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Chuck doesn't limp else Darous would have noticed it.

EPISODE 19 — Scars and Goodbyes.

For one week, I was in that hospital — one long, painful week.
The first night I got there, I honestly thought that was my end. My body wasn’t paining me — it was holding a full-blown protest. My ribs were playing Tekken, my chest was doing WWE SmackDown, and my back? That one was running its own government project with no completion date in sight.

Every morning, the nurses would troop in like soldiers on duty.
“Sir, small prick,” one said, holding a syringe.

I frowned. “You people should at least agree that it’s not small again. Since yesterday, you’ve been pricking me like mosquito wey never chop since last year.”

The doctor behind her chuckled. A tall man with a bald head that reflected light like mirror.
“You’re healing well,” he said in his deep baritone. “No fractures, but you have muscle bruises, contusions, mild internal swelling, and dehydration.”

I blinked slowly. “Doctor, just say it like you are talking to a bricklayer — sheybi I go live?”

He smiled. “You’ll live.”

“Good,” I nodded. “Because the god of thunder don enter menopause, he no fit get another child wey go replace me o.”

He laughed and patted my shoulder. “You’ll be fine, son of thunder.”

Jude was there too, standing like a bouncer at the door. When the doctor left, he sighed.
“Guy, you strong o. I swear, when I saw you lying on the floor that night, I swear I thought you don go.”

I laughed small. “Go where? I never even born pikin. You think Shango will allow his prodigal son to die like that?”

He smiled and shook his head. “You no go ever change....you and this your thunder talk....”

The painkillers they gave me were strong enough to make a lion humble. But each time I coughed, it felt like my lungs were sending resignation letters.

By the fourth day, I could at least move around small. My face no longer looked like puff-puff, just a little bit swollen.
Jude came in that morning with a nylon bag and dropped it beside me.
“What’s that?” I asked.

He grinned. “By the way, that new phone you asked me to get for you — I got it.”

“Oh, you don buy am?” I asked, already stretching my hand like a kid waiting for candy.

“Yes na. abi the six hundred K wey you say make I comot with your ATM na for land?” He said, reaching into my wallet to pull out the SIM card I retrieved the previous day. “Let’s set it up.”

He slipped the SIM into the new phone, hit the power button, and the screen came alive like a new dawn.
He helped me set everything up — restored my contacts from cloud storage, synced my old details. After some hours, it almost felt like nothing had been lost; like I’d taken back a piece of my life Kenny had stolen.

Then he handed the phone to me. “Take.”

I smiled weakly. “Ah, Baba Jude — the telecom messiah himself.”

He chuckled. “Better thank me well before I carry it back.”

We both laughed, but the laughter didn’t last long. Soon, the talk drifted to Baba T — how much we missed him, and what would happen to his body.
Jude called someone he knew to ask if it was possible to get the body released for burial, but the response wasn't what we expected at all.
It's legally impossible for now.

The police were still investigating, and until they cleared it, the hospital couldn’t hand the body over — not even to his family.

I felt something sink deep inside me.
It hit me — Baba T’s burial might not happen anytime soon. It would take pure luck, because the police would never find the person who stabbed him — Cynthia.
And the painful part? It was me, his own friend, who helped her escape.

That thought sat heavy in my chest… and I knew it would haunt me for a very long time.

That same night, around 8:30 p.m., Chuka messaged me.

CHUKA: Good you’re online. What happened? I’ve been trying to reach you for three days now. Where are you?

I quickly typed back, explaining everything briefly — the attack and how I was now in the hospital.
Minutes later, his reply came in:

CHUKA: Send me the hospital’s account details. No questions asked.

That message alone said everything.
I called one of the nurses, got the hospital’s account number, and sent it to him.

A few moments later, another message popped up:

CHUKA: Stay put. Don’t worry about the bills. Everything is covered. Get well. We’ll talk later.

I read that line three times.
“Everything is covered?” I muttered. Then I looked around suspiciously.
“Abi he don sell my kidney in advance?”

I chuckled weakly, but then something started itching my brain. I picked up the phone again and typed:

Me: Boss, one small thing. That night… Cynthia. You people got her, abi?

His reply came fast — sharp and heavy like a slap.

CHUKA: Funny, isn’t it? For someone who remembers even the tiniest details — like what I wore the first day we met — you sure have a big problem remembering rules.

A few seconds later, another message followed:

CHUKA: No questions asked.

I frowned, my thumb hovering above the screen.

Me: But boss, I just wan—

Before I could finish typing, another message landed.

CHUKA: And let it be the last time you ask me about anyone related to the Circle. It’s none of your business. We let you know what we want you to know… and we will allow you to not know what we don’t want you to know.

I just stared at the screen, mouth half-open.
For a long moment, I didn’t move. Then I dropped the phone on my chest and sighed deeply.

No questions asked, eh?

But the way he said “anyone related to the Circle” hit differently in my head.
It could only mean one thing — they got Cynthia that night. That thought sent some relief into my worried mind.

And as for Kenny — no one had seen or heard from him since that night. Maybe he left town or something happened to him, either way, we need to move on from that.
But deep down, I knew one thing for sure — we all missed Baba T.


Morning of the fifth day, I was deep in sleep when my new phone rang. I opened one eye with a groan but when I saw the name, my heart skipped.
Tiffany.

I picked up weakly. “Hello?”

Her voice came through soft but shaky. “Darous… oh my God, Darous you got me worried...how are you? Are you okay?”

I smiled faintly. “Last I checked, yes. Still in one piece — just refurbished.” She let out a sigh from the other end. "But I'm in a hospital."

She gasped. “Hospital? What happened?”

I sighed. “Long story jare my queen of wahala. I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“No! You’ll tell me the address of that hospital right now!” She declared.

"And if I don't?"

She didn’t even pause. “Then I’ll start calling every hospital in Lagos till I find the one that has a fine boy named trouble magnet on their bed!”

I chuckled weakly. “Ah, abeg no disgrace me like that o.”

“Try me,” she fired back. “Don’t make me trend for the wrong reason — ‘Woman storms hospitals hunting for wounded boyfriend.’”

I laughed, wincing at the pain in my ribs. “Okay, okay, calm down Inspector Tiffany. I’ll send you the address before you start doing nationwide search and rescue.”

“Good,” she said, voice softening a little. “Because if I find out from another source, I’ll personally unplug your drip when I get there.”

I smiled into the phone. “You see why even devil is afraid of you?”

I gave her the hospital name and address.
Before I could even say, “don’t come,” she ended the call.

Two hours later, my ward turned to a movie set.

Tiffany walked in like she owned the building — followed by Toyosi, both of them looking like they were headed to a wedding, not a hospital. Tiffany wore a tight black dress, earrings shining like transformer sparks. Toyosi’s perfume hit the air before she even entered — sweet and expensive. My eyes settled on Tiffany's breast. Wow. Those sumptuously looking breast. My mind drifted back to the night at Mrs Adeoye. How I handled that breast and all the thrills that followed. I was already fantasising about how I will handle her when next the opportunity presents itself when Tiffany's next action broke into my thoughts.

Tiffany didn’t even greet me first. She marched straight to the nurse’s desk and said in that her rich girl accent that only appears during drama:
“Excuse me! Why is this man’s bed so close to the generator house? Are you trying to kill him with carbon dioxide?”

The nurse blinked like she was buffering. “Ma, please, you can’t—”

Tiffany cut her off. “No, you can’t! You’ll move him to another private room right now.”

The nurse frowned. “Sorry, ma, only the patient or family members can make such a request.”

Right then, the doctor entered — same bald-headed one. Tiffany turned to him sharply.
“Doctor, please, this environment is not safe for him. The fumes from that generator could kill him!”

The doctor adjusted his glasses calmly. “Madam, please relax. I understand your concern, but that generator house is quite far from his ward window. Besides, hospital policy only allows relatives to request transfers.”

Tiffany hesitated, blinked once, then said smoothly, “Alright then… does the title of wife count as relative in your hospital policy? Because I’m his wife.”

I nearly choked. My eyes almost jumped out of their sockets.

Right at that exact moment, Jude walked in holding a bottle of Lucozade. The doctor turned to him immediately.
“Sir, can you confirm that, please?”

Without blinking, Jude said, “Of course, doctor. They even got married the same day Diogo Jota and his wife did. It’s a football thing.”

The doctor squinted. “Diogo Jota?”

Tiffany nodded seriously. “Yes. The Brazilian goalkeeper. We’re huge fans.”

I bit my tongue not to laugh.

Toyosi stood by the door, arms folded. Her eyes met Jude’s — and instantly, the air went cold. Jude looked away, pretending to scroll through his phone.

Tiffany wasn’t done.
“If you don’t move him to a safer ward,” she said, “I’ll call an ambulance and take him to another hospital right now.”

The doctor raised his hands. “Alright, alright. We’ll move him. Please, calm down.”

She turned to me, still breathing hard. “See what I mean? You can’t even rest in peace in this kind of environment!”

I smiled weakly. “Babe, I’m not dead yet. And I’m perfectly fine here.”

She gave me a look. “Fine? You’re just one moustache away from Osama bin Laden.”

I chuckled. “And yet here you are…beside a terrorist. What if American troops raid this place right now?”

She folded her arms. “Good. At least they’ll rescue me first. You?—” she pointed at me—“they’ll interrogate you till you get well enough to be shipped away.”

I smirked. “Then I’ll tell them you’re the mastermind. You fit the profile.”

She rolled her eyes. “Keep talking, Osama Junior.”

She sat beside me, holding my hand. For once, her voice went soft.
“You scared me, Darous. You really did.”

I smiled. “You think the son of thunder can die just like that? Thunder would strike my coffin first.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

The doctor returned with two nurses and they wheeled me into a smaller, private ward. Toyosi and Jude led the way, while Tiffany followed right behind—barking instructions like a military wife on a rescue mission.

When the nurses finally left us alone, she exhaled deeply. “Please, next time you want to almost die, send me a text first.”

I grinned. “You’ll be the first on the invitation list.”

Toyosi laughed softly from the corner. Even Jude smiled small.

"But tell me, what exactly happened to you?" Toyosi asked, folding her arms with that British concern that always sounds like judgement.

Tiffany’s eyes followed, resting on me with that same suspicious calm—like she was waiting to catch me lying.

"How did you end up like this, for real?" Toyosi pressed again, this time sounding like a detective from BBC Africa.

Truth is, I hadn’t planned what to say since they walked in. I turned to Jude for backup; he just gave me that small nod that clearly meant, “Guy, don’t say jack. Just freestyle.”

And since one of the perks of being the son of Thunder is knowing how to lie so well you’d convince even FBI, I cleared my throat and began.

“So… we were at our usual bar, yeah? Some gang mistook us for their rivals. We got talking and it turned to a heated argument. So one of them pulled a knife and stabbed Baba T. So Baba T is dead.”

Tiffany’s eyes widened. Toyosi gasped like she just heard cooking gas price had increased again.
“Wait, what? Baba T is dead?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We rushed him to the hospital, but he didn’t make it. Me, Jude, and Kenny… we couldn’t take it. We beat the guys so bad, their ancestors probably flinched in their graves.”

They both went silent. Then Tiffany sighed and said softly, “Wow. I actually liked him. He was...the calm one among you, but in a funny way.”

Toyosi nodded slowly. “Yeah, I remember him. He said he wanted to be a motivational speaker. I told him he needed motivation first....eeeyah... may his soul rest in peace."

“Okay, fine. But how did you end up like this?” Tiffany asked.

I sighed and rubbed my bandaged arm. “That same night, the gang came after me. They broke into my place and beat me up. Next thing I knew, I woke up here. Jude’s been the one taking care of me since then. As for Kenny… he’s like Baba T’s widow. He took the whole thing worse than anyone else.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie—just ninety percent true and ten percent remix.

They both looked at me with pity. Tiffany came closer, brushing my hair like I was her lost puppy.

“You’ll be fine,” she said softly. “I’m staying here with you till you get better. And I don't want to hear pim on that...”

Toyosi added, “We’ll even get you something to eat. And maybe a barber to come shave your hair right here. You’re beginning to look like Osama Bin Laden.”

“A barber? Inside the hospital?” I laughed. “You girls are crazy.”

Tiffany gave me a side-eye. “Have you heard about the Saudi sleeping prince?”

“No. Who is that?”

“A prince who’s been in a coma for over twenty years,” she said, scrolling through her phone. “Here—look.”

She shoved the phone in my face.

“Twenty years and he’s still cute,” I said. “Wow.”

“Exactly!” Tiffany said. “Because he let people care for him.”

“That’s because he’s in a coma,” I said. “He doesn’t exactly have a choice.”

Tiffany smirked. “Then maybe I should tell the doctor to put you in the same coma. That way, I’ll finally have my way with you.”

Toyosi gasped dramatically. “Tiff, yes, that's exactly what we'll do.”

They both burst into laughter and walked out, leaving me staring at the door, shaking my head.

“These women will kill me before the stitches heal.” I said to myself.

The room was quiet after Tiffany and Toyosi left.
I could still hear their laughter fading down the hallway — light and carefree.

Then I noticed Jude standing by the door.
He wasn’t smiling. His eyes looked heavy, like he’d been carrying something too hard to say.

He walked up to me slowly, hands deep in his pockets.
“Bro,” he said, voice low, “I need to go.”

I blinked. “Go where?”

“Out of the city,” he replied. “And I'm leaving tonight.”

I tried to sit up. “Why? What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about it for days now. Kenny is still out there. And you and I both know he won’t stop until he finds me. The guy’s broken, and broken people are dangerous.”
He paused, eyes darting toward the window. “I wanted to leave two days ago, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave you alone. But now that Tiffany and Toyosi are here, I know you’ll be fine. You’ve got people who will truly care for you.”

I forced a weak smile. “So you’re leaving because Toyosi is around, right?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, bro. Not that.”
He looked me straight in the eyes. “I’ve moved past Toyosi. What happened between us taught me something I’ll never forget in my life— never let what people think about you decide how you live your life.”

His voice cracked a little. “I spent too long trying to prove I wasn’t a fool, trying to look strong, trying to be who I’m not. And look where it got me — lost, scared, and almost broken. But now… I just want peace. I just want to start again.”

We both went silent for a moment. The room felt heavier and quieter.

Then he smiled faintly and said, “I just miss Baba T, man.”

I nodded slowly. “We all do.”
That single name brought the silence back — thick and cold.

He sighed. “When they finally release his body, I’ll find a way to come back. No matter where I am, I’ll show up for his burial. He deserves that much from me.”

I smiled weakly. “Yeah… he really does.”

Then I mentioned Cynthia, but Jude quickly waved it off.
“She’s a big girl,” he said, forcing a half-smile. “Wherever she is, she’ll be fine. I’m done worrying about what I can’t fix. So be safe my bro....”

I felt a weight settle on my chest the moment I saw his eyes. I’ve known him long enough to recognize that look — the one that says his mind is made up. And when it gets to that point, nothing can change it.

“So this is it?” I asked quietly, fighting back the tears.

He nodded. “For now. I’ll keep in touch. We’re brothers, remember? Blood doesn’t make family — loyalty does.”

I got up slowly and hugged him. We didn’t say anything for a while. We just stood there, two broken men trying to hold each other together.

When we finally let go, his eyes were red but shining.

“Take care of yourself, bro,” he said. “You’ve been through hell, but you’re still standing. Don’t forget that. You’re stronger than you think.”
He paused and looked straight into my eyes like he suddenly remembered something.
“And if you ever feel like jumping off a bridge again, you better call me first. Because if I ever hear you died, I swear I’ll find your corpse, tie it around my neck, and dive into the same ocean. That way, at least you’ll know you killed both of us.”

I swallowed hard and forced a smile. “And you… don’t let the world turn your heart cold. You hear me?”

He laughed softly, wiping his face. “Too late for that,” he said, half-joking, half-true.

Then he turned, grabbed his small bag from the corner, and headed for the door.
He looked back one last time and said, “We’ll meet again, Darous. Maybe when all this madness is over.”

The door closed quietly behind him.

And just like that, the room went still again.
I stared at the empty doorway for a long time — feeling grateful, scared, and alone all at once.

It’s crazy how people come into your life, change it, and then leave —
but still leave a part of themselves behind in you.




To be continued.

Drop your comments below. One more episode on this page before we continue oooooo

TheBlessedMAN:
EPISODE 19 — Scars and Goodbyes.

For one week, I was in that hospital — one long, painful week.
The first night I got there, I honestly thought that was my end. My body wasn’t paining me — it was holding a full-blown protest. My ribs were playing Tekken, my chest was doing WWE SmackDown, and my back? That one was running its own government project with no completion date in sight.

Every morning, the nurses would troop in like soldiers on duty.
“Sir, small prick,” one said, holding a syringe.

I frowned. “You people should at least agree that it’s not small again. Since yesterday, you’ve been pricking me like mosquito wey never chop since last year.”

The doctor behind her chuckled. A tall man with a bald head that reflected light like mirror.
“You’re healing well,” he said in his deep baritone. “No fractures, but you have muscle bruises, contusions, mild internal swelling, and dehydration.”

I blinked slowly. “Doctor, just say it like you are talking to a bricklayer — sheybi I go live?”

He smiled. “You’ll live.”

“Good,” I nodded. “Because the god of thunder don enter menopause, he no fit get another child wey go replace me o.”

He laughed and patted my shoulder. “You’ll be fine, son of thunder.”

Jude was there too, standing like a bouncer at the door. When the doctor left, he sighed.
“Guy, you strong o. I swear, when I saw you lying on the floor that night, I swear I thought you don go.”

I laughed small. “Go where? I never even born pikin. You think Shango will allow his prodigal son to die like that?”

He smiled and shook his head. “You no go ever change....you and this your thunder talk....”

The painkillers they gave me were strong enough to make a lion humble. But each time I coughed, it felt like my lungs were sending resignation letters.

By the fourth day, I could at least move around small. My face no longer looked like puff-puff, just a little bit swollen.
Jude came in that morning with a nylon bag and dropped it beside me.
“What’s that?” I asked.

He grinned. “By the way, that new phone you asked me to get for you — I got it.”

“Oh, you don buy am?” I asked, already stretching my hand like a kid waiting for candy.

“Yes na. abi the six hundred K wey you say make I comot with your ATM na for land?” He said, reaching into my wallet to pull out the SIM card I retrieved the previous day. “Let’s set it up.”

He slipped the SIM into the new phone, hit the power button, and the screen came alive like a new dawn.
He helped me set everything up — restored my contacts from cloud storage, synced my old details. After some hours, it almost felt like nothing had been lost; like I’d taken back a piece of my life Kenny had stolen.

Then he handed the phone to me. “Take.”

I smiled weakly. “Ah, Baba Jude — the telecom messiah himself.”

He chuckled. “Better thank me well before I carry it back.”

We both laughed, but the laughter didn’t last long. Soon, the talk drifted to Baba T — how much we missed him, and what would happen to his body.
Jude called someone he knew to ask if it was possible to get the body released for burial, but the response wasn't what we expected at all.
It's legally impossible for now.

The police were still investigating, and until they cleared it, the hospital couldn’t hand the body over — not even to his family.

I felt something sink deep inside me.
It hit me — Baba T’s burial might not happen anytime soon. It would take pure luck, because the police would never find the person who stabbed him — Cynthia.
And the painful part? It was me, his own friend, who helped her escape.

That thought sat heavy in my chest… and I knew it would haunt me for a very long time.

That same night, around 8:30 p.m., Chuka messaged me.

CHUKA: Good you’re online. What happened? I’ve been trying to reach you for three days now. Where are you?

I quickly typed back, explaining everything briefly — the attack and how I was now in the hospital.
Minutes later, his reply came in:

CHUKA: Send me the hospital’s account details. No questions asked.

That message alone said everything.
I called one of the nurses, got the hospital’s account number, and sent it to him.

A few moments later, another message popped up:

CHUKA: Stay put. Don’t worry about the bills. Everything is covered. Get well. We’ll talk later.

I read that line three times.
“Everything is covered?” I muttered. Then I looked around suspiciously.
“Abi he don sell my kidney in advance?”

I chuckled weakly, but then something started itching my brain. I picked up the phone again and typed:

Me: Boss, one small thing. That night… Cynthia. You people got her, abi?

His reply came fast — sharp and heavy like a slap.

CHUKA: Funny, isn’t it? For someone who remembers even the tiniest details — like what I wore the first day we met — you sure have a big problem remembering rules.

A few seconds later, another message followed:

CHUKA: No questions asked.

I frowned, my thumb hovering above the screen.

Me: But boss, I just wan—

Before I could finish typing, another message landed.

CHUKA: And let it be the last time you ask me about anyone related to the Circle. It’s none of your business. We let you know what we want you to know… and we will allow you to not know what we don’t want you to know.

I just stared at the screen, mouth half-open.
For a long moment, I didn’t move. Then I dropped the phone on my chest and sighed deeply.

No questions asked, eh?

But the way he said “anyone related to the Circle” hit differently in my head.
It could only mean one thing — they got Cynthia that night. That thought sent some relief into my worried mind.

And as for Kenny — no one had seen or heard from him since that night. Maybe he left town or something happened to him, either way, we need to move on from that.
But deep down, I knew one thing for sure — we all missed Baba T.


Morning of the fifth day, I was deep in sleep when my new phone rang. I opened one eye with a groan but when I saw the name, my heart skipped.
Tiffany.

I picked up weakly. “Hello?”

Her voice came through soft but shaky. “Darous… oh my God, Darous you got me worried...how are you? Are you okay?”

I smiled faintly. “Last I checked, yes. Still in one piece — just refurbished.” She let out a sigh from the other end. "But I'm in a hospital."

She gasped. “Hospital? What happened?”

I sighed. “Long story jare my queen of wahala. I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“No! You’ll tell me the address of that hospital right now!” She declared.

"And if I don't?"

She didn’t even pause. “Then I’ll start calling every hospital in Lagos till I find the one that has a fine boy named trouble magnet on their bed!”

I chuckled weakly. “Ah, abeg no disgrace me like that o.”

“Try me,” she fired back. “Don’t make me trend for the wrong reason — ‘Woman storms hospitals hunting for wounded boyfriend.’”

I laughed, wincing at the pain in my ribs. “Okay, okay, calm down Inspector Tiffany. I’ll send you the address before you start doing nationwide search and rescue.”

“Good,” she said, voice softening a little. “Because if I find out from another source, I’ll personally unplug your drip when I get there.”

I smiled into the phone. “You see why even devil is afraid of you?”

I gave her the hospital name and address.
Before I could even say, “don’t come,” she ended the call.

Two hours later, my ward turned to a movie set.

Tiffany walked in like she owned the building — followed by Toyosi, both of them looking like they were headed to a wedding, not a hospital. Tiffany wore a tight black dress, earrings shining like transformer sparks. Toyosi’s perfume hit the air before she even entered — sweet and expensive. My eyes settled on Tiffany's breast. Wow. Those sumptuously looking breast. My mind drifted back to the night at Mrs Adeoye. How I handled that breast and all the thrills that followed. I was already fantasising about how I will handle her when next the opportunity presents itself when Tiffany's next action broke into my thoughts.

Tiffany didn’t even greet me first. She marched straight to the nurse’s desk and said in that her rich girl accent that only appears during drama:
“Excuse me! Why is this man’s bed so close to the generator house? Are you trying to kill him with carbon dioxide?”

The nurse blinked like she was buffering. “Ma, please, you can’t—”

Tiffany cut her off. “No, you can’t! You’ll move him to another private room right now.”

The nurse frowned. “Sorry, ma, only the patient or family members can make such a request.”

Right then, the doctor entered — same bald-headed one. Tiffany turned to him sharply.
“Doctor, please, this environment is not safe for him. The fumes from that generator could kill him!”

The doctor adjusted his glasses calmly. “Madam, please relax. I understand your concern, but that generator house is quite far from his ward window. Besides, hospital policy only allows relatives to request transfers.”

Tiffany hesitated, blinked once, then said smoothly, “Alright then… does the title of wife count as relative in your hospital policy? Because I’m his wife.”

I nearly choked. My eyes almost jumped out of their sockets.

Right at that exact moment, Jude walked in holding a bottle of Lucozade. The doctor turned to him immediately.
“Sir, can you confirm that, please?”

Without blinking, Jude said, “Of course, doctor. They even got married the same day Diogo Jota and his wife did. It’s a football thing.”

The doctor squinted. “Diogo Jota?”

Tiffany nodded seriously. “Yes. The Brazilian goalkeeper. We’re huge fans.”

I bit my tongue not to laugh.

Toyosi stood by the door, arms folded. Her eyes met Jude’s — and instantly, the air went cold. Jude looked away, pretending to scroll through his phone.

Tiffany wasn’t done.
“If you don’t move him to a safer ward,” she said, “I’ll call an ambulance and take him to another hospital right now.”

The doctor raised his hands. “Alright, alright. We’ll move him. Please, calm down.”

She turned to me, still breathing hard. “See what I mean? You can’t even rest in peace in this kind of environment!”

I smiled weakly. “Babe, I’m not dead yet. And I’m perfectly fine here.”

She gave me a look. “Fine? You’re just one moustache away from Osama bin Laden.”

I chuckled. “And yet here you are…beside a terrorist. What if American troops raid this place right now?”

She folded her arms. “Good. At least they’ll rescue me first. You?—” she pointed at me—“they’ll interrogate you till you get well enough to be shipped away.”

I smirked. “Then I’ll tell them you’re the mastermind. You fit the profile.”

She rolled her eyes. “Keep talking, Osama Junior.”

She sat beside me, holding my hand. For once, her voice went soft.
“You scared me, Darous. You really did.”

I smiled. “You think the son of thunder can die just like that? Thunder would strike my coffin first.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

The doctor returned with two nurses and they wheeled me into a smaller, private ward. Toyosi and Jude led the way, while Tiffany followed right behind—barking instructions like a military wife on a rescue mission.

When the nurses finally left us alone, she exhaled deeply. “Please, next time you want to almost die, send me a text first.”

I grinned. “You’ll be the first on the invitation list.”

Toyosi laughed softly from the corner. Even Jude smiled small.

"But tell me, what exactly happened to you?" Toyosi asked, folding her arms with that British concern that always sounds like judgement.

Tiffany’s eyes followed, resting on me with that same suspicious calm—like she was waiting to catch me lying.

"How did you end up like this, for real?" Toyosi pressed again, this time sounding like a detective from BBC Africa.

Truth is, I hadn’t planned what to say since they walked in. I turned to Jude for backup; he just gave me that small nod that clearly meant, “Guy, don’t say jack. Just freestyle.”

And since one of the perks of being the son of Thunder is knowing how to lie so well you’d convince even FBI, I cleared my throat and began.

“So… we were at our usual bar, yeah? Some gang mistook us for their rivals. We got talking and it turned to a heated argument. So one of them pulled a knife and stabbed Baba T. So Baba T is dead.”

Tiffany’s eyes widened. Toyosi gasped like she just heard cooking gas price had increased again.
“Wait, what? Baba T is dead?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We rushed him to the hospital, but he didn’t make it. Me, Jude, and Kenny… we couldn’t take it. We beat the guys so bad, their ancestors probably flinched in their graves.”

They both went silent. Then Tiffany sighed and said softly, “Wow. I actually liked him. He was...the calm one among you, but in a funny way.”

Toyosi nodded slowly. “Yeah, I remember him. He said he wanted to be a motivational speaker. I told him he needed motivation first....eeeyah... may his soul rest in peace."

“Okay, fine. But how did you end up like this?” Tiffany asked.

I sighed and rubbed my bandaged arm. “That same night, the gang came after me. They broke into my place and beat me up. Next thing I knew, I woke up here. Jude’s been the one taking care of me since then. As for Kenny… he’s like Baba T’s widow. He took the whole thing worse than anyone else.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie—just ninety percent true and ten percent remix.

They both looked at me with pity. Tiffany came closer, brushing my hair like I was her lost puppy.

“You’ll be fine,” she said softly. “I’m staying here with you till you get better. And I don't want to hear pim on that...”

Toyosi added, “We’ll even get you something to eat. And maybe a barber to come shave your hair right here. You’re beginning to look like Osama Bin Laden.”

“A barber? Inside the hospital?” I laughed. “You girls are crazy.”

Tiffany gave me a side-eye. “Have you heard about the Saudi sleeping prince?”

“No. Who is that?”

“A prince who’s been in a coma for over twenty years,” she said, scrolling through her phone. “Here—look.”

She shoved the phone in my face.

“Twenty years and he’s still cute,” I said. “Wow.”

“Exactly!” Tiffany said. “Because he let people care for him.”

“That’s because he’s in a coma,” I said. “He doesn’t exactly have a choice.”

Tiffany smirked. “Then maybe I should tell the doctor to put you in the same coma. That way, I’ll finally have my way with you.”

Toyosi gasped dramatically. “Tiff, yes, that's exactly what we'll do.”

They both burst into laughter and walked out, leaving me staring at the door, shaking my head.

“These women will kill me before the stitches heal.” I said to myself.

The room was quiet after Tiffany and Toyosi left.
I could still hear their laughter fading down the hallway — light and carefree.

Then I noticed Jude standing by the door.
He wasn’t smiling. His eyes looked heavy, like he’d been carrying something too hard to say.

He walked up to me slowly, hands deep in his pockets.
“Bro,” he said, voice low, “I need to go.”

I blinked. “Go where?”

“Out of the city,” he replied. “And I'm leaving tonight.”

I tried to sit up. “Why? What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about it for days now. Kenny is still out there. And you and I both know he won’t stop until he finds me. The guy’s broken, and broken people are dangerous.”
He paused, eyes darting toward the window. “I wanted to leave two days ago, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave you alone. But now that Tiffany and Toyosi are here, I know you’ll be fine. You’ve got people who will truly care for you.”

I forced a weak smile. “So you’re leaving because Toyosi is around, right?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, bro. Not that.”
He looked me straight in the eyes. “I’ve moved past Toyosi. What happened between us taught me something I’ll never forget in my life— never let what people think about you decide how you live your life.”

His voice cracked a little. “I spent too long trying to prove I wasn’t a fool, trying to look strong, trying to be who I’m not. And look where it got me — lost, scared, and almost broken. But now… I just want peace. I just want to start again.”

We both went silent for a moment. The room felt heavier and quieter.

Then he smiled faintly and said, “I just miss Baba T, man.”

I nodded slowly. “We all do.”
That single name brought the silence back — thick and cold.

He sighed. “When they finally release his body, I’ll find a way to come back. No matter where I am, I’ll show up for his burial. He deserves that much from me.”

I smiled weakly. “Yeah… he really does.”

Then I mentioned Cynthia, but Jude quickly waved it off.
“She’s a big girl,” he said, forcing a half-smile. “Wherever she is, she’ll be fine. I’m done worrying about what I can’t fix. So be safe my bro....”

I felt a weight settle on my chest the moment I saw his eyes. I’ve known him long enough to recognize that look — the one that says his mind is made up. And when it gets to that point, nothing can change it.

“So this is it?” I asked quietly, fighting back the tears.

He nodded. “For now. I’ll keep in touch. We’re brothers, remember? Blood doesn’t make family — loyalty does.”

I got up slowly and hugged him. We didn’t say anything for a while. We just stood there, two broken men trying to hold each other together.

When we finally let go, his eyes were red but shining.

“Take care of yourself, bro,” he said. “You’ve been through hell, but you’re still standing. Don’t forget that. You’re stronger than you think.”
He paused and looked straight into my eyes like he suddenly remembered something.
“And if you ever feel like jumping off a bridge again, you better call me first. Because if I ever hear you died, I swear I’ll find your corpse, tie it around my neck, and dive into the same ocean. That way, at least you’ll know you killed both of us.”

I swallowed hard and forced a smile. “And you… don’t let the world turn your heart cold. You hear me?”

He laughed softly, wiping his face. “Too late for that,” he said, half-joking, half-true.

Then he turned, grabbed his small bag from the corner, and headed for the door.
He looked back one last time and said, “We’ll meet again, Darous. Maybe when all this madness is over.”

The door closed quietly behind him.

And just like that, the room went still again.
I stared at the empty doorway for a long time — feeling grateful, scared, and alone all at once.

It’s crazy how people come into your life, change it, and then leave —
but still leave a part of themselves behind in you.




To be continued.

Drop your comments below. One more episode on this page before we continue oooooo

Almost cried reading this episode..
Keep it up The blessed man

Another thrilling episode. Something just came to my mind....are these 2 girls part of the Circle.

I wish Jude didnt leave, Darious needs his right hand man.

Ride on bro. Keep it coming.

drewbar:
Another thrilling episode. Something just came to my mind....are these 2 girls part of the Circle.

I wish Jude didnt leave, Darious needs his right hand man.

Ride on bro. Keep it coming.

are they part of the circle? I've been asking myself too o. And now Jude leaving? Ah .. not this time ahswear

Typicool8:
Almost cried reading this episode..
Keep it up The blessed man

same here bro. I wan cry when I read it

drewbar:
Chuck doesn't limp else Darous would have noticed it.

spot on bro

Episode 20- Tiffany's Kidnapping Plans.


Detective Kalu was very tired when he got back to the station that night. He pushed Kenny into one of the cells and locked it himself. Then he sat on the bench beside the cell, rubbing his forehead slowly.
He already knew what he wanted to do next.

He knew Kenny had nothing to do with the Circle. Kenny was just a desperate man trying to find the lady who killed his friend. Those two men with him that night — the ones in black shades — were hired muscles, nothing more. But the way they suddenly turned on Kenny when that Jeep arrived… that said something bigger.

The guys knew the man inside the Jeep. They knew who the Limping man is.

Kalu was sure — those men got an order from the limping man that night. To silence Kenny.
If he hadn’t shown up when he did, Kenny would be lying dead in gutter right now.

So Kalu made up his mind.
He was going to use Kenny to reach those men… and through them, get to the Limping Man.

The plan was simple — get Kenny to open up about the men, how he found them, who they worked for. Then he’d contact them, pretend to hire them for a small private job — maybe “extra security” for an event. He’d bait them with money they couldn’t resist, gain their trust, play along… and then, when the time was right, follow them straight to the heart of the Circle.

That was the plan.
But there was one big problem — Kenny wasn’t talking.

Two whole days of intense questioning has been met with nothing but silence from Kenny.
The man just sat there, beaten, tired, but still holding his tongue. He could tell Kenny was deeply affected by Baba T's death.

By the fifth day, Kalu was running out of patience. He decided to take a break and visit the hospital morgue to see Baba T’s body. Maybe looking at that face again would help him think clearly, maybe even spot something he missed before. In his line of work, the smallest detail could be the key to solving everything.

When Kalu got to the hospital, he walked straight to the morgue office.
But what he heard there made his heart skip.

“Ah, Detective Kalu,” the morgue attendant said casually. “We’ve already received clearance for that body. It’s been approved for burial — just waiting for pickup.”

Kalu frowned. “Clearance? From who?”

The man shrugged. “From above. All the papers are complete. The order came in yesterday. The body will be handed over to one of his friends… a man named Darous Emmanuel.”

For a few seconds, Kalu couldn’t move. His brain just… jammed.
Then anger rose inside him like fire.

Darous Emmanuel.
That quiet, confused-looking boy who came to his office, telling him he wanted to retract his statement — he somehow got a high-level clearance to bury a murder victim? Without police authorization?

That was impossible.
That was corruption — deep, dangerous corruption.

Kalu left the hospital with his jaw tight, his heart burning.
Back in his office, he dug through his files and found Darous’ contact number from the day he came to withdraw his earlier statement about Ebenezer’s death.

He dialed it immediately.
Darous picked up on the third ring, sounding weak and tired.

“Darous,” Kalu said sharply. “I want to see you. In my office. Now.”

There was silence on the other end. Then Darous spoke, voice shaky.
“Detective, I can’t come right now. I’m in the hospital.”

Kalu’s eyes narrowed. “Which hospital?”

After a pause, Darous gave the name. His voice was hesitant, like someone who had something to hide.

Kalu wrote it down quietly, his eyes cold.
He ended the call, dropped the phone, and sat back in his chair.

Something wasn’t right.

Kalu stared at the phone for a long moment after the call ended. His gut twisted with that familiar feeling — the one that always came before something dirty was about to unfold.

He picked up the receiver again and dialed a direct line — one only a few officers had access to. It rang twice before a heavy voice answered.

“Hello, sir,” Kalu said, his tone stiff. “This is Detective Kalu. I just got word from the morgue. The body of one Babatunde Omitunde — the ongoing homicide case — has been cleared for burial. I need to confirm if that came from your office.”

There was a short silence on the other end, then a sigh.
“Yes, I’m aware of it,” the voice said. “The order came from above.”

Kalu frowned. “Above?”
“That’s right,” the man replied, his voice flat and cautious. “We got a directive from the top. The reports now classify the case as a cult-related killing. You know how messy those can get. The ogas decided it’s best to close it quickly before it stirs unnecessary tension.”

Kalu’s fingers tightened around the phone. “With due respect, sir… that’s not procedure. The autopsy report wasn’t even completed. And there’s an ongoing investigation. How can it just be cleared like that?”

Another pause. This one heavier.
“Detective Kalu,” the man said finally, his tone dropping. “Sometimes, you need to learn when to stop digging. Drop this one. Channel your energy into something that saves lives, not one that’ll make you lose yours.”

The line went dead.

Kalu was shocked. The room felt smaller, the air thicker. A cult-related killing? That was nonsense. He’d seen the case file prepared by Corporal Saheed and Moses — there was nothing cult-like about the case. And for the clearance to come that fast? Someone powerful was pulling strings.

He leaned back in his chair slowly, his jaw tight.
“Darous,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re not clean in this.”

His instincts — the same ones that had kept him alive this long — told him one thing loud and clear:
This wasn’t just corruption.
This was the Circle. And they were already two steps ahead of him.

He sprang to his feet, snatched his car keys from the table, and stormed out.

*************


I dropped the phone slowly and stared at the ceiling. My eyes weren’t smiling at all.

Tiffany who had been scrolling through her phone beside me, noticed immediately.
“What happened? Who was that?” she asked.

I sighed. “Detective Kalu. The same officer that interrogated me at the party. He said I should come to his office.”

She frowned. “Office? In your condition? Does he know you’re in the hospital?”

“I told him,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Maybe he’ll come here instead.”

She reached out and held my hand. “Hey, don’t stress yourself over that. You need to rest. Let them handle whatever they’re handling. The most important thing right now is you getting better.”

I smiled weakly. “You sound like my doctor.”

“Good,” she said, standing up and adjusting her bag. "Don't you forget to listen to your doctor's instructions then..."

I chuckled. “Where are you going?”

“I want to drop Toyosi home, take one or two things...” she said, brushing her hair back. “Then I’ll come back and stay with you till you get better..”

I raised a brow. “You sure the nurses won’t chase you out?”

She grinned. “Let them try. I’ll tell them I’m your personal nurse, wife, and emotional support system — all in one. Just anything I need to be to make them back the hell off.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

She leaned closer, her perfume filling the air. “Just get some rest, okay? I’ll be back before you start missing me too much.”

“Too late,” I said with a small smile.

She smiled back, gave me a long deep kiss on my sore lips, winked, and walked out — leaving me staring at the door, wondering what the detective really wanted from me this time.

An hour later, I was sitting on the hospital bed, arm bandaged, still fighting the dull ache running through my body, when the door swung open with a loud push.

Detective Kalu walked in — no greeting, no smile, just that same hard stare.

“Mr. Darous,” he said slowly, shutting the door behind him. “You and I need to talk.”

I looked up, tired. “Detective, I told you everything already.”

He gave a short, dry laugh. “Everything? You think I’m that foolish?”

He took a step closer, his shoes squeaking on the tiled floor. “You see, the day you came to my office to retract your statement about the death of Ebenezer — the man that limping guy shot at Mrs. Adeoye’s event — I knew you were lying.”

I frowned, trying to stay calm. “I—”

He raised his hand sharply. “Don’t interrupt me. I knew you were lying because your eyes said something your mouth didn’t. I let it go… but now?” He shook his head. “Now, I see the whole picture.”

He walked to the foot of the bed, folded his arms. “You couldn’t afford the four hundred thousand naira you used to rent that G-Wagon. Not as a bricklayer. You couldn’t afford that Rolex either. You think I don’t know?”

I swallowed hard. “Detective, I—”

“I followed you,” he cut in, his voice low but sharp. “From the hospital, the night your friend died. I saw the woman who came out of your house. I traced her — Mushin garage area. And do you know what I found out?”

I stayed silent. My pulse started to race.

He leaned in. “She killed your friend, Baba T. You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know you handed her over to the Circle to protect her? And now, you’re using those same people to cover the whole thing up — getting a burial clearance overnight without police authorization.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His words hit me like a brick to the chest. How did he even know all that? Baba T’s death… Cynthia… the Circle… everything I thought was buried somewhere between whispers and silence, he laid it all out like he’d been there with us.

But it was the last part that shook me the most — the part about the burial clearance. I just sat there, staring at him, my mind trying to process what he’d said. Burial clearance? Overnight? By me? That didn’t make any sense.

Just a few hours ago, Jude and I had accepted that Baba T wouldn’t be buried anytime soon. We’d already made peace with the waiting, the endless police procedures and investigations. So how on earth could there be a clearance already? And how could it possibly be traced back to me?

The more I thought about it, the colder I felt inside. Something was happening behind my back — something I didn’t understand yet — and the fact that the detective knew about it before I did made my skin crawl.

He took a deep breath and hissed. “You’re good, Darous. Too good. But not that good.”

My throat felt dry. “Detective, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re making wild assumptions.”

He smiled faintly — the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “Really? Then answer this. Where did a bricklayer like you get the money to rent that G-Wagon? Four hundred thousand naira, for one day?”

I froze. My mouth opened but no words came out.

And then — a voice from the door broke the silence.

“I gave him.”

We both turned.

There she was — Tiffany.

Leaning slightly on the doorframe, wearing a fitted white dress and a calm, expensive confidence that filled the room before her perfume did. Her hair was sleek, her diamond earrings catching the weak hospital light.

Detective Kalu blinked. “And you are…?”

She stepped forward, heels clicking softly on the floor. “The woman who paid for the car,” she said simply. “And if you have a problem with that, detective, maybe you should start investigating me next.”

Kalu’s face hardened, but for a moment, he didn’t speak.

Tiffany turned to me and smiled faintly — the kind of smile that said, Relax. I’ve got this.

The detective exhaled slowly. “This isn’t over, Mr. Darous,” he said, pointing a finger at me. He leaned closer to me and whisper in my ear. “The Circle may protect you now… but one day, the ground will open beneath your feet. And I’ll be there when it does.”

He stormed out, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Tiffany stood beside my bed and brushed imaginary dust off her dress. “You really should stop getting into trouble, Darous,” she said softly.

I looked at her — confused, exhausted, and strangely relieved.

That night, Tiffany and I slept in the hospital. And before your mind starts running wild — no, not together. Separate beds. Two whole different beds, thank you very much.

The next few days were oddly peaceful. The hospital felt less gloomy, more like… home. Tiffany had that kind of presence — soft yet commanding, like a nurse with a PhD in stress control. She made sure I ate on time, took my meds, and didn’t try any heroic escape from the ward. The nurses practically answered to her. Honestly, I think even the doctor started reporting to her at some point.

When it was finally time for me to be discharged, she crossed her arms like a general about to announce war.
“You’re not going home,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re following me to my place.”

“Follow you ke? Tiffany, you know this is kidnapping, right?” I said, trying to sit up.

She smirked. “Kidnapping? Please. You think kidnappers feed you, give you drugs, and sleep beside you on your hospital bed? You should be thanking this your kidnapper.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, even though I tried to hide it. “So I’m your hostage now?”

“Hostage with air conditioning and three square meals, and maybe...maybe a piece of this a*ss if you behave yourself.” She said turning her well shaped backside to me. She rolled her eyes. “Be grateful. Some people are kidnapped to the forest. You’re being kidnapped to a duplex.”

I just stared at her, shaking my head. This woman is impossible.
“Besides,” she added, her tone suddenly softening, “I just don’t want those gangs coming back for you. Not when you’re still weak.”

That last line did something to me — something I didn’t have a name for. Maybe it was the care in her voice, or the way her eyes stared deeply into my eyes. But in that moment, all I could think was… if this was kidnapping, maybe I didn’t really mind being the victim.


To be continued.

😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳
Wooooooooow

Crazy
Crazy
Crazy.....

Nollywood writers where are you? Come and see crazy pen game at work...

TheBlessedMan is the best on this literature section ahswear. Man... This is like COUNTLESS pro pro and pro max of the maxes 😂

This is crazily intense I swear.


Darous is really in it this time around. I love how everything is connecting.

The tiffany kind of love can make someone jealous oh my god. Can't stop giggling with all her scenes. The girl get one crazy aura.

Kenny went too far but I understand some people can break into their darkest part. He's a funny guy on his best days and now on his darkest days we can only expect the worse of him. That's just how humans are wired.

Jude, my dear Jude... You will be missed.

So it's my gender that started the break down of this lovely friendship circle?

I'm not shocked.


TheBlessedMan, you are indeed blessed man. You that bomb 💣💣💣💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

drewbar:
That's the most obvious thing but I know TBM wants us to think that way and he will do the unexpected. I feel they will work together for their mutual benefit. The Circle will want him to work with Kalu so they can control the narrative but he will end up betraying them. Anyway TBM. Was I close in my assertions.

and do you still think that's what happened? Man got crazy way to twist his stories you'll never see it coming. 😂😂😂😂

dawno2008:
Kai, TBM nor you be you again?, walahi you too good,what a ride,you really did a big one on me from smiling like mumu to squeezing face like say I wan mess for public 😂
From sharing laughers and strong bond to crying and wailing within a twinkle of eye😔, TBM you are really a gifted writer,do knows how to carry readers along, seriously you really know how to handle my mumu button,😂😂😂

I love the chemistry or biology between Darous and Tiffany, typical classic true love story,though this genZ generation fit nor fit understand , and for det Kalu,make senior man no go jeopardize Darous passive income ooo😂😂😂,(who no like money nau)🤗
Baba I dey ya back like hunchback, anywhere you go ,I follow 💯😂,like mtn👏,shey make we still dey expect another update today ni,🤔
TBM you to much🍺.
And for Cynthia,I nor dey take nonsense,she allowed anger control her, she's a weak dick loving slowpoke😏,make dem open kirikiri gate for her joor😔

You never see anything, I bet by the time he finishes this story, it might be the best story ever written on Nairaland beating his own previous record on COUNTLESS

Ohibenemma:
Wow! That's all I can say. This has all the shades of a well-cooked action movie. Waiting awhile before reading was quite worth it.

TheBlessedMan, keep it up.

And I echo the thoughts of previous commenters that you've become so much better at this over time. Those days with COUNTLESS felt like children playing around aimlessly, compared to this. I remember giving up on the story at some point as I couldn't just make any sense of it...

BUT THIS?

let's just call it THE BOMB!

Countless still da bomb if you ask me o... But this one? My bro? It's something else entirely. This one Na crazyness in play. TBM na mad writer ahswear

Wow… just wow. I don’t even know where to start.

TheBlessedMan, you are different. You didn’t just write a story — you built a world. A world that feels so real, so haunting, so unpredictable that each new episode feels like stepping into another layer of madness and beauty combined. The twists… the turns… the silence between moments that suddenly explode into chaos — everything about this story screams genius.

From the first episode, I thought I had a grip on what was happening — but every time I thought I understood, you flipped the entire table on me. The suspense, the mystery, the subtle emotional undertones… I’ve laughed, been scared, almost cried, and even paused just to breathe and take in what I’d just read.

And then there’s Tiffany. My goodness. That character is art. She’s not just written — she’s felt. The way she carries mystery in her silence, danger in her charm, and a strange softness under all that cold brilliance… I don’t even know how you managed to balance that. She’s easily one of the most magnetic characters I’ve ever seen in a story. You didn’t just make her beautiful — you made her unforgettable.

The way you wove in Kalu’s pain, Baba T’s legacy, and the Circle’s dark depth… it’s like you took all the elements of crime, love, loss, betrayal, and spirituality, and you kneaded them into one masterpiece. Each episode feels like a painting — and we, your readers, are just lucky to witness it unfold.

Sometimes I stop and just smile — because the writing feels alive. The words breathe. The scenes hit hard. The story doesn’t beg for attention — it owns it. You can tell it’s written by someone who understands both darkness and light, and how to dance between them.

If there’s one thing I’ll say, it’s this — TheBlessedMan, you’ve done something rare. You didn’t just tell a story… you enchanted us with one. Every line feels deliberate, every scene feels necessary. You’ve made me fall in love with storytelling all over again.

Keep writing, sir. We’re watching history in motion.

— A loyal reader who’s still trying to recover from Tiffany’s last move. 😮🔥

SmartestPopQUEEN:
😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😲😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳
Wooooooooow

Crazy
Crazy
Crazy.....

Nollywood writers where are you? Come and see crazy pen game at work...

TheBlessedMan is the best on this literature section ahswear. Man... This is like COUNTLESS pro pro and pro max of the maxes 😂

This is crazily intense I swear.


Darous is really in it this time around. I love how everything is connecting.

The tiffany kind of love can make someone jealous oh my god. Can't stop giggling with all her scenes. The girl get one crazy aura.

Kenny went too far but I understand some people can break into their darkest part. He's a funny guy on his best days and now on his darkest days we can only expect the worse of him. That's just how humans are wired.

Jude, my dear Jude... You will be missed.

So it's my gender that started the break down of this lovely friendship circle?

I'm not shocked.


TheBlessedMan, you are indeed blessed man. You that bomb 💣💣💣💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

I'm just but a humble writer ma'am. You are appreciated ma. Thanks for dropping by.

manuelFORBES:
Wow… just wow. I don’t even know where to start.

TheBlessedMan, you are different. You didn’t just write a story — you built a world. A world that feels so real, so haunting, so unpredictable that each new episode feels like stepping into another layer of madness and beauty combined. The twists… the turns… the silence between moments that suddenly explode into chaos — everything about this story screams genius.

From the first episode, I thought I had a grip on what was happening — but every time I thought I understood, you flipped the entire table on me. The suspense, the mystery, the subtle emotional undertones… I’ve laughed, been scared, almost cried, and even paused just to breathe and take in what I’d just read.

And then there’s Tiffany. My goodness. That character is art. She’s not just written — she’s felt. The way she carries mystery in her silence, danger in her charm, and a strange softness under all that cold brilliance… I don’t even know how you managed to balance that. She’s easily one of the most magnetic characters I’ve ever seen in a story. You didn’t just make her beautiful — you made her unforgettable.

The way you wove in Kalu’s pain, Baba T’s legacy, and the Circle’s dark depth… it’s like you took all the elements of crime, love, loss, betrayal, and spirituality, and you kneaded them into one masterpiece. Each episode feels like a painting — and we, your readers, are just lucky to witness it unfold.

Sometimes I stop and just smile — because the writing feels alive. The words breathe. The scenes hit hard. The story doesn’t beg for attention — it owns it. You can tell it’s written by someone who understands both darkness and light, and how to dance between them.

If there’s one thing I’ll say, it’s this — TheBlessedMan, you’ve done something rare. You didn’t just tell a story… you enchanted us with one. Every line feels deliberate, every scene feels necessary. You’ve made me fall in love with storytelling all over again.

Keep writing, sir. We’re watching history in motion.

— A loyal reader who’s still trying to recover from Tiffany’s last move. 😮🔥

Bro why Na... Why you wan make me cry Na... See as I dey giggle... This is super.. I love that my readers love my work. I appreciate it boss 🙏

This gat me emotional

TheBlessedMAN:
EPISODE 19 — Scars and Goodbyes.

For one week, I was in that hospital — one long, painful week.
The first night I got there, I honestly thought that was my end. My body wasn’t paining me — it was holding a full-blown protest. My ribs were playing Tekken, my chest was doing WWE SmackDown, and my back? That one was running its own government project with no completion date in sight.

Every morning, the nurses would troop in like soldiers on duty.
“Sir, small prick,” one said, holding a syringe.

I frowned. “You people should at least agree that it’s not small again. Since yesterday, you’ve been pricking me like mosquito wey never chop since last year.”

The doctor behind her chuckled. A tall man with a bald head that reflected light like mirror.
“You’re healing well,” he said in his deep baritone. “No fractures, but you have muscle bruises, contusions, mild internal swelling, and dehydration.”

I blinked slowly. “Doctor, just say it like you are talking to a bricklayer — sheybi I go live?”

He smiled. “You’ll live.”

“Good,” I nodded. “Because the god of thunder don enter menopause, he no fit get another child wey go replace me o.”

He laughed and patted my shoulder. “You’ll be fine, son of thunder.”

Jude was there too, standing like a bouncer at the door. When the doctor left, he sighed.
“Guy, you strong o. I swear, when I saw you lying on the floor that night, I swear I thought you don go.”

I laughed small. “Go where? I never even born pikin. You think Shango will allow his prodigal son to die like that?”

He smiled and shook his head. “You no go ever change....you and this your thunder talk....”

The painkillers they gave me were strong enough to make a lion humble. But each time I coughed, it felt like my lungs were sending resignation letters.

By the fourth day, I could at least move around small. My face no longer looked like puff-puff, just a little bit swollen.
Jude came in that morning with a nylon bag and dropped it beside me.
“What’s that?” I asked.

He grinned. “By the way, that new phone you asked me to get for you — I got it.”

“Oh, you don buy am?” I asked, already stretching my hand like a kid waiting for candy.

“Yes na. abi the six hundred K wey you say make I comot with your ATM na for land?” He said, reaching into my wallet to pull out the SIM card I retrieved the previous day. “Let’s set it up.”

He slipped the SIM into the new phone, hit the power button, and the screen came alive like a new dawn.
He helped me set everything up — restored my contacts from cloud storage, synced my old details. After some hours, it almost felt like nothing had been lost; like I’d taken back a piece of my life Kenny had stolen.

Then he handed the phone to me. “Take.”

I smiled weakly. “Ah, Baba Jude — the telecom messiah himself.”

He chuckled. “Better thank me well before I carry it back.”

We both laughed, but the laughter didn’t last long. Soon, the talk drifted to Baba T — how much we missed him, and what would happen to his body.
Jude called someone he knew to ask if it was possible to get the body released for burial, but the response wasn't what we expected at all.
It's legally impossible for now.

The police were still investigating, and until they cleared it, the hospital couldn’t hand the body over — not even to his family.

I felt something sink deep inside me.
It hit me — Baba T’s burial might not happen anytime soon. It would take pure luck, because the police would never find the person who stabbed him — Cynthia.
And the painful part? It was me, his own friend, who helped her escape.

That thought sat heavy in my chest… and I knew it would haunt me for a very long time.

That same night, around 8:30 p.m., Chuka messaged me.

CHUKA: Good you’re online. What happened? I’ve been trying to reach you for three days now. Where are you?

I quickly typed back, explaining everything briefly — the attack and how I was now in the hospital.
Minutes later, his reply came in:

CHUKA: Send me the hospital’s account details. No questions asked.

That message alone said everything.
I called one of the nurses, got the hospital’s account number, and sent it to him.

A few moments later, another message popped up:

CHUKA: Stay put. Don’t worry about the bills. Everything is covered. Get well. We’ll talk later.

I read that line three times.
“Everything is covered?” I muttered. Then I looked around suspiciously.
“Abi he don sell my kidney in advance?”

I chuckled weakly, but then something started itching my brain. I picked up the phone again and typed:

Me: Boss, one small thing. That night… Cynthia. You people got her, abi?

His reply came fast — sharp and heavy like a slap.

CHUKA: Funny, isn’t it? For someone who remembers even the tiniest details — like what I wore the first day we met — you sure have a big problem remembering rules.

A few seconds later, another message followed:

CHUKA: No questions asked.

I frowned, my thumb hovering above the screen.

Me: But boss, I just wan—

Before I could finish typing, another message landed.

CHUKA: And let it be the last time you ask me about anyone related to the Circle. It’s none of your business. We let you know what we want you to know… and we will allow you to not know what we don’t want you to know.

I just stared at the screen, mouth half-open.
For a long moment, I didn’t move. Then I dropped the phone on my chest and sighed deeply.

No questions asked, eh?

But the way he said “anyone related to the Circle” hit differently in my head.
It could only mean one thing — they got Cynthia that night. That thought sent some relief into my worried mind.

And as for Kenny — no one had seen or heard from him since that night. Maybe he left town or something happened to him, either way, we need to move on from that.
But deep down, I knew one thing for sure — we all missed Baba T.


Morning of the fifth day, I was deep in sleep when my new phone rang. I opened one eye with a groan but when I saw the name, my heart skipped.
Tiffany.

I picked up weakly. “Hello?”

Her voice came through soft but shaky. “Darous… oh my God, Darous you got me worried...how are you? Are you okay?”

I smiled faintly. “Last I checked, yes. Still in one piece — just refurbished.” She let out a sigh from the other end. "But I'm in a hospital."

She gasped. “Hospital? What happened?”

I sighed. “Long story jare my queen of wahala. I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“No! You’ll tell me the address of that hospital right now!” She declared.

"And if I don't?"

She didn’t even pause. “Then I’ll start calling every hospital in Lagos till I find the one that has a fine boy named trouble magnet on their bed!”

I chuckled weakly. “Ah, abeg no disgrace me like that o.”

“Try me,” she fired back. “Don’t make me trend for the wrong reason — ‘Woman storms hospitals hunting for wounded boyfriend.’”

I laughed, wincing at the pain in my ribs. “Okay, okay, calm down Inspector Tiffany. I’ll send you the address before you start doing nationwide search and rescue.”

“Good,” she said, voice softening a little. “Because if I find out from another source, I’ll personally unplug your drip when I get there.”

I smiled into the phone. “You see why even devil is afraid of you?”

I gave her the hospital name and address.
Before I could even say, “don’t come,” she ended the call.

Two hours later, my ward turned to a movie set.

Tiffany walked in like she owned the building — followed by Toyosi, both of them looking like they were headed to a wedding, not a hospital. Tiffany wore a tight black dress, earrings shining like transformer sparks. Toyosi’s perfume hit the air before she even entered — sweet and expensive. My eyes settled on Tiffany's breast. Wow. Those sumptuously looking breast. My mind drifted back to the night at Mrs Adeoye. How I handled that breast and all the thrills that followed. I was already fantasising about how I will handle her when next the opportunity presents itself when Tiffany's next action broke into my thoughts.

Tiffany didn’t even greet me first. She marched straight to the nurse’s desk and said in that her rich girl accent that only appears during drama:
“Excuse me! Why is this man’s bed so close to the generator house? Are you trying to kill him with carbon dioxide?”

The nurse blinked like she was buffering. “Ma, please, you can’t—”

Tiffany cut her off. “No, you can’t! You’ll move him to another private room right now.”

The nurse frowned. “Sorry, ma, only the patient or family members can make such a request.”

Right then, the doctor entered — same bald-headed one. Tiffany turned to him sharply.
“Doctor, please, this environment is not safe for him. The fumes from that generator could kill him!”

The doctor adjusted his glasses calmly. “Madam, please relax. I understand your concern, but that generator house is quite far from his ward window. Besides, hospital policy only allows relatives to request transfers.”

Tiffany hesitated, blinked once, then said smoothly, “Alright then… does the title of wife count as relative in your hospital policy? Because I’m his wife.”

I nearly choked. My eyes almost jumped out of their sockets.

Right at that exact moment, Jude walked in holding a bottle of Lucozade. The doctor turned to him immediately.
“Sir, can you confirm that, please?”

Without blinking, Jude said, “Of course, doctor. They even got married the same day Diogo Jota and his wife did. It’s a football thing.”

The doctor squinted. “Diogo Jota?”

Tiffany nodded seriously. “Yes. The Brazilian goalkeeper. We’re huge fans.”

I bit my tongue not to laugh.

Toyosi stood by the door, arms folded. Her eyes met Jude’s — and instantly, the air went cold. Jude looked away, pretending to scroll through his phone.

Tiffany wasn’t done.
“If you don’t move him to a safer ward,” she said, “I’ll call an ambulance and take him to another hospital right now.”

The doctor raised his hands. “Alright, alright. We’ll move him. Please, calm down.”

She turned to me, still breathing hard. “See what I mean? You can’t even rest in peace in this kind of environment!”

I smiled weakly. “Babe, I’m not dead yet. And I’m perfectly fine here.”

She gave me a look. “Fine? You’re just one moustache away from Osama bin Laden.”

I chuckled. “And yet here you are…beside a terrorist. What if American troops raid this place right now?”

She folded her arms. “Good. At least they’ll rescue me first. You?—” she pointed at me—“they’ll interrogate you till you get well enough to be shipped away.”

I smirked. “Then I’ll tell them you’re the mastermind. You fit the profile.”

She rolled her eyes. “Keep talking, Osama Junior.”

She sat beside me, holding my hand. For once, her voice went soft.
“You scared me, Darous. You really did.”

I smiled. “You think the son of thunder can die just like that? Thunder would strike my coffin first.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

The doctor returned with two nurses and they wheeled me into a smaller, private ward. Toyosi and Jude led the way, while Tiffany followed right behind—barking instructions like a military wife on a rescue mission.

When the nurses finally left us alone, she exhaled deeply. “Please, next time you want to almost die, send me a text first.”

I grinned. “You’ll be the first on the invitation list.”

Toyosi laughed softly from the corner. Even Jude smiled small.

"But tell me, what exactly happened to you?" Toyosi asked, folding her arms with that British concern that always sounds like judgement.

Tiffany’s eyes followed, resting on me with that same suspicious calm—like she was waiting to catch me lying.

"How did you end up like this, for real?" Toyosi pressed again, this time sounding like a detective from BBC Africa.

Truth is, I hadn’t planned what to say since they walked in. I turned to Jude for backup; he just gave me that small nod that clearly meant, “Guy, don’t say jack. Just freestyle.”

And since one of the perks of being the son of Thunder is knowing how to lie so well you’d convince even FBI, I cleared my throat and began.

“So… we were at our usual bar, yeah? Some gang mistook us for their rivals. We got talking and it turned to a heated argument. So one of them pulled a knife and stabbed Baba T. So Baba T is dead.”

Tiffany’s eyes widened. Toyosi gasped like she just heard cooking gas price had increased again.
“Wait, what? Baba T is dead?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “We rushed him to the hospital, but he didn’t make it. Me, Jude, and Kenny… we couldn’t take it. We beat the guys so bad, their ancestors probably flinched in their graves.”

They both went silent. Then Tiffany sighed and said softly, “Wow. I actually liked him. He was...the calm one among you, but in a funny way.”

Toyosi nodded slowly. “Yeah, I remember him. He said he wanted to be a motivational speaker. I told him he needed motivation first....eeeyah... may his soul rest in peace."

“Okay, fine. But how did you end up like this?” Tiffany asked.

I sighed and rubbed my bandaged arm. “That same night, the gang came after me. They broke into my place and beat me up. Next thing I knew, I woke up here. Jude’s been the one taking care of me since then. As for Kenny… he’s like Baba T’s widow. He took the whole thing worse than anyone else.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie—just ninety percent true and ten percent remix.

They both looked at me with pity. Tiffany came closer, brushing my hair like I was her lost puppy.

“You’ll be fine,” she said softly. “I’m staying here with you till you get better. And I don't want to hear pim on that...”

Toyosi added, “We’ll even get you something to eat. And maybe a barber to come shave your hair right here. You’re beginning to look like Osama Bin Laden.”

“A barber? Inside the hospital?” I laughed. “You girls are crazy.”

Tiffany gave me a side-eye. “Have you heard about the Saudi sleeping prince?”

“No. Who is that?”

“A prince who’s been in a coma for over twenty years,” she said, scrolling through her phone. “Here—look.”

She shoved the phone in my face.

“Twenty years and he’s still cute,” I said. “Wow.”

“Exactly!” Tiffany said. “Because he let people care for him.”

“That’s because he’s in a coma,” I said. “He doesn’t exactly have a choice.”

Tiffany smirked. “Then maybe I should tell the doctor to put you in the same coma. That way, I’ll finally have my way with you.”

Toyosi gasped dramatically. “Tiff, yes, that's exactly what we'll do.”

They both burst into laughter and walked out, leaving me staring at the door, shaking my head.

“These women will kill me before the stitches heal.” I said to myself.

The room was quiet after Tiffany and Toyosi left.
I could still hear their laughter fading down the hallway — light and carefree.

Then I noticed Jude standing by the door.
He wasn’t smiling. His eyes looked heavy, like he’d been carrying something too hard to say.

He walked up to me slowly, hands deep in his pockets.
“Bro,” he said, voice low, “I need to go.”

I blinked. “Go where?”

“Out of the city,” he replied. “And I'm leaving tonight.”

I tried to sit up. “Why? What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about it for days now. Kenny is still out there. And you and I both know he won’t stop until he finds me. The guy’s broken, and broken people are dangerous.”
He paused, eyes darting toward the window. “I wanted to leave two days ago, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave you alone. But now that Tiffany and Toyosi are here, I know you’ll be fine. You’ve got people who will truly care for you.”

I forced a weak smile. “So you’re leaving because Toyosi is around, right?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, bro. Not that.”
He looked me straight in the eyes. “I’ve moved past Toyosi. What happened between us taught me something I’ll never forget in my life— never let what people think about you decide how you live your life.”

His voice cracked a little. “I spent too long trying to prove I wasn’t a fool, trying to look strong, trying to be who I’m not. And look where it got me — lost, scared, and almost broken. But now… I just want peace. I just want to start again.”

We both went silent for a moment. The room felt heavier and quieter.

Then he smiled faintly and said, “I just miss Baba T, man.”

I nodded slowly. “We all do.”
That single name brought the silence back — thick and cold.

He sighed. “When they finally release his body, I’ll find a way to come back. No matter where I am, I’ll show up for his burial. He deserves that much from me.”

I smiled weakly. “Yeah… he really does.”

Then I mentioned Cynthia, but Jude quickly waved it off.
“She’s a big girl,” he said, forcing a half-smile. “Wherever she is, she’ll be fine. I’m done worrying about what I can’t fix. So be safe my bro....”

I felt a weight settle on my chest the moment I saw his eyes. I’ve known him long enough to recognize that look — the one that says his mind is made up. And when it gets to that point, nothing can change it.

“So this is it?” I asked quietly, fighting back the tears.

He nodded. “For now. I’ll keep in touch. We’re brothers, remember? Blood doesn’t make family — loyalty does.”

I got up slowly and hugged him. We didn’t say anything for a while. We just stood there, two broken men trying to hold each other together.

When we finally let go, his eyes were red but shining.

“Take care of yourself, bro,” he said. “You’ve been through hell, but you’re still standing. Don’t forget that. You’re stronger than you think.”
He paused and looked straight into my eyes like he suddenly remembered something.
“And if you ever feel like jumping off a bridge again, you better call me first. Because if I ever hear you died, I swear I’ll find your corpse, tie it around my neck, and dive into the same ocean. That way, at least you’ll know you killed both of us.”

I swallowed hard and forced a smile. “And you… don’t let the world turn your heart cold. You hear me?”

He laughed softly, wiping his face. “Too late for that,” he said, half-joking, half-true.

Then he turned, grabbed his small bag from the corner, and headed for the door.
He looked back one last time and said, “We’ll meet again, Darous. Maybe when all this madness is over.”

The door closed quietly behind him.

And just like that, the room went still again.
I stared at the empty doorway for a long time — feeling grateful, scared, and alone all at once.

It’s crazy how people come into your life, change it, and then leave —
but still leave a part of themselves behind in you.




To be continued.

Drop your comments below. One more episode on this page before we continue oooooo

Thus story is more interesting than most nollywood movie of this era .

drewbar:
Chuck doesn't limp else Darous would have noticed it.

.
Boss you really have a huge point here oo. Darous won't have rant him out supposed he was the killer at that house warming party. Mehn see brilliance from this planet 💯💯✅✅

Wait oo boss, this thing is getting out of hands oo. Jude leaving is paddy because of Kenny, mehn that's huge. But come to think of that self, has he forgotten that word that's says and I quote

" Two Heads are better than one"

Baba wan just go finish himself 😭😭

Darous the trouble magnet

The abido shaker of fine babes


The mkuku mjaga 😁😁

But wait oo. Boss the subject of your last updates was Tiffany kidnapped, but I never evisage it to be that of special treatment ooo 😁😁

Secondly, what just transpired between Darous and Tiffany in circles with Detective kalu, just shows that if you look good and sharp ehn. You can shake the countenance of a police officer from frown to calm.

Anybody wae know the right way to make money, abeg connect me ooo.

Tiffany spirit dae call me. I just need a connector 😁😁🤗🤗

Finally, I have caught up with the story.

God bless you the blessed man.

I have always been an harden follower and this script is you been you.

Amazing and great with writing. And thank you for finding time out of this busy Tinubu regime ro put this masterpiece into writing.

We will now follow bumper to bumper from here

yuno01:
Finally, I have caught up with the story.

God bless you the blessed man.

I have always been an harden follower and this script is you been you.

Amazing and great with writing. And thank you for finding time out of this busy Tinubu regime ro put this masterpiece into writing.



We will now follow bumper to bumper from here

Welcome on board my bro. Thank you for renewing your subscription into the thunder planet.

Let's do justice to this story. I'm counting on you my bro

Ohibenemma:
Wow! That's all I can say. This has all the shades of a well-cooked action movie. Waiting awhile before reading was quite worth it.

TheBlessedMan, keep it up.

And I echo the thoughts of previous commenters that you've become so much better at this over time. Those days with COUNTLESS felt like children playing around aimlessly, compared to this. I remember giving up on the story at some point as I couldn't just make any sense of it...

BUT THIS?

let's just call it THE BOMB!

😂😂😂😂 Writing Countless was like a virgin getting pvssy for the first time. Can't really know how to handle it properly. The idea was there, the zeal was there, because I typed 90percent of it with a button phone.. (Nokia 2700).

But now, we don learn our lessons. Grown better. 7years is enough time to develop into a better writer. I'm just glad I still find the zeal to write again

Welcome on board boss.

This episode was fire! The story keeps getting better and more shocking. Detective Kalu’s anger, Darous’s confusion, and Tiffany’s boldness — everything just fit perfectly. The twist about the burial clearance was crazy, and the ending had me smiling and laughing at the same time. The way you mix tension with humour is world-class. TheBlessedMan, you really know how to hold your readers. Tiffany is a whole vibe, and Darous… that guy is too soft for her! This story deserves to be on Netflix already.🔥

I love you man.. ❤️

TheBlessedMAN:
😂😂😂😂 Writing Countless was like a virgin getting pvssy for the first time. Can't really know how to handle it properly. The idea was there, the zeal was there, because I typed 90percent of it with a button phone.. (Nokia 2700).

But now, we don learn our lessons. Grown better. 7years is enough time to develop into a better writer. I'm just glad I still find the zeal to write again

Welcome on board boss.

Still, that story is 99percent better than what most people write in their lifetime.... Don't humour yourself too much love. You are a legend

TheBlessedMAN:
same here bro. I wan cry when I read it

TBM himself, seriously I need to be kidnapped by Tiffany's kind of gal😍😍😍

Jude needs new environment for fresh breath,and make detective Kalu be calming down jor😔make Darous sef make some doe before the circle take down😂

In chucks voice😂😂😂
"Drop another update now,no questions asked"😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
TBM Weldon, keep it coming baba

dawno2008:
TBM himself, seriously I need to be kidnapped by Tiffany's kind of gal😍😍😍

Jude needs new environment for fresh breath,and make detective Kalu be calming down jor😔make Darous sef make some doe before the circle take down😂

In chucks voice😂😂😂
"Drop another update now,no questions asked"😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
TBM Weldon, keep it coming baba

next episode only drops in the next page o. As per agreement... 😂😂😂

Wetin j wan talk wet others never talk. Tiffany is my best character so far. The way her character makes me laugh and giggle at times makes me wonder how this TBM does it. Ride on man. You da bomb 💣

Let's get to page 8 oooooooooooo. People. This tori sweet pass most Netflix series ahswear 😂😂😂😂💣

Damnnnnnnnnnnnn 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

I am still suspecting the beautiful Tiffany. Lady with too much steeze.

Detective Kalu should take it easy with Darious ooh.

We are waiting for page 8.

drewbar:
I am still suspecting the beautiful Tiffany. Lady with too much steeze.

Detective Kalu should take it easy with Darious ooh.

We are waiting for page 8.

we all waiting o. I no even suppose to dey follow you pursue page 8. But I just want to get this story over with before anything else comes to affect my plans.