₦airaland Forum

SYNOPSIS : In the heart of Lagos, a city's cry for justice is ignited by the bloody trail of the Machete Man

—a vigilante whose brutal quest for retribution sparks a nationwide movement for change.

As the truth behind his murders unravels, it ignites the Machete Movement, a wave of protests that forces a corrupt system to confront its darkest secrets.

This is the story of the man who inspired a global revolution and the city that was forever changed by it.

COMING SOON COPYRIGHT RESERVED ©2024

Hello Everyone, thanks for the build up anticipation, I do write with physical materials I. E pen and paper and then make rewrites on digital, where I edit and rewrite. Chapter One will premiere sometime this week, you won't b disappointed that's one thing, I can assure you. Thank you for your anticipation.

Copyright © 2024 Henry Inketh

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

"Serial Killer 9"
Henry Inketh
2024

SERIAL KILLER 9 SK9 PROLOGUE



On a desolate July night, the streets of Adoh-Ketu, Lagos Mainland, lay shrouded in an unsettling stillness. The perpetual hum of commuters had long dissipated, leaving only a few stragglers to navigate the darkness. Among them was a woman, her goods carefully piled within a large plastic bowl, walking briskly alongside her seven-year-old son, who trailed behind. She had traversed this path countless times, especially when running late, and familiarity had bred a sense of comfort.

As she walked, her mind wandered to the day's events and the exhaustion that came with them. The path, though dimly lit and lonely, wound its way behind fenced buildings and uncompleted structures, stretching over a mile or two before revealing the first of three exits. The cold wind whipped through the cracks and openings of the surrounding buildings, casting eerie silhouettes on the ground.

Suddenly, the boy spoke up, "Mama, there is—" but she silenced him with a gentle yet cautious tone, "Quiet, we'll be home soon." The increasing chatter from the opening ahead reassured her, and she quickened her pace, promising the boy a treat, "What did I tell you? Let's stop and get some beans cake for the night. Wouldn't you like that?"

She stopped. Something felt off, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was as if she was alone, utterly alone.

Little did she know, her son had just become the third victim of a meticulously planned series of serial killings, one that would shake the very foundations of the bustling metropolis. It would be four days before she discovered the horrifying truth.

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BUS CONDUCTORS FIGHT : THAT AGBERO BOY



The sun was high pitched up in the heavenly body - The sky. Unforgiving and relentless it was, such that sparked fears of a heat meltdown.

Ogocha Bus park somewhere in the busy metropolis stand defiant with activities and none was to be blamed or cautioned, it was either work or starve for most loitering the bus station.

Hawkers willing to contend with the busses in motion for a chance of their wares raking in some money, the oldies by the junction, diligently and patiently waiting for their customers, practicing their best manners with cheap gossips sprinkled over it.

The road workers were no exception and if hot sunny and dry weather was a thing to worry about, then their insatiable taste for sachet alcohol and concoctions fit for a last meal if a prisoner was on a death row, would have been questioned.

"Ilakwe, Oseni, Osheri!!!" barked Agu, a young, lean bald tattooed local with more veins popping from his head than was normal for someone his age. His costume was a cheap, torn, dirty, lifeless green singlet on a khaki camouflaged short.
In one hand was his signature rusted chain that begged earnestly retirement and in the other was a cigarette.

Agu was everything but unreliable, his manners sharpened by the streets over the years, He made the most of all the bus conductors and was widely respected and recognized by many including the road officers.

"Ila-Ose-Oshe!!!" he bawled, his voice rougher and tougher by the minute.

"Agu, Agu, what are you doing here, that new boy over there has loaded three trips already, what are you still doing?" The driver barked sharply.

His manners startled Agu for a moment, who had long played blind to his recent challenger, Jegede.

"Jega, again abhi?" He voiced angrily. He leaped off the bus and gave his best frown as he stormed through the traffic of bodies.

"Jega here, ila-Oshe-Ose, fine boy like mad come here, fine gal like mad come here!!" From afar, he could hear and see the wonders of this irrelevant pesky brat who had become increasingly a thorn on his flesh.

"Today, we will know who is who here!" Agu muttered in his lowest tone as H e reached a good enough parking spot and signaled his bus driver to take the spot.

That minute could have frozen hell for all it meant.

Both boys began a shouting spree so violently and loudly that they began to repel rather than attract more passengers and for the next half an hour, this was the ordeal and if any intending passenger decided to take one of the bus.

They were coerced, battered, shoved, pulled, pushed and roughed up.

It would be like this until an elderly woman walked into the set up.

She was dragged by birth contest in an invincible tug of war that was to last forever. Each pulled with strength and determination. Their pleas for the woman to join their respective busses felt more like a death threat as she begged for mercy to be set free.

"Madam, I say nah here or nowhere," one of them declared.

"Mama, nah here or heaven, choose one!" the other declared.

Her tears and pleas began to draw more people who wondered if they wanted the passenger or her hands.

It was Jegede 's bus driver who resulted to hopelessness first.

"I nor want again, watin you dey do self, I Don go leave you here," The driver pulled the reverse and quickly drove out.

Agu was about to nail the coffin with a flurry of mocks and teases before his too, disappeared into the traffic.

Somewhere in the higher plains inconceivable by man, a gong had been sounded and the town crier had called for blood - blood on the streets.

Agu walked brazenly to Jega, a hand held up, pointing at the challenger who met his aggressor half way.

You had better remove that carrot finger from my face before I nod you one. Jega threatened, his form very intimidating at best.

Agu took in his challenger, Jega was rather sturdy and muscular, he was ugly and with a distinctive torn ear. He had a nose ring and tattoos that lined up his neck and bare chest, no doubt, he was a fighter but so was he.

"Shey you don dey craze," Agu blasted sarcastically as the fight club crowd began to soar, the weather was perfect for one, even the traffic officials seemed excited at the prospects of this fight.

Some went further to begin betting and shell up support for their favorites.

" Kpah!!!" the thunderous slap must have forced an old woman and her wares into a nearby gutter prompting quick rescue.

Agu's slap wasn't well received, Jega stumbled back, his cheek, hard pinked by the print but Agu didn't expect the comeback.
Jega moved like a crazy bull almost immediately, his left fist burned the distance with deadly accuracy. and power.

Agu took the hit and staggered back, his cheek bone burned from the after effect of the hit.

Jega rushed forward, his right fist tightened and ready for delivery but Agu side stepped him, dropping a blow below the neck level of his attacker as they separated for a moment.

There was no doubt, the rumors were true, Jega was not an easy prey.

"Shey you Wan fight abhi, I go injure you today," Agu boasted defiantly.

Again he wondered the trigger of Jega, who came at him out of nowhere. He rushed out of the way like a matador but the deal was signed, Jega caught him, all the same.

Delivery a poweful fist to his right shoulder, that almost sent Agu to the ground.

Agu, leaped back, clearly, he would be beaten to pulp and he would have to give up the bus station as his zone but this he will do with bravery and courage.

He came at Jega, hands akimbo and delivered a flurry of one sided punches that Jega dodged professionally, he bidded his time and attempted a grab at Agu who leaped away.

His challenger followed exposing his upper chest and face, thank God for the bare body that faced him. Agu delivered one power loaded punch to the chest and moved away quickly.

Jega turned around and stopped as the punch's effect began to set in. He winced and spat something and gathered momentum quickly.

Like a steam roller, he plunged at Agu and ended up empty, he made a return and got blind sided by a kick to the head, thankfully it was not as powerful as he had imagined but this was surprising, the dwarf could use his legs it seemed.

Jega rolled back up and for the first time, he refused to run straight at Agu.

"oyah nah, come nah!" Agu urged as his fans cheered him on.

Jega approached cautiously, Agu rushed at him, perhaps it was the confidence that had suddenly grew out of nowhere, a self conscious belief that he could put up fight but something crazy enough to be applauded that made him do that. To Jega, who had been in more fight than necessary in his life, he knew that was a stupid move.

Jega delivered a soul crushing, spine breaking, heart stopping blow to jaw of Agu.

It was goodbye Saturday, goodbye to a properly functioning jaw and certainly goodbye to Ogocha bus stop for Agu.

He went face first to the ground without any further resistance.

THE FIGHT WAS OVER