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Rick9:
Larrysun!
Larrysun!!
Larrysun!!!

Chai I nor fit shout for this update, honestly you are a born writer chai.

See how everything is revolving. Oh Wow just wow.

So Murphy Khalid and Yinka are both the leaders of the black followers in honour of Peter And Maria. Chai.

Now this is what I think, when Murphy broke out of jail I believe he also heard about Maria breaking out of jail also and He had discreetly looked after her without her being aware no wonder he knows about Peter Black.

Mehn this story is just awesome. Alot is going on.
I think I need to go back and Read Black Maria (Maria's Version) I have been ignoring it since.

Larrysun maximum respect.

Thanks.

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Vulcanheph:
Isn't that Don jazzy's name.?

It is.

Flash 35: Almajiri

Specially dedicated to Ifan Ifeanyi Michael

The birth of a healthy newborn usually ushers in joy and merriment, but that was not the case for little Musa. When the poor boy was conceived, his parents had tried everything they could to ensure that he suffered at least one birth defect when he was born. His mother had swallowed various concoctions unfit for a pregnant woman, all in the bid to make sure that the baby did not come out healthy. The more aweful, hideous, horrid or revolting the child became, the better. What mattered to the parents was that the child survived. Seven other births had come before Musa but they had all come as stillborns - the concoctions had killed them even before they took their first breaths.

But Musa had proved a lot stronger than his deceased siblings. He did not only survive the concoctions but had also come out healthy and strong. His parents had not liked this - especially his father, who had been gravely disappointed. The child should have at least come as a cripple, the man had thought to himself.

The father, Mallam Yakub, had decided to do it the physical way since the medicines and concoctions did not produce the results he expected. And so, while the child was barely three months old, Mallam Yakub had used his thumb to press the baby's left eye through the socket, crushing the eyeball in the process. Again, the child had defied the odds - he survived the attack, but grew up blind in one eye. His father had even attempted to break the child's legs, too, but had been stopped by the Imam of the mosque he attended.

"The blindness is enough," Imam Yinusa had said, "You don't have to cripple him, at least not now. Let's see what profit he brings first."

That was how poor Musa escaped getting his legs crushed - perhaps he wouldn't have survived that. Musa was released to the streets when he became three years old. That was the plan. His parents and some of the community elders had prepared him to become a beggar.

And with his tender age and an empty eye socket, Musa made a substantial amount of money for his parents. However, the money did not wholly belong to the parents; they were only entitled to thirty percent of whatever the boy earned. The seventy percent went to Umrah Shar - the man who controlled the activities of every beggar in the entire coast. Musa's parents had registered under the aegis of Umrah Shar and they had been granted the permission to beg for alms at a spot allocated to them. There were thousands of disabled adults and children that worked for Shar. And so with the sweat and agony of the disabled, Umrah Shar had built an empire.

Musa was making so much money but only ate once every day. He wouldn't dare spend out of the money or he would be taken away and killed. There were other disabled people that would gladly take his spot. Musa got his own spot because the previous occupier was killed - the victim was only seven years old. And to gain another spot, his parents would have to raise another disabled child, which would take at least another three years. Umrah Shar knew that, Musa's parents knew that, and Musa himself knew that, too. He was only three years old but he understood how the game was played.

By the time Musa became five years old, Umrah Shar decided that the boy was ready for the city. He would be following the next batch of Almajiris the old truck would transport to the city. But before then, Musa would have to lose his second eye. His parents were glad; this meant that their percentage would increase from thirty to forty. This meant that Musa's meal would increase from one to two per day.

This time around, however, the poor boy had his eye gouged out with a hot pincer. It took him almost two months to recover. And when he did, he was ready for the city. Musa did not ask for this kind of life, but it was the one he was offered. The decisions of his parents, the community Imam, and Umrah Shar had put poor Musa into everlasting darkness.

Now in the city, Musa would have to work twice as hard. In the sun, in the rain, in the harmattan, Musa must beg, for he knew that he would be killed and replaced if he was not productive. He had to rely on the kindness of passers-by to continue staying alive. There were hundreds - and possibly thousands - of disabled people like him scattered across the city. Even though many of the unproductive beggars got killed, hundreds more came into the city every month - all working hard to enrich Umrah Shar.

Now Musa is an old man. He is eighty-eight years old but still remains at the junction begging for alms. His parents are long dead. Umrah Shar is long dead, but Musa is still working hard to enrich Umrah Shari's children and grandchildren. Many of Umrah Shari's descendants have political ambitions.

Even though Musa has chosen to remain unmarried and bear no child, there are both the old and young versions of Musa in every street corner of the city chanting "Bambi Allah".

LSD
December, 2021
larrysundynasty@gmail.com
+2349061754872

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The Journey to a Thousand Flash

Flash 34: At the Other Side
Specially dedicated to Michael Collins Ajereh

Nkem's ambition was to become a serial killer. It was a strange ambition, one that was unsuitable for public confession; but Nkem appreciated the uniqueness of this ambition - and he planned to do something about it. He had always been fascinated by the idea of death. Of course, the possibility of other people dying thrilled him, as opposed to the possible significant end of his own life.

His first victim was a woman. Nkem was a good-looking and attractive young man, and he had successfully used his charms to lure the poor woman to a dark and lonely corner where he stabbed her multiple times. Then he had dragged her corpse to the unmarked grave he had prepared for her beforehand - this was the start of a promising career as a serial killer. He cleaned up the blood-soaked knife on his victim's lifeless body before returning it to the pocket of the dark-blue denim he donned.

Then just as he was about to push the corpse into the ditch, he looked across the short fence to the other side and saw something that further threatened his already faulty sanity. At the other side of the fence was exactly the same environment as where he stood. There was the same secluded area, the same ditch, and the same weed grew on the ground. It was like the world split into two similar parts, the fence only serving as a dividing portal.

This might not have bothered Nkem so much if the supernatural manifestation had ended there, but something more sinister sufficed - which pleasantly made the self-proclaimed serialist go batshit crazy, and, of course, ushered in his eventual apprehension, and ultimate doom.

At the other side was a familiar person trying to bury a corpse, just like Nkem was. And there was a significant level of similarities between what was going on at that other side and what Nkem was trying to do. Like Nkem, the other figure was trying to push a victim into a ditch, too. Nkem watched as the killer cleaned his knife on his victim's body - just like he had done. In addition, the killer on that side bore a close resemblance with the woman Nkem was trying to bury over here - but the only difference was that the killer was clearly a male; a male who carried the face of the woman Nkem was about to bury.

What finally stole the remaining little sanity left of Nkem was when he looked down at the victim the stranger was trying to bury and saw his own face - but the only difference was that the victim was clearly a female; a female who carried the face of Nkem, the serial killer. The killer looked across at Nkem and gave a dark smile.

Nkem was still screaming when people gathered around and discovered what he had done, but none of the crowd saw the fence, or what was happening at the other side.

LSD
December, 2021
larrysundynasty@gmail.com
+2349061754872

sheba222:
your phone number please.

It's on my signature.

Arclite:
Larry abeg help me out ,i missed two episodes

N100 only.

sheba222:
Larrysun the master, I hail oooo.
Please I have missed some updates how can I get them. I stopped at 35 ?

Message me on WhatsApp.

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Next update will be posted tomorrow.

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Kelblaq:
GoodEvening Sir! Please we are waiting for updates

Tonight.

Good evening, everyone.

My phone fell in water. Please bear with me until I repair it. I just logged in with someone else's phone.

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Ann2012:
Oga LarrySun, I just finished reading Nemesis now I’m stuck waiting patiently for Retribution…. You’re really gifted. This book got me stuck with my phone all day.

Waiting for Book 5: Retribution please

Thank you so much.

iamL:
King of boys.

Nice.

useed:
How do I do that, please drop your number and how I can reach you?

Check my signature.