rammed an ammo clip in and pulled the slide to check if one was in the chamber. From the simple motion he could feel the gun was well maintained. Memories of the first time he was at the shooting range with father began to surface but he suppressed them.

None of this went unnoticed by the lady beside him. Using tactical signals she motioned for him to remain here. Stubbornly Ola shook his head. With a sigh she pointed at him, cupped her hand and pat her head. With a raised fist, Ola acknowledged he would cover her. No longer did the sound of automatic weapons fill the air. They must be reloading. Their thoughts in sync, Fierce beast, double checked the clip in her gun, flipped to semi auto, took a slightly bent stance, placed the butt stock against her shoulder, pressed her cheek against it enjoying the cool body; and waited. A tap to her shoulder immediately sent her out of the cover of the car, Ola right at her heels.

A change came over her as she stepped out into the line of fire. Gone was the vicious look that had been directed at Ola, replaced with a calm calculating gaze. Her finger showed love to the trigger, a familiar friend, gently squeezing as she laid eyes on the enemy. They were easy to spot, every one wore dark sunglasses and suit. More importantly they each carried the same model of Kalashnikov, famously known as the AK-47. It was a beautiful gun, perfect blend of metal and wood. It would fire in the rain, mud, heat or snow. So easy to operate, even a child could load and fire it. Thoughts of the feel generated a heat in her that was not coming from the currently firing P90.

In short bursts she fired, her burgundy leather jacket flapping in the wind as she walked. An angel of death, showing no urgency while picking her targets and squeezing her trusty trigger. Frantically her enemies struggled to reload in a bid to send her to the depths of hell where she belonged. One by one they watched their comrades fall in a shower of red, bodies riddled with holes. Each step she took sent another to be judged by whatever truth existed in the afterlife till only one remained; his gun finally loaded and brought to bear. It was a couple seconds too late for the angel of death had already leveled her scythe and pulled to reap. The bolt moved, hammer struck and nothing happened. The man who saw death as an inevitability now faced a new hope. With the change in circumstance, there was no change in the eyes of the Beast as she calmly watched the loaded Kalashnikov rising to fill her with lead. Before the man could savor this change in fortune, a hole appeared on his forehead, a now smoking gun in Ola's hand.

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In the world of dreams none can come between us

BISI – THE OTHER WOMAN CH 40

Papers lay strewn covering every inch of the table. Namdi sat at his chair, two fingers rubbing his temple in an attempt to stave an impending headache. The fire marshals report on the fire had come in that morning. After slogging through pages of bureaucratic nonsense he had seen the definitive conclusion. An electrical outlet had been the spark.

It had been a busy day. Between ordering the mahogany door to replace the current front entrance of their home and fielding the many many well wishes of his co-workers, he found little time to relax. How they had found out about his condition left him perplexed. At first he suspected his father in law but it just wasn’t the style of the man. Pushing the thought aside, he fiddled with the controls at his desk to increase the opacity of the floor to ceiling windows that covered one wall of his office. His goal, to let in some natural light to brighten the stifling atmosphere. Rather than sunlight he was greeted with a city at night.

Surprised Namdi reached for his phone to confirm what nature had already stated. In a hurry he packed his things. Ignoring the papers still scattered on his desk he made his way out the office, his thumb in a flurry of motion as he ordered an uber. Closing the door to his office he noticed the quiet of an empty building floor. Being last in the office had not happened in ages. It was at that moment he realized he would not want to give up this life. Walking to the elevator his thoughts returned to Zainab and their morning together. Reaching into his pocket he brought out the ribbon she had stuffed into it, his fingers holding onto it tightly. She was probably at home now waiting for him. With a ding the elevator doors opened. It was not empty.

In front of Namdi was one who had ceased to be a stranger. In her hands was a pair of shoes he was familiar with. They were his, forgotten in a time when his mind had buckled. There were no words spoken, merely an exchange of a gaze that held in it more information than speech could contain. A connection brought into existence only through the union of two bodies in carnal bliss.

Bisi swept past him, a storm of fragrance lingering in her wake. She did not look back, an underlying tacit agreement thick in the air, leaving a trail for him to follow.

Namdi stood there in front of the open elevator knowing he only needed to take a step forward into its open maw. With a ding the doors began to close. It was salvation he both wanted to grasp and needed to let slip away. The allure of the forbidden fruit having too strong a hold for one to step from. The mind rationalizes to fulfill one’s desires. In his fingers the ribbon remained firmly clasped as he followed the fragrance to his office.

Within, she set herself before the glass; staring out into the city, her reflection faint and as beautiful as the physical specimen she was. An untamed forest of hair stood up, adding a wildness to her. A wildness he had both seen and experienced. Much of her smooth caramel colored back and shoulders lay bare thanks to the purple halterneck she wore. He saw no strap running horizontally along her back. Namdi remained at the door quietly watching, his shoes now resting on a stack of papers that had temporarily lost all significance. Her apple bottom remained covered by a black miniskirt reaching her mid thigh leaving the rest of her toned legs for the gods to see.

“The city is gorgeous at night.”

“I thought so too my first night here.”

“You should come look.”

Namdi hesitated, then slowly walked up beside her, an arms length between them. Together they looked out into the city unable to hear the sounds. Lights twinkled to rival those in the skies above. A long line of red stretched for miles over the water in the distance, commuters stuck in traffic as they raced home to empty or loving homes. The city beat a steady rhythm unlike the hearts within the two who watched from their lofty perch between the earth and the heavens.

“Met your wife today.”

Namdi’s soul shook, a million thoughts a second racing through his mind.

“She is even prettier in person. You never told me her name.”

A sudden insignificant detail suddenly held meaning beyond compare. From his fingers, the ribbon fluttered to land unnoticed on the floor.

“Zainab, her name is Zainab.”



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Adamummya:
nice one

Thank you for your favorable words.

After mulling over how to compress/wrapup the story, dealing with technical issues and travelling to villages without internet, I think I should be able to resume every other day releases till this story is finished.

Thanks to all the readers for your forced patience

devilmaycry1:
wow ride on oooooooo

Thanks! Working on not losing steam

Hislordship12:
I can't wait for the new update

Your anticipation is welcomed. I too look forward to the possibilities.

The hand of fate recognizes no creed

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 06

A rooster croaked out its greeting to the dawn in a sleepy little village on the border of Osun and Oyo state. Within all the nondescript mud huts, movement began as villagers prepared to face life once again. Among them was Emeka, at that awkward age when he’s no longer considered a boy but barely considered a man. Emeka had a routine quite different from the rest of the villagers. Through his window he watched the village elder lead everyone to the shrine at the center of the village. A few noticed him watching. Some sneered while others were unable to hide the pity in their eyes. With a sigh Emeka looked away, reaching under his pillow. With exaggerated care he brought out two items, an aged picture and Gideon bible.

His eyes grew moist. A tear he could not hold back splashed onto a black and white couple with beaming smiles. Pride in their eyes, their hands held a little bundle. The photo was worn, fading from the edges and a singed corner evidence it was rescued from a fire long ago. Still, the features of the couple were clear. Wiping the tear with his thin blanket, Emeka picked up the bible and began to read.

Early morning was not infinite. Emeka’s morning ritual came to an end with a silent prayer. None but him knew what they contained. Outside his window, the villagers too had finished their worship and were making their way to their homes to prepare. It was then they noticed they had visitors. This was a rare occurrence for the sequestered village. Emeka watched as the women gathered the children to their respective huts while the men joined the village elder who walked to where the visitors stood. A little boy broke away from the women’s encirclement in an attempt to follow the men. He was soon caught and dragged back kicking and screaming.

They were three in number. Though the sun had not shown it’s true face, two wore dark sunglasses which gave them an unapproachable look. In-between these two was a man with an oily smile carrying a mid sized black bag. Compared to the two thick men he was skinny as a palm tree. For Emeka, he gave of the airs of a poisonous snake one had to be wary of. The man’s eyes were constantly shifting. A single thin scar ran down his right cheek. His skin was as dark as dark could be and even in this light heat he was sweating. The village men tensed up, they too seeming to sense the thin man was dangerous. They were too far away for Emeka to hear the words being said but when the thin man reached into the bag and brought out bundles of naira notes, he saw the tense look of the village men immediately turn to greed.

All having disappeared into the elders hut, Emeka pushed it to the back of his mind and began to gather the bush snails he had caught in the forest surrounding their village. It took a good eye to spot the snails which blended so well in the bush. It was a 7 kilometer walk to the inter state road where he could hawk his wares. He was always the first to reach the road, hoping to catch the early commuters. It would be a vicious battle between the red orb in the sky and his sanity if he couldn’t sell all the snails before the noon day heat. Tucking the picture and bible safely into his pocket he made his way to the wooden door with basket of snails in hand.

Opening the door revealed a surprise.

“Tope what are you doing here!?”

At Emeka’s door was a young girl with two small kegs of water in hand and a mischievous grin on her face.

“Water from the stream in case you don’t finish selling by noon.”

With an outstretched hand, Emeka ruffled her dada hair.

“If your mom saw you here you would be in big trouble.”

“Humf, I’m a big girl now she can’t punish me.”

“Haha, see this cute little girl that isn’t even 16 yet.”

“But brother Emeka, i’ll be 16 soon, then I can marry you.”

She puffed up her chest in an attempt to look older, standing on her tippy toes and still not reaching Emeka’s shoulder. This made her look even cuter, causing Emeka’s laughter to grow.

“You have to turn 14 first and aren’t you forgetting you’ve been promised to another.”

“I don’t care, I will only marry brother Emeka.”

“Child you have to…”

“Don’t call me child just because you turned 18.”

Emeka could see the threat of tears in her childlike eyes. Bending down he hugged her innocence, driving the flood back and relieving her of her burdens. She beamed as she watched him disappear into the forest with her kegs in hand. Only when she could see him no longer did she return to where her mother was preparing breakfast.

Through the forest along a well worn path, Emeka raced. The wind was cool against his fair skin. Sure footed, outcrop of roots and rocks posed no risk to him as he made his way nimbly around them. It did not take long before the street came into view. Cresting the edge of the forest, he was shocked to see men tipping a bus over. It fell down with a crash, covering the road. The earth shook from the impact. They wore clothes similar to that of the men who spoke to the elder. Puzzled, Emeka crept back under the cover of the forest where he could observe without being seen. Soon after, the men disappeared into the forest on the opposite end of where Emeka hid.

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Trust not your eyes to see the world. Illusions/mirages abound

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 05

The air carried a distinct new car smell mixed with authentic leather and a faint mysterious scent. In its mystery it lingered, neither overpowering nor displeasing. Rather it tended to lull one into a sense of peace. Whether this peace would be false or not was covered with a layer of fog.

In all its hysterics, the laughter never reached Ola's eyes. It rang hollow in his ears. All it should have contained had leaked with the passing of time. Ola's laughter ended as suddenly as it began; an eerie quiet replaced the dying echoes within the confines of the vehicle. At the wheel, the suited man grabbed tighter unto the steering wheel while inching forward, his eyes looking straight ahead with pain staking intensity.

Outward calm returning to him, Ola turned to the person who delivered the news.

"Beautiful."

As his gaze brazenly swept her body, his word washed over her with the effect of a candle in a brightly lit room. On the chair, she sat less like a queen and more the figure of a general who had no concept of being disobeyed. Unlike the rest of the security detail who wore suits of blended wool and cashmere, her upper torso sported an open burgundy leather jacket over a pure white blouse. From her, Ola felt a tightly contained sense of danger. At first he thought it was due to the lean, explosive, athletic build she possessed but that assessment was soon discarded. If I close my eyes it will feel like I'm caged in with a tiger brought in from the wild.

"How?"

"The official public version is that he died peacefully in the hospital."

"And the unofficial version?"

"I am not at liberty to say with your level clearance in the family."

Ola's eyes turned cold, his full attention finding a home on the two sculpted cores that held steady on her chest. Must be cause of clients like me that there aren't so many women in security. The few that existed were highly sought after. He noticed a flicker in her eye when she saw where he had leveled his gaze but she did nothing, unfazed. I'd hate to be the man who had to tame her, or maybe she's into women. On her head was a faded glory hair cut, the top a small tower of black curls. Having failed at bringing out some form of response from the ice cube beside him, Ola turned and muttered.

"I'm surprised it took this long for the old bastard to kick..."

A hand shot out striking Ola right below his Adam's apple. His airway compressed cutting off his speech as he doubled over from the pain.

"Don't speak ill of your father in front of me."

There was no emotion in her words, her hands reaching out and grabbing a comm device.

"Package has been acquired. Lead vehicle you are clear for departure."

Ola had recovered enough to take a breath, the pain subsiding to manageable levels. Without a word he lunged at her, aiming to gain his pound of flesh. Only the middle seat separated them. A distance he was sure he could cover before she could react. He didn't get far, having greatly underestimated his opponent.  What is wrong with this woman!? Pointed at the center of his head was a nine millimeter glock. Her finger caressed the trigger like a jilted lover who had been given a second chance.

Their eyes locked with an intensity that toed the line between immaterial and tangible. How could eyes be so grey.... Her irises seemed almost devoid of color as they gave off a cold light, sending a chill down Ola's spine.

"You know you can't kill me."

His aim, to remind her and reassure himself.

"That might be true, but my mission didn't state what condition I had to bring you in..., sir."

Before Ola could process what she said, the butt of her gun connected with his temple and all faded to black.

First came the pain, then the splotches of light and color as Ola slowly regained consciousness. The sense of touch took its time returning. Beneath his head he had the faint feeling of something soft. He willed himself to be still, hoping to enjoy the suspected pillow for a few moments longer. His eyes opened, his awareness now strong enough to see it was the headrest that provided comfort. She couldn't even be bothered to personally tend to me. He could feel her watching him, a seed of interest unconsciously germinating. Ola looked out the window.

"Hey fierce beast Where are we?"

A small vein popped in her head when she heard Ola refer to her as a beast.

"Just about to leave the border of Osun and step into Oyo state."

"So, fierce beast, got a name?"

"You haven't earned the right to know it."

Ola turned to size up this lady who had clocked him without a hint of hesitation. He turned back to his window.

"Why aren't we moving? Hey driver why aren't we moving?"

"An accident in front, roads blocked. The lead vehicle currently sorting it out sir."

"Driver what's your name? Can't be calling you driver for the rest of our trip."

"It's Chukwu sir."

"Good name. Once had a turtle name Chukwu, she truly was a god among turtles. So where does this fierce beast hide her gun?"

"I'm not at liberty to say sir."

Chukwu began to sweat, the air conditioning having little effect. He did not dare turn around, his mind feeling the loaded gun pointed at him.

"Don't be shy Chukwu. I promise if you tell me, when we get to Lagos I'll have a rich reward prepared for you."

Chukwu licked his lips thinking of a reward from this man who had warranted enough worth to have this much manpower put in play to hunt him down. Then he remembered the lady who he would be offending and a tremble went along his bulging muscles.

"I quite like my current situation sir. Thank you for the offer."

"Forget it Chukwu, i'll still get you the reward regardless."

With a sigh Ola stroked his beard, his eyes noting the visibly relaxing body and excited grin of Chukwu. His gaze returned to the window of the car. With the knuckle of his middle finger, he wrapped against the glass. He heard a shallow sound.

"Are these windows ballistic proof?"

"No. But the rest of the car is. Why do you ask?"

Ola ignored her question and continued to look outside. There were hawkers moving from car to car struggling to gain the favorable attention of the occupants they couldn't see through tinted windows. In their hands were goods ranging from bottled water to locally made wura. Beyond the edge of the road not much could be seen due to a thick covering of forest trees. All this did not hold much interest for Ola. Instead his focus was on a little boy with a rag and bottle of water. He'd jump onto the hood of each car and attempt to clean the windshield. The drivers would activate the car windshield wipers and he would scurry away. It was kind of cute, garnering a few laughs here and there. Without fail he would proceed to the next car and repeat, making his way down the convoy line; getting ever closer to the car Ola currently sat in.

With some effort and a soft thud, the little boy clambered onto the bonnet of the range rover Ola, fierce beast and Chukwu occupied. The little boy saw the lady in the burgundy jacket and became excited, climbing off the car and scurrying off before Chukwu could even activate the wipers to chase him away.

"I believe this is an ambush. Give me a gun."

"What?"

Fierce beast watched Ola much like one would watch a spoiled child who did not realize his parents were no longer here to protect him from the cruelty of the world.

"Whatever scheme you cook up in a bid to get me to coddle you won't work."

This was not her first assignment. She was not clueless to the allure she had on men. It had served her well in certain situations but had also been a constant headache in many others. She knew his type, had dealings with his type and knew well how to handle his type. But the longer she looked at him the more she felt she might be misjudging this man who sat a seat away from her. Some instinct at the back of her mind wanted her to trust his words. If you asked her to explain it, she would be unable to. At the moment she thought maybe she shouldn't dismiss his words so quickly but then she saw a sudden look of lust on his face. It disappeared as soon as it came though not quick enough to evade her perceptive eyes. She began to reach for a set of handcuffs to stem the amount of mischief he could get into. Her fingers would never make it.

Chukwu did not register a thing. A shower of red blossomed from the side of his head. A crimson rose in full bloom with traces of pink and fragments of white. What was left of his brain had a new guest in the shape of a 50 millimeter bullet. His body slumped landing on the horn of the car, the incessant sound travelling along with the hail of bullets and shattered glass.

Fierce beast had no time to grieve for Chukwu. Her training took over, body springing for Ola, tackling him to the ground as bullets pierced the air above them in a horizontal rain.

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rayvelez:
Lemme comman sit down.

Lol. Welcome, let me know if you need anything.

Life without death is meaningless

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 04

Taking up position at the front of the church Ola could feel eyes boring through the back of his neck. He was dressed in loose fitting shirt and shorts once again. On his feet were rubber slippers, not much different from what he wore to the hills outside the village earlier today. There had been a pressed pair of trousers and appropriate well fitting shirt on his bed along with recently polished black shoes; And like every Sunday before he had ignored them.

Already accustomed to their aberrant pastor, the villagers did not bat an eye as they exchanged pleasantries before walking into the church. With each hand Ola shook, he called their name. It was an easy task for him to recall the names of all the villagers. Much easier than faking his way after being mistaken for the new replacement pastor. It did not take long for the truth to come out but the village were so impressed with his first few sermons they kept him on. His ability to absorb information had been a great help. It had been years since he’d been between the four walls of a church. Luckily his foundation of church stories built up in his childhood was sound. Ola shouted a word of encouragement to the stragglers in the distance before making his way into the church, the doors closing behind him.

Hand on the pulpit, Ola looked over his congregation. Behind him sat sister Khadijat and a couple village elders. The path from the door led directly to where he stood. They must have designed it this way in case their pastor wanted to bolt. No extravagance graced the interior of the church, functionality valued over style much like its members. They were simple people, with simple wants and needs for the most part. Many were tillers of the earth, coaxing from it treasures others took for granted. He looked down at his notes. Today he was set to talk about destiny. Seated near the front he could see little Eduvie, her hands clasped together in her lap. She stuck her tongue out at him, an act he didn’t hesitate to return with even greater flair, to the confusion of the rest of the congregation. Hmm, are those car engines I hear?

With a bang the church doors flew open. Every head within turned in astonishment, the puzzling antics of their pastor momentarily forgotten. Some thought it was the wind, a thought that was quickly refuted when men in black suits began to pour into the church. With precision they made a protected corridor down the center aisle. Confusion spread among the villagers, soon to be replaced with panic at the sight of these large serious faced men. Each suited man had a slight bulge in their upper torso. None of the people within the church noticed this bulge except for the man at the pulpit. Shoulder holsters, likely sporting nine millimeter caliber. Must be for me

“Sister Khadijat, I have to leave now.”

“Leave?”

“One can only run for so long. Maybe we will meet again. If not in this life, then the next.”

His words left her with more questions. With that he began to walk through the human made corridor towards the door.

“I’d like to see you take a step away from me!”

“Pastor!”

Two voices sounded out in unison, one an off key voice piercing through the silence. A little girl was stopped by one of the suited men. She struggled to get by, an attempt that was nothing but futile.

“Let her through!”

Within a heartbeat the commanding voice was obeyed. Another layer of shock settled on the villagers when they heard their goofy pastor displaying an aura of authority. As it came it quickly disappeared causing them to doubt themselves.

The little girl ran into Ola’s embrace.

“Don’t go.”

He patted her head.

“Goodbyes are not forever.”

“Take me with you.”

“I’m sorry little one, I can’t do that. When you are grown you can come look for me. Now remember to be strong.”

Forgive me little one, for now I won’t be able to keep the promise of the sweets. Without looking back he made his way out the church, leaving it all behind. Sister Khadijat watched his receding back, a sense of darkness growing. It was the first time he had gone against her words. At that instant she knew, he was no longer pastor.

Under the greying sky was a convoy of black vehicles. In front of him another suited man held open the door of a fully tinted Range Rover. Looking into the dim interior he saw the outline of a person at the far end. Ola’s hand reached for his chin. For a little over a year his facial hair had grown unchecked, wild and free; matching his nonchalant inclination in this peaceful town. His face became expressionless as he took all that he was in the past year and cast it aside. Only then did he step in, the door closing behind him.

“You weren’t easy to find Mister Duhu.”

“Don’t call me Duhu. If you can’t say Ola, then call me sir.”

“Yes sir. We should be arriving at our destination within six to eight hours.”

“And what made you exert so much effort to find me?”

“Mister Duhu, I mean sir, brace yourself, your father is dead.”

Ola’s eyes glazed over just before he burst out in hysterical laughter

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For an early look at chapter 4 you can click here

https://1001lives./2018/04/17/hidden-darkness-ch-04/

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In our pursuit of safety we offer our freedom

TANGENT - Ola's thoughts will be displayed in italics

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 03

How could such a pretty face be so fierce. Turning, Ola flashed a charming smile. In his college days many a lady had swooned at the sight of his pearly whites. Maybe it was the flashy convertible I rented to pick them up in. Sister Khadijat was neither amused nor did she look to be swooning.

"Immature, puerile, childish, irresponsible, pain in my..."

Each word was punctuated with a heavy step bringing her closer to the pastor she berated. Her hand reached out grabbing and twisting his ear. Not an easy feat with Ola being easily a head taller than her. The hills which surrounded the town heard Ola's cry as he bore the pain. Villagers nearby came out to watch the show, open with their laughter. This was nothing but a regular Sunday occurrence for them. It was no secret their pastor only performed his duties under the watchful eye of sister Khadijat, taking any chance to run for the hills.

"Sister Khadijat this is not the way you caress a man. You've been too long without..."

The pain increased, his ear now twisted to an impossible angle, cutting him off mid sentence. By the ear she dragged him through the church gate. Located at the highest elevation within the town, the church was one of the few buildings in the village constructed with block and cement. Simple in design, it could easily contain upwards of two hundred people. More than enough for the quaint little village.

Two other buildings stood proudly within the church grounds. Both having been built by the joint effort of the villagers ancestors, it was seen as a sense of pride for their pastor to make it his abode. A little over a year ago when Ola had just arrived, he had laughed when sister Khadijat had showed him where he would be living. He could remember vividly his first night in that primitive structure. What would sister say if she knew I only stayed to solve the mystery of her body type. Even after a year, not once had he seen her in anything but loose fitting garb.

Between the church and the residential buildings was the village cemetery. It was the one place on the church grounds he had never ventured too. From a distance he would watch her tend to the graves. Planting flowers, clearing out weeds and saying prayers for the forgotten. Sister Khadijat's care puzzled him. She too, like him, was not a native, arriving a few months before he did. He knew very little of her past. She had asked him once to come help tend the graves. His reaction left such an impression on her she had never asked again. So far there had been no deaths in the village requiring a funeral. He hoped his luck would hold.

A single road led from the gate to the church doors. A gentle incline lined with colorful flowers swaying in the gentle ever present wind. Sister Khadijat had still not given freedom to his ear. Ola bore the pain as he patiently waited for the moment she let her guard down. Seeing no opening he decided to gain from his predicament. Pretending to fall, he reached out to embrace her. With surprising agility she side stepped his reach, her foot lashing out and connecting with his back, helping him with his fall. He soon had the taste of dirt in his mouth.

"Must you?"

"You can't blame me for trying sister."

"But every Sunday? Aren't you tired of eating dirt? Don't you want change?"

"Change isn't always good, plus how else will I get to feel sisters shapely leg."

Her foot applied pressure on his fallen back, exerting no effort to go around him on her way to her hut, his head receiving special attention.

'You better be at the door clean and dressed to receive your congregation."

"Yes mistres... I mean sister."

Face buried in the dirt, he smiled. Soon i'll make you bloom in my hands. Picking himself up, Ola looked up at the clouds overhead. That one looks like a butterfly. An ominous feeling began to spread in his gut. With a sigh he suppressed it, making his way to his mud hut to freshen up.

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I lie because I love you

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 02

Eduvie shouted with delight, the wind whipping through her koroba styled hair. Trees flew by as they made their way down hill. In the distance the steeple of the church could be seen towering above the rest of the village. An easy feat with most other buildings capping off at a single story. In the bush around them, wildlife scattered as they made their way through with the stealth of a bulldozer in a china shop. Ola's feet propelled him forward at a steady pace, the peals of the bells getting louder the closer he got to the village. He ran without pause, sweeping past a signboard reading 'Welcome to Iree' as he made his way onto the main road of the village.

It was the only tarred road in Iree. The pride of all who resided in the sleepy hamlet. Built during the last state election, it was never finished, only running through a little over half the village before returning to red clay. All construction had stopped not long after the votes had been collected. They had been promised tarred roads as far as the eye could see. The residents didn't seem to mind much and the Oba's new Jeep did not have problems traversing the dirt.

Ola's rubber slippers slapped against the asphalt, his ill fitting shorts and shirt flapping in the wind. His nose lifted into the air as he caught whiff of a pleasant smell. The first house soon came into view. Outside a woman sat on a stool with a ikoko irin sitting on a wooden fire in front of her. She sported a hair style similar to the one on the head of the girl Ola currently carried. A brightly colored wrapper worked its way around her, tied in such a way to cover from chest to knees.

"Iya alakara!"

Eduvie shouted proudly, a mischievous smile on her small face. The woman looked up from the fire she was currently stoking with fresh wood.

"Who are you calling Iya alakara! You this naughty child."

She stood up, working her way towards the pair.

"Ahh, pastor run away, run away!" her little balled fist hitting his chest communicating her sense urgency.

"I'm sorry Eduvie, if I was to run from your mom I would never taste the best akara in the village again."

"Pastor, deliver her to me and help yourself."

Eduvie's little arms wrapped around Ola's neck and held on as best she could, her eyes mustering all the cuteness of a wounded baby deer.

"I don't want the five sweet anymore just take me with you."

"Sweet. Omode yi sha, don't worry the five lashes I will be giving you will also be sweet."

With that she grabbed Eduvie at the waist and pulled. Ola's heart softened when he looked into the little girls eyes. In it he saw the stare of one who saw her only hope.

"Mommy Eduvie, why don't we spare the rod this time around."

"Pastor, you of all people are saying spare the rod."

Ola smiled at the irony of it. He was about to begin a trite about treating the literal with care but changed his mind. Looking at the pleading eyes of the little one he sighed.

"Alright what about two lashes, one on each hand."

"You are lucky Pastor is benevolent."

"I don't want to be beaten!"

With a reassuring look he pat Eduvie on the back, his shirt already catching a few silent tears. So her mother could not hear he whispered "Be strong at heart. I promise you'll get those five butter mint". With that he pulled her off his neck and set her in her mothers clutches. Walking to a plastic container beside the hot oil, he quickly fished out 4 pieces of akara into a torn up newspaper and raced back onto the street. He did not dare take one last look at mother and child, afraid he would succumb to her cuteness and play out the white knight. A scenario that would not end well for them both. Much as he had signed Eduvie to her fate, he could not bear to watch her receive her sentence.

The toll of the bells had ended, a bad sign for Ola. He could now see the church gate less than a mile away. It had taken him nearly fifteen minutes to jog to this point. It was not that the village was large, rather the many villagers in front of their homes could not resist a quick chat. There were no strangers in a village this size and secrets did not stay secret for long, local news spreading impressively quick for an area without internet. As best he could, he had shouted greetings back while he zipped past but there were some he could not but stop to properly greet.

Though sometimes a bit of an inconvenience he knew deep down it was something he enjoyed and would not change for anything. Their transparent welcoming natures was refreshing to Ola. He grinned as he thought back to little Eduvie. He hoped her mom had gone easy on her. He could see the gate leading to the church now. In front of it was a woman dressed in black from head to toe. Besides her face, neck and hands not an inch of skin could be seen. Hanging from her neck was a pinky sized gold cross suspended on a rope made of wool. The cross rested against an exquisitely shaped chest no amount of loose fitting clothes could fully hide. It was not a detail Ola could enjoy with the storm brewing on the face of the lady. She noticed him, her eyes locking onto his like a seasoned predator finding her prey, daring him to look away.

"Oh, sister Khadijat, it's you. Well... you see... In the forest... I think I forgot... forgot my bible, yes my bible, I forgot my very important bible."

With a look of feigned sincerity Ola turned around, his body tensed and coiled to spring in the opposite direction of the fiend he had just laid eyes on.

"I'd like to see you take a step away from me."

It was said in a soft pleasant tone that did not match the fury in her eyes. Still, her voice rooted Ola firmly to the spot. He now envied Eduvie, wishing he was instead with her receiving lashings.

twitter - @just2days

Thanks for reading

Hislordship12:
nice one

Thanks. Still a little early to tell. Wish me luck

Oluwakemi65:
I'm starting to rethink the name (short). Is it a novel or a novelette? . Nice work sir.

Lolz, yeah, dropped a comment a while ago about this. I'll forcefully wrap this up in ten ish chapters. Bisi and Zainab finally meeting is a good step.

Thanks for your input

For early access to Chapter 2 you can click here

https://1001lives./2018/04/13/hidden-darkness-ch-02/

Thanks for reading

Where do we go from here

CHAPTER ONE

A thin piece of wood the length of a hand danced in the mouth of a man lying beneath a mango tree at the top of a small hill. Through the branches, leaves and ripe fruit he could see glimpses of grey clouds that filled the dull sky. Peace floated around him, the whisper of the wind the only sound to accompany his repose.

He watched as a leaf shook free of the branch that held it captive. With its new found freedom the leaf tangoed with the wind, enticing the free spirited element to help defy gravity. Their union could not last forever, the leaf finally finding its new home on the smooth face of the man beneath the mango tree, kept in place by the stick he chewed. This uninvited guest was not enough to cause the man to move a muscle. Quietly he accepted what the universe saw fit to send his way.

"Pastor!"

From the distance came the off key voice of a girl hitting puberty. Foreign to the wild, it shattered the tranquility of the world. An event that led to the first movement by the man. Like a cornered beast his eyes widened, his ears straining to tell how far away the voice was. After waiting for more than a minute the intruder of his solitude had not followed up with any other shouts. He pondered what could have happened. It was not like her to give up so easily. Then it hit him.

"Sneaky girl."

The man said with a smile as he got to his feet and prepared to sprint down the hill in the opposite direction of where he judged the voice came from. Sadly it would not go his way.

"I see you pastor! If you run I tell Sister Khadijat."

The man paused, weighing his options. His shoulders drooped as he waited for the little girl to make her way up the hill.

"Would you really tell Sister Khadijat on your pastor?"

"Yes!"

The man looked at the little girl who was a little too happy to report her pastor. His hand reached out to pat her head, chewing stick still between his teeth.

"Good girl. Now what if I offered you candy?"

Her eyes brightened when she heard candy, her small tongue licking her lips as if she could taste them already.

"How many?"

"As many as you want."

"Ok I want 5 butter mint."

"You have a deal little one."

The man began to walk away from the little girl in the opposite direction of whence she came.

"Wait! Pastor Ola! You have to give me the sweet first."

Ola smiled, she'd gotten a lot smarter.

"Eduvie, I'm twice your age and you don't trust me?"

"Pastor you are 28? That is very old. No wonder you have strands of white hair"

She giggled, twenty eight being an age she saw as a long way away.

"Naughty girl, calling your pastor old. Those are wisdom hair. You are 13 or don't you know how to double anymore."

"Pastor is 26, 26, 26, 26..."

She ran round him shouting with glee, Ola merely watched but was still infected by her childish merriment. In the distance he heard bells. Within his pocket his phone lit up. He ignored it like he usually did. With one hand he grabbed Eduvie, effortlessly lifted her onto his shoulders and raced down the hill towards the village in the distance.

twitter - @just2days

Thanks for reading

I have no where to belong, no where to run, barely hanging on. Love is a double edged sword

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 39

In a single moment, two women felt an inexplicable connection to each other. It was not voiced, neither was it physical. Nothing but the power of a woman's intuition. The moment was not long, most moments aren't. What transpired between the two could not be constrained by the laws that govern us mortals, neither could it be explained by the normality we experience each day. Of all that occurred in that moment, one clear emotion pushed all others aside and rode to the surface of both women; hate.

Zainab's eyes bore into the woman beside her, the smile still on her face in complete odds with the chemicals stimulating the right side of her brain. Much like her, the woman wore large shades and a hat covering much of her features. It could not hide her full lips and caramel skin, a direct contrast to Zainab's thin lips and ebony complexion. Pretty, Zainab thought, giving credit where it was due. Still she was not intimidated, confident she would be crowned Queen if they both participated in Miss Nigeria. All this occurred in less than a few seconds, the card still floating in the air. The woman barely broke her stride as she made her way to the door with little interest in an apology. 

Noting the woman had no intent on spending a second more Zainab reached out to grab her, hoping to make sense of the feelings she felt towards this woman. Her fingers grasped nothing but air, the woman disappearing through the blackened doors. Thoughts of chasing after her were considered and summarily discarded. Taking the time to collect herself, Zainab turned to the robust woman behind the transparent desk, a welcoming smile still on her face. 

"Who was that woman?"

Zainab wasted no time pumping her for information, ignoring the pamphlet that remained in the smiling woman's outstretched hand.

"I'm sorry mam but we cannot divulge our clients information."

"Oh really...?"

Zainab smirked, reaching for the pamphlet in the woman's hand. With a practiced hand, ten notes of thousand naira bills disappeared into the pamphlet and returned into the hands of the smiling woman. Her smile did not change.

"Here at Ala Alusi, we value our clients to the utmost, our goal to provide them with the services and care they expect."

"How laudable of you."

"Thank you mam, it is what our business is built on, Trust."

Forty more notes of the same value soon joined the initial ten in the pamphlet. The eyes of the robust woman lit up at the now bulky package, but her hands still did not reach out to accept it. Seeing the glint in the woman's eyes, Zainab reached into her purse for a pen, scribbling a few words onto the pamphlet before handing it back to the lady behind the desk. When she read the note, there was a sharp intake of breath as she began to punch away at a computer beside her. Ten minutes later the robust woman's phone beeped, a text message from her bank. She could barely contain her excitement as she handed a folder to Zainab after reading the message. The envelope disappeared into her purse, her interest in the robust woman waning. Her initial intent coming here forgotten, she made her way to the blackened door the card forgotten on the floor.

Within the safe cocoon of her white Mercedes Zainab held the brown folder in her hand. Silently the air conditioning regulated her world, or at least the temperature of it. A little part of her dreaded what she may find. Ignorance is bliss Zainab thought, her mind wondering if it was worth it to allow her suspicions gain ground. Dropping the folder on the passenger seat, her palms reached up and slapped her cheeks. Heat and pain quickly spread, clearing her mind of its complicated mess. In that moment of serene thought she made a decision.

Grabbing the folder she opened it. In front of her was the picture of a woman she had, without a doubt, seen before today. To the side, among other information, a name held her. A name Zainab would come to hate with a passion so thick, her fists would clench till she drew blood. Her finger traced each letter, her lips moving as she committed it to memory. Over and over she mouthed the name, her mind not registering when she began saying it aloud. At first softly, but which each recital, her voice rose in volume dripping with the penchant for murder. It resounded out, filling the confines of the car, her sanity stretched to breaking. Colliding, echoing, till it rung from her throat in a death knell that contained all of her.

"BISI!"

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TANGENT - Still on the fence if it's worth breathing life into this story. Will see how things progress

PROLOGUE

Crowds raised thunder to accompany the overcast skies. The weather forecasters had reported it would be sunny without a cloud in sight. That they were wrong fifty percent of the time should give an inkling to their reliability. It did not dampen the spirits of the multitudes that gathered in Lagos National Stadium, their voices raised in defiance of the heavens above. Within their midst was the eye of the storm. A raised wooden platform covered in a plush carpet of red that did not take much imagination to liken to blood flowing and dripping off the edges. On this platform a pure white podium stood firm on the sea of blood beneath it.

Eight out of nine rigid chairs on the platform were empty, their occupants facing the one filled seat. Each possessed expressions of reverence which hid other emotions they did not wish to reveal. In the filled middle chair sat a man younger than most who shared the platform with him. On his head, wisps of white stood in stark contrast to the deep black of his hair. He stood up, his frame taller than those around him. Applause sounded from the eight as the young man made his way across the red sea.

His exquisitely cut black suit and dark tie stood out against the bleached podium he rested a hand on. The excitement of the crowd rose as they were whipped into a frenzy. Once they saw the striking young man take the podium a chant started from a small corner of the stadium.

"Duhu! Duhu! Duhu Duhu! Duhu!"

Like wildfire it spread. Over fifty thousand people chanting a single name at the top of their lungs. Feet struck the earth in unison, the ground shaking for miles.

Duhu stood at the podium, soaking in the adulation of the multitude that surrounded him. Three large screens stood above, magnifying his image for all to bask in. His hands rose to the sky, the sea quieting at his command. Fifty thousand people held their breath waiting patiently for his words. A gust of wind blew, making its way from the outskirts of the stadium. It swept past the throng who patiently waited to hear him. They were the poor, the sick, unwashed, hopeless, forgotten. Each felt the wind pass only to slip through their fingers, reaching Duhu who stood at the podium with his hands raised to the sky in a fist; grasping.

"I am tired! Tired of seeing our government shirk their responsibility while they fill their pockets with the wealth of the people!"

His hand struck the podium, the impact caught by the microphone and transmitted through the stadium.

"Is this the Democracy we were promised!? Is the rule of the majority!? We have endured enough, suffered enough, watched in silence as our leaders grow fat while we grow thin."

Eyes glinting with a roaring fire, Duhu looked out at the people that stretched as far as he could see.

"Is this to be our destiny? To fade quietly into the night in the shadow of tyranny! I say No! I have nothing to offer but my blood, my sweat, my toil, my tears!"

With a pause he drew breath, his hand striking his chest, each word dripping with emotion.

"We have us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. A mountain that needs to be climbed. It will take all of us, each of your hands pressed against my back as we blaze our way to the top!"

Every man, woman and child looked to Duhu, the intensity in his eyes seeming to touch personally each and every one as an individual.

"My conscience tells me clearly and certainly I cannot allow my brothers and sisters to remain forgotten by a government so bewitched by its greed it has sold the people who elected them to serve!

A flame was lit in their hearts, a fanatic fervor growing within their minds and souls. Duhu grabbed the podium, veins bulging from the force.

"Much like Lincoln, I shall not rest till this nation returns to a system where the government is of the people, by the people and for the people! And to achieve this goal, I, Duhu, shall be running for the next presid..."

He saw the blood before he felt the pain. It surged out of the chest of Duhu, a fountain splattering the white podium with a red deeper than the carpet he stood on. Fifty thousand people watched a hole appear in his chest as the hand holding the podium lost strength and Duhu fell back on all three screens projecting his image. A woman raced to his side, tears whipped by the wind. Men in dark suits swarmed the platform forming a protective circle as panic finally spread among the people, the exits unable to safely accommodate the flood of bodies.

All this was lost on Duhu. He lay on his back gasping for breath, each harder than the last as blood soaked into the carpet beneath him. His eyes were glued to the overcast heavens above. He couldn't help but think back to when he gazed at a similar overcast sky in a little village hundreds of miles from here. Before all this started, when his life was simpler and honorable. Maybe I should have never left he thought as his eyes closed.

CHAPTER ONE

A thin piece of wood the length of a hand danced in the mouth of a man lying beneath a mango tree at the top of a small hill. Through the branches, leaves and ripe fruit he could see glimpses of grey clouds that filled the dull sky. Peace floated around him, the whisper of the wind the only sound to accompany his repose.

He watched as a leaf shook free of the branch that held it captive. With its new found freedom the leaf tangoed with the wind, enticing the free spirited element to help defy gravity. Their union could not last forever, the leaf finally finding its new home on the smooth face of the man beneath the mango tree. This uninvited guest was not enough to cause the man to move a muscle. Quietly he accepted what the universe saw fit to send his way.

"Pastor!"

From the distance came the off key voice of a girl hitting puberty. It shattered the tranquility of...