There is a quota
It will be met one way or another
By you or another
This need must be met.
Said quota is a desire
Arguably a burning need
Disagree all you want
This need must be met.
It mostly sets the sexes askew
They become inept umpires
Regulating psychological needs
This need must be met.
The woman must talk
The man must have sex
Each at moments deemed ludicrous
This need must be met.
Bleak ice-blue walls thickening still
All frosty; naught moist nor turgid
So cold. So polite. Desolate…
I have left her
I should be with you
Yet we are bereft…
It should be you here
It was all for us
Pyrrhic this victory.
Bleak ice-blue walls thickening still
All frosty; naught moist nor turgid
So cold. So polite. Desolate…
Have you ever seen someone die?
Random stranger? A loved one?
I mean in real time, right before your eyes?
I saw my husband die.
It is not pleasant.
Especially when they die by a knife. The look… That realization that they are dying. The shock. The disbelief. The insecurities show in those final moments… Their lives laid bare for everyone discerning…
Oh, and the pain! He died via stabbing. I physically felt his pain. Good Lord! It was horrible!
I should feel no pity for him considering all the hurt he put me through. But, in retrospect, no one deserves to die like my husband did.
I am way ahead of myself…
Good morning. How are you doing today? Have you eaten? I hope your family is doing well? I do not know you, but I love you. Yes I do… These days my love is shed abroad.
So, my hubby.
I married him when I turned eighteen. He was always my friend. Strange fragmentation of words I know. Even Microsoft Word advices that I consider rephrasing… Nah… He was always my friend.
He was already an adult when I met him. He watched me grow. He was a family friend and a mentor. I told him everything! He provided counsel appropriately. He was my first. My best. And my life.
Was…
He was…
Was, because he started cheating on me. The signs were there, I did not see them until the very end.
He is very secretive. That enigmatic ‘introvert-ion’ started to reek of infidelity. I could not touch his mobile devices. I was constantly on eggshells around him. He seemed to be hiding everything all the time.
Luckily I had friends. Women who were older and wiser. Single moms, spinsters and fellow married women. Their advice was unanimous.
“He was up to no – good”
That revelation provoked me to the point of insanity. I loved this idiot! I had given him my virginity, my substantial inheritance and my heart. I had sacrificed everything I was, just to be with him.
Ene, my friend had a story like mine. In her case though, she had ‘arranged’ for her deviant husband to suffer a fatal misadventure. She had been his next-of-kin, and so she had full custody and control of his estate.
And so the seed was planted in my heart. Who was my husband’s side chic? Who was he sleeping with apart from me?
Unfortunately, he was a taciturn man. He never volunteered information. I was running mad with anxiety.
To further rub salt in my festering sores, I started to chance upon evidence. Some of my friends confessed that he had either propositioned them or had slept with close friends of theirs.
And in a blind rage, I contacted Ene.
Ene ‘fessed up and hinted that my husband had (at some point) behaved inappropriately toward her! She had been flummoxed until now she whispered sadly.
I was livid!
I immediately transferred the required amount of money to her and set the date for his painful death two weeks from that day. I confess that I tossed in an additional fifty grand for his painful demise.
Idiot!
He was home uncharacteristically early for his appointment with death. He was in a good mood. He must have made some money because he arrived with a large grilled salmon and expensive white wine. He was flirtatious throughout dinner and had even done an online bank transfer of a little under a million dollars in my favor ‘just because’.
Too much, too late.
I placed my hate on ‘simmer’ and fucked him senseless that night. He was snoring lightly when I got dressed an hour later.
At about 12:55 am, I opened the door at the back of our home and sure enough the door handle turned in confirmation. The door opened a fraction of an inch and stayed slightly ajar.
I returned to his side and must have fallen asleep.
I awoke to sounds I could not place. I jumped out of bed when I did not see my husband in it.
As I emerged out of the narrow corridor into our spacious living room, I witnessed the contract killer drive a long blade from behind my husband right through until the first three inches popped out of his torso.
This scene was pure coincidence. There was no set plan as to where or how my husband was to be murdered (at my behest).
However, therein lay the assassin’s dilemma I presume. I had seen his face.
As my husband crumpled lifelessly to the floor, the man’s eyes latched upon me.
In a flash he was upon me. I am not playing, from approximately three meters away, he suddenly had my throat in his left hand. Squeezing tight.
I was going to die too. I kept clawing at his face and iron-like forearms.
“But I paid you…! This was not the plan!!” I managed to get out repeatedly.
His brutish features were marred even more by bloodlust. He was hissing involuntarily. Specks of spit garnished his blackened lips. His breath was fetid. His eyes were out of focus and almost seemed ecstatic.
This sick, degenerate wanker loved to kill!
Our bodies are only a vessel. I started to step out into the ‘unknown’ when suddenly I was released. I fell to the cold marble tiles dragging air through a bruised trachea into tortured lungs.
I could only hope that the knife would make it quick…
But the pain never came.
I think I suffered a mild stroke when a hand touched my face. I went into a seizure when I saw my husband’s face.
Literally. The seizure I mean.
Was I dead like he was?
It is ancient history that my husband did not die.
He survived the assassination attempt and arose to drive the assassins own blade through his own temple.
And I am here living in hell…
You see with my husband you can never tell. Did he hear my conversation with the hired killer?
My husband is a bastard. I think that he did. He heard everything I said. And all else in between.
Then he decided not to die.
Then got up and killed our killer.
And then decided to keep his peace as usual.
Did not matter if I died in apprehension.
It has been a five years since. He has never broached the topic.
Not. Even. Once.
“Tan largo me lo fiáis”
(translated as “What a long term you are giving me!”)
List of Characters:-
1) Don Juan (The Black Version)
2) The Mother in law
3) The Wife
4) The Wife’s Sister
5) The Father In Law
Don Juan (The Black Version)
“Mankind is wicked; I am a man.”
The Mother In Law
Monique was not sure what it was about her son in law that she disliked. In truth, there was nothing obvious to dislike. He was wealthy. He was a good looking young man. He was charismatic and suave. His confidence oozed. He was a great speaker and was frequently on television seducing viewers with his eloquent delivery. Most importantly, he made her daughter happy.
But… There was something ‘dark’ about that boy, she thought. She did not trust him. His innocent, piercing eyes held yours always. No, this boy was ‘no good’. She could not put her finger on the issue, but her maternal instincts were never wrong.
The Wife
Celeste was in utopia! Her friends were green with envy and told her so always. She had snagged a major one. Don Juan was quite literally every woman’s dream. Tall, dark, handsome and rich. He was generous, likeable and good in bed. The sound of his voice always caused her ‘lips that could not speak’ to moisten. In urban parlance, she was dick-matized!
He was kind and gentle to her. He pretty much left her to her own devices. He always pampered and spoiled her rotten. They were so in love!
The Wife’s Sister
Uhmmm…maybe later. It’s too early in the story to feature this character. Please be patient.
The Father In Law
Derek was discombobulated. He was a rich man. A devoted father of two beautiful daughters and husband to one wife. He was a rich and powerful man. He was feared and respected. Many young men had unsuccessfully tried to marry his angels. Scallywags! Scoundrels! Gold diggers!
Not Don Juan though. The boy wanted nothing! He did not seem to want anything but to be part of his daughter’s life. He was respectful, thoughtful and handy. He always knew someone that could get anything done. Two years into the marriage with his daughter, and everything was picture – perfect. Celeste was a handful, just like him – her father. She was opinionated and stubborn. Proud and spoilt. But Don Juan was the perfect husband and son. Yes, the son he never had. The son he wished he had.
The Wife’s Sister
Oi! Again with the pressure?! We talked about this before…
Uhmmm…maybe later. It’s too early in the story to feature this character. Please be patient.
Don Juan (The Black Version)
“Whenever your woman becomes irascible. It may be seasonal or locked in her DNA. That my friend is the time to woo her, pamper her, make love to her… So she never suspects that you are banging another woman more agreeable.”
The Father In Law
Derek was paralyzed with fear. His ulcers seemed intent on killing him the next minute. His bowels were loose and he was perspiring profusely. How could this have happened? Monique, his wife had swooned again. The detectives had arrived to confirm their worst fears. His daughter, Celeste’s sister, had been kidnapped. The ransom was set at ten million dollars. The money was not the problem, but they all knew that his daughter would not return the same way again. Maimed perhaps. Raped whilst being videotaped, certainly. (for future extortion and leverage). Killed, fifty percent likely.
The country was a zoo!
Don Juan (The Black Version)
“Things happen, not always within a man’s control. What he may control is his reaction, and the inherent advantages every tragedy encapsulates.”
The Mother In Law
Monique was a nervous wreck. Her blood pressure was currently sky high. She was also currently the sole owner of the worst migraine this side of the Atlantic. She was in and out of consciousness. The sedatives the family doctor had given her were just enough to make her drowsy. Derek, her poor Derek was in and out of her bathroom so frequently that her massive bedroom now reeked of vomit and diarrhea.
Then she heard Don Juan on the phone. He was speaking in a strange patois she was vaguely familiar with. Broken English. Pidgin English. She did not know that he had it in him. His voice was now a sinister rasp. He was threatening somebody. He was giving an ultimatum. He was threatening retribution up to two generations. He was promising death. Painful death in such detail that as she listened on she broke out in vivid goosebumps. He was not Don Juan at the moment… This was a maniacal demon!
She did not think that he loved her family this much. Maybe she was wrong about him.
The Wife’s Sister
Oh for crying out loud! Is this your story?! I cannot work under these conditions! Not yet I said!
Uhmmm…maybe later. It’s too early in the story to feature this character. Please be patient.
The Wife
Celeste beamed widely at her parents as the Uber crept up the driveway of her parent’s house. There was another car driving behind the Uber. It was occupied by three men of the underworld. Her parents grinned weakly back. Their necks stretched in anticipation and apprehension at the approaching vehicles. As her sister stepped out of the car, her mother sank to her knees and wept in relief. Her father ran up and bodily lifted his lost but found daughter in a bear hug.
Celeste smiled proudly at her husband. Her man. The hero of the day. One phonecall was all it had taken. The three men had exited their vehicle too. They had spread out strategically. They were all armed with hand guns. They all wore masks that hid their faces. They were a jumpy, skitterish and shifty lot.
Her sister walked up to her and warmly embraced her. Then turned towards Don Juan and launched herself into his arms crying.
Don Juan was holding a small gym bag full of money. A token for the thugs that had delivered her sister. So he could not hold up her sister for more than a few seconds. He gently set her down but she clung to him like a USB in a manufacturers approved slot/port.
Her sister had a massive crush on her husband, it was an open secret. Most women did.
Just then, her drama queen of a mother (still on her knees) let out a blood curdling shriek. The ‘crazed’ mother snatched up a large ceramic calabash that adorned the small fountain in front of the house and arose. She charged at an unsuspecting Don Juan bringing the vessel viciously down towards his head.
The Wife’s Sister
Queen had been Don Juan’s lover for as long as he had been Celeste’s husband.
Don Juan had told her that he should have married her instead of Celeste. His wife was a misguided feminist. A rebel with no cause. A spoilt self centered brat.
Don Juan had promised to elope with her. They were in love.
His role in her rescue had caused her to abandon a bit of common sense and discretion. When she hugged him, she had naturally reached behind him to cup his taut, muscular buttocks. He responded by subtly, almost imperceptibly driving his hip into hers.
Just then her mother looked up and caught them. And then mother dearest simply ran mad.
A gunshot rang out.
The bullet went straight into her mother’s forehead killing her instantly. The perpetuators scurried into their car and zoomed off towards the gates.
And great was the pandemonium forthwith…
Don Juan (The Black Version)
“All that you know is all you have learned. All that you have learned is not all there is to know.”
THE END.
It is not in my place to ask him questions. I do not ask because I should not.
He recently contracted my chambers as his attorney for LIFE. As long as he is not breaking any law, I will keep my peace.
But we all know that he returned from Arinta Waterfalls a different man. He is suddenly wealthy. He is obviously richer. The change is not in his attitude, he is still as pleasant as ever. He is even more benevolent. But he is ‘more’ than what he was.
“Jojo… Please finalize the visas and payments for our trip to Mount Kilimanjaro? I will be leaving the country tomorrow, back the next day I think. I need to get the logistics from you. My pilot is refueling as we speak.”
As is now the norm, he has decided to sponsor The Backpackers’ next trip to Tanzania.
He is the only person alive that would dare call me any other name but Ms. Joanne. But he is ‘loco’ like that. In an endearing way though.
“I think we should use my plane, it’s only a ten seater though” He concluded.
“Who is that in this body? Loose him and let him go!” I quoted and joined him in nostalgic laughter.
If you know, you know.
We knew.
August 29, 2018
FOR AYDIN…
Arinta waterfalls was beautiful!
We arrived the falls after torrential rainfall. The height of the falls was nothing spectacular, but the water hurt when it hit our bodies. The waters were freezing and tempestuous.
Amaka (who disappointed me), Muchee, Goodness, L.P. (I still think the man is a serial killer 🤔😂), Iyke, Bayo and Toto all stripped to their bathing suits and braved the treacherous route to the falls and pose for pictures and get wet.
After watching them for a while, I caught the bug and eagerly joined in.
“Big Dan, hold that pose” Iyke shouted at me above the roar and melee.
I was not even ‘posing’ to begin with! I am not comfortable with pictures of me being taken. It is my eccentricity. I own that.
I was right underneath the torrents when he called out. I was imitating Amaka (who disappointed me).
Like her, I tried to spread my long arms like the statue of Jesus in Brazil when I lost my footing and fell over backwards.
I somehow presumed that my back would hit the wall of the rocks. Foolish assumption because there was zero visibility beyond the raging curtain of plummeting water.
And so you can imagine my terror when I kept falling, hit the ground hard and began tumbling.
I sat up in a cave. Dry. Banged up, but unhurt.
I could hear the thunderous falls behind me. The sound was slightly high up, and so I confirmed that I had fallen downward into this place.
I wish I could describe the cavern to you in detail. Alas, I cannot.
The cave was well lit and the air was fresh.
The floor was covered with fine sand. The sort of sand found on a beach.
The floor was also covered with bones of animals. At least I think that they were only bones of animals.
The cave was eerily quiet.
I did not hear it. I could not see anything even though the cave was well lit. But I needed no prophet to tell me that I was in the lair of a predator of some sort. A carnivore.
I eventually heard it. It is a sound I will never forget. That ominous hiss.
I felt my skin break out in goosebumps. I felt the hairs all over my body actually rise vertically. I remember thinking that I was in the presence of evil.
Maybe not evil in retrospect, but ancient powers that I did not understand.
Maybe not ‘powers’, but pure majick (yes majick, not the recent variation called magic).
The atmosphere cackled like static electricity. Time seemed infinite at the time. I was in a limbo, a trance-like state. Yet I was present in the present.
I heard the distinct sound of something heavy being dragged. The sound irritated my spirit sorely. It was a disturbing moment, like a countdown to an inevitable execution.
As the sound neared my seated form, the cave seemed to glow brighter. The sound was coming from before me. The closer it got, the brighter things became.
It got so bright that I had to shield my eyes from the glare.
From between slightly splayed fingers I finally glimpsed the entity…
It was the fattest and biggest snake I had ever seen in my life. NatGeoWild had never featured a snake so humongous!
It’s flickering tongue was easily two feet long. It’s head was about a square meter thick. It’s eyes were mesmerizing orbs about the size of saucers. It was impossible to take in the full size of the snake seated less than ten meters away.
And finally on top of its head gleamed the most beautiful diamond I had ever seen. The size bore verisimilitude to a grown man’s fist.
But please understand that it was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Diamond et al. That snake glowed! I found it very attractive.
At this point I was on my knees. It maintained the rough distance of ten meters. It’s forked tongue kept darting in and out of its massive head.
I wondered at time how deep the cave must be. I wondered at whether the prehistoric reptile was male or female. I remember concluding that this thing was sexless. It just was. There was not going to be another like it.
I felt no fear. But I sensed that my life was being weighed…
And so I did the only thing I could;
“Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one.“
The snake hissed long and hard in reply. It’s long tongue seemed to flicker quicker. Flitting in and out of its jaws in blinding speed.
Then it stopped. It stopped movement of any kind. It seemed to me that it also stopped the very essence of time in that instant.
It beheld my kneeling form with the longest of stares.
Then I stood up and replicated the pose that brought me here… Arms fully extended outward to the side… like that statue of Jesus in Brazil.
Then it bowed to me.
Yes. It showed obeisance to me.
As it bowed to me, the diamond on top of its head fell off and rolled over to me. It stopped inches away from my feet.
I stared long and hard at the entity before me before I stooped and picked up the precious stone. It was larger than I originally thought. It was heavy and beautiful. The stone throbbed in my hand. It pulsated so hard that I had to hold it with both hands.
Then I started to shiver. I felt energy… No, power surge through me. I felt invincible! I felt invigorated. I felt ancient abilities take root in my spirit…
And then I consciously decided to ‘own’ the energy… And I did. I imbibed the force and became one with it. Then I slowly stabilized into my new consciousness.
With both hands I offered the diamond back to the entity in faith and honesty… Maybe it had dropped it by mistake?
But the snake seemed to yawn. Each of it’s bared fangs were about a foot long. It’s jaws gaped so wide that I could almost see a meter into its essence…
Then it closed its mouth and slithered backwards a meter or so. I stepped forward and offered it again… But the snake seemed to yawn. Each of it’s bared fangs were about a foot long. It’s jaws gaped so wide that I could almost see a meter into its essence…
Then it closed its mouth and slithered backwards another meter or so…
A third time I attempted to return the diamond and again the same reluctance from the principality.
My swim shorts are made with patch pockets, military combat style. I secured the gem in the right flank pouch and velcro – sealed it.
As I climbed back up, it was still slithering backwards into the dark recesses of the cave.
I emerged through the water and joined the backpackers who were unenlightened as to what just happened.
Time may have stood still. I may have fallen into a black hole of sorts. I may have been in the cave for fifteen minutes real time. I cannot say for sure.
I have no intention of selling this diamond. It would seem that it attracts good fortune to me. All I do (or not do) works out for my good.
Everything I touch is profitable. I have an acute Midas touch now. A sort of MimShach anointing blesses all I am. I cannot stop prospering.
Conservatively speaking, I am worth trillions of dollars. And I am expanding my asset base exponentially whether I try or not.
I made no deals with the devil. I have not sold my soul or anyone else’s. I am never ill or tired. I regenerate daily… Testosterone levels have spiked within me. I am sure that if ever I managed to get myself injured I would heal instantly.
I write this for posterity. I want this kept for Aydin when he turns twenty one.
‘Chairman’, my son… DO NOT VISIT ARINTA WATERFALLS!
EVER!
At least the Indian guy had decorum. Raju or whatever my husband calls him.
The other one, Goody, or whatever her name is was just plain getting on my nerves!
They were both seated behind in my car. We were behind the Toyota Hiace bus #backpackersabuja had chartered to convey the rowdy bunch to some waterfall in Osun state, Nigeria.
Olumirin? Ile – Ijesa? Not sure what my husband called it.
He was handling my situation calmly. He had told me about this trip a month ago. I had intentionally waited until last night to insist that I would come. He had taken my ploy in stride. Only catch was that we were now driving behind the main team in my car. My husband insisted that we use my car!
Men are scum!
Lol… Kidding. But a girl has to be careful. All these trips our men make out of town… ‘Stay woke’ my lovelies.
It is not that I do not trust him (hehehehehe) I am just marking my territory.
The trip was arduous! These people were insane! My husband inclusive. It ended up being an eleven hour road trip!
My lovelies, I suffered!
We headed to the waterfall the next day. They were all hyped and amped. I gathered that the falls were about seven stories high and that there were seven waterfall views… Or something like that…
The waterfall itself was nice I suppose. If you are in to that sort of thing. It was raining quite badly when we got there.
Then these wildlings decided to climb up to the plateau of the hill and spend the night in tents at a village or hamlet up on the hill.
Father Lord, I mean no offense… But a lot of your children are ‘not well’. Yes Lord, I am referring especially to these Backpacker-people.
Why any rational individual would leave luxury and comfort and venture into the unknown to suffer is beyond me.
That was their problem though. There was no way I was climbing any thing today. Except my husband’s tumescence… Hehehehehe… If you know, you know.
And if I was not camping uphill, neither was my behemoth. (Yes he is my large animal).
So I whipped up a sly attitude and voila! My behemoth grumpily informed his fellow lunatics that I was feeling poorly and that we would have to return to camp.
They hated me. I could tell by their concerted effort at nonchalance. But I did not care, this was going to go my way.
Not quite!
My behemoth decided to hire a tour guide. The guide would take them up the hill and bring him back while the other hippies would remain at the summit overnight. I was deserted for about two hours; wet, cold and miserable.
Men are scum!
Lol… Kidding.
Long story short, we were eventually reunited about two hours later and taken to ‘the best’ hotel in the area. It was not a bad place. I was was impressed. It is hard to impress me.
My behemoth impressed me too. Between passive aggressiveness, thinly veiled anger at my antics and whatever he had been drinking… My lord and king here on earth unleashed such pleasure on me that I blacked out from coital bliss, pain and fatigue.
I awoke to loud banging on the door of our hotel room.
I think I wet myself instantly. Judging from the time and the audacity of the ruckus outside I knew that they were thieves.
Have you ever been mugged? Robbed at gunpoint? Abused in any way whilst being robbed? Has it ever happened to you in a third world country?
Imagine all that… And then place yourself in my predicament, a full – bodied woman naked in bed with her husband? I did not need a psychic to tell me that my fate was about to be changed negatively that night.
With tears in my eyes and urine trickling down my thighs I acknowledged that I had brought this problem upon myself. Me and my insecurities! It would be a miracle if I escaped rape and /or death.
My behemoth was calm. He is always calm actually. He was already dressed in a blood red pair of basketball shorts. He was firmly tucking my limbs into my wet cut-off jeans shorts and hoodie.
Just then the door, it’s lintel and fittings came crashing to the floor with a loud bang. And the thieves were inside the small hotel room.
One of them was pointing a pistol at us. I remember screaming from behind my husband when another thief shot his gun into the Plaster of Paris ceiling of the room. Another was brandishing a very shiny cutlass.
“Get on your knees!”
“Lie down flat!”
“You dey craze?!”
The intimidation and yelling came in a deluge. Even though my lord and king here on earth was shielding me with his body, I knew that we were in big trouble.
I felt faith drain from my heart when my husband sank heavily to his knees and started sobbing like a baby.
I felt my jaw drop down to my ample bust. Just then one of the robbers found the light switch and there he was… My behemoth… On his knees, crying.
Big Dan?!
On his knees crying?!
You do not understand… This dude is ‘six five’ two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. He has bullet scars and knife wounds. We have been married for ten years and he does not talk about his past. He never has. His reputation around town is rock solid. Nobody talks about him openly and it is not because they love him. There is something dark and mysterious about my husband.
His subservience and bawling shocked all four thieves into eerie silence.
The room was not a large one. The big bed took up most of the space. It was a tight fit for all six of us. I should say seven though. My husband’s shoulder is easily as wide as two peoples’.
I was not only distressed but increasingly worried about my husband’s meltdown. The scoundrels emboldened by his submissiveness had now started pistol whipping and slapping his lovely head with open palms.
Emasculating him. Taunting him.
“This your woman go sweet to fuck o!”
My world stood still. My life started to flash before my eyes.
I felt fresh urine exit my bladder without recourse to my will.
All four men were openly ogling me at this point. Two were on either side of my useless husband whilst the other two were shoulder – to – shoulder in front of him.
Till this day, I can not recall the faces of these men. Terror had me looking without sight.
All their eyes were on me, undressing me… I remember how my skin crawled at the thought of what was going to happen to me. I remember starting to shiver uncontrollably. I remember hearing my teeth chatter on their own volition.
“Take off your clothes!”
“Remove all ya dress! Prostitute!!”
“Your ear don block? You no wan obey? I go slap you o!”
I joined my husband and began mindlessly wailing.
The hoodlums roared in maniacal laughter.
I was too terrified to notice anything.
The four thieves may have been high, drunk, high and drunk or just distracted…
My lord and king here on earth suddenly moved like a blur… I heard ‘whooshes’ that all ended with loud thuds.
I kept blinking trying to clear my eyes until one of the robbers fell upon me. I remember screaming and clawing at his face. His weight pushed me back to the wall behind but then he keeled off me oddly and fell to the floor.
I glanced around in confusion and saw another one of them drop lifelessly to his left on the bed. A crimson stain immediately began spreading wider and wider on the white sheets.
I looked up to see the third man clutch his heart. Blood was seeping through his fingers. He was staring blankly at me. He crumpled in a heap and did not move again.
My protector. My warrior. My lover and my husband.
My lord and king here on this earth was somehow behind the fourth man and with a blur of his hand, a geyser of blood erupted from the man’s suddenly slit throat. He went down seemingly trying to claw his sliced open throat back together. His throat was emitting a rattling and gurgly rasp as he bled out in a seizure on the floor.
My lord and king here on this earth was actually the last man standing… He was covered in blood and he had a bloody stilleto in his right hand. He never travels without that weapon. I know it.
He beautifully sculpted body was heaving heavily. His jaw was tense. He was glancing wildly about in a crouch. He looked so Neanderthal…so dangerous… Beautiful danger.
The whole room now reeked of raw eggs and something slightly metallic. My lord and king here on this earth later explained that it was the smell of blood.
No my lovelies. I did not, neither will I ever ask my wild animal how he knows the smell of blood… Are you out of your mind?! This wildling just killed four armed robbers in the blink of my eye!!
Please. Ask. Him. Yourself.
Thank you.
Then my behemoth painstakingly went through the pockets of all the dead and dying men and robbed them. He took all the money he found on them and in the getaway car outside.
He must have gathered a little over a million Naira.
No my lovelies. I did not, neither will I ever ask my wild animal why he fleeced dead and dying criminals of their hard-earned bounties… Are you out of your mind?! This wildling just killed four armed robbers in the blink of my eye!!
Please. Ask. Him. Yourself.
Thank you.
