The cold air caressed Nwanne’s bodacious bosom as she flailed her weaponry of destruction forged from the bones of men and combined with a special alloy for increased strength and on the edge shattering. She hit whatever came up in her front, men, women, children and animals alike. She had an avidness for carnage since the demise of her family at the  hands of the warlord; Jaja. She felt pleasure and ecstasy but it could not be said where she derived it from; whether it was from the cold air, grazing her fair slender body and filling her orifices (she never wore much) or maybe it was from the blood she now spilt without recompense and at the end of her rampage she would drain the lifeless bodies of their blood and empty it into a bath. She would then wash up in the blood and please herself alongside. Once upon a time, this would have never been or even have been heard of; that there is a female psychotic killer with a thirst for carnage on the loose.

Nwanne owes her plight to Jaja. He has long retired from his despicable ways but he never thought that many would come after him because he made sure to cease the breath of every creature capable of vengeance whenever he went on his own rampage. Some people seek revenge but they possess not the repertoire of a warrior, so they place bounties as huge as a sack full of gold on the warlord’s head. Nwanne was one of those few that had carefully plotted their revenge but as it’s almost impossible to kill a warlord of such magnanimous reputation that precedes that of the gods, many that tried failed woefully. Her plan was simple but difficult, she was going to bring disloyalty to his apparatchiks which will in turn cause an unprecedented amok with so much magnitude that it will be strong enough to break up his cabal but to do that she would have to infiltrate the cult that contained a cesspool of the worst men alive, this was no easy task and the time frame was not one she was willing to be patient with. Nwanne’s deluded self could hardly quench the thirst for blood, she resolved into taking actions rather than making plans, long-term plans. She lacked patience so she slit the throat of anything that contained red blood to ease herself out of the frustration. She had a deep penchant to kill, a mad mania for spilt blood.

On a cold night with no cloud cover, the full moon shone like it were the sun, lighting the dark huts of each family, creating funny shadows of people, coloring the landscape in its majestic beauty. The people of Umo were a day away from their full moon festival, they believed the full moon to be a bode of their peace. They were once a perturbed village, always ready to wage war against those who dared to trespass or make them feel the least bit of threat. Their men and sorcerers had become slack, and lost their abilities. Tomorrow was going to be the fifth year since anybody had a cause to cast a spell or wield a sword. They lived in peace and it was going to be that way. The village children gathered round the camp fire and listened to their elders tell tales, some played games on the ground nearby, the elderly men of the village ate kola under the trees, played drafts and talked about a time when the peace they now enjoyed could never have been dreamt. Unknown to them danger was imminent. The nubile girls in the village pranced around the environs making gossip with their friends while eagerly waiting and expecting a man that is courageous enough to walk up and snatch them from the clique of wanton gossip.

Nwanne’s 3 elder brothers had stayed home with their parents. Her mother was formerly a sorceress and her father was one of the village’s best warriors. Her parents had thought their children their art and the children were very much copacetic with black magic and swordsmanship. They had never once had an opportunity to practice what they learnt but that night they fought to their deaths. The intruders came in when sleep had befallen the village, they torched the huts and slaughtered the few defenseless people who remained outside. It wasn’t long before the remaining villagers became aware of the heinous acts taking place. Those who could fought and those who couldn’t still fought and tagging along in that class of those who couldn’t were children. Nwanne was 13 at that time but her mother insisted that she shouldn’t come out to fight but her persistence was annoying so her mother cast her into the beautiful realms of sleep and covered her with a supernatural shield that protected Nwanne from fire and the eyes of the enemy. The next morning Nwanne woke up to find the village in ruins, she was the only survivor. After hours of a Sisyphean search she found the head of her father on a stake a few 100 meters outside the village, she cried out all the fluid in her before taking her father’s sword that had been dutifully laid before his head. She rummaged the village for anything that could be of good use to her before she left there for good. She cursed the gods her village worshipped and although the intruders had not burnt down the village’s shrine, she personally torched it herself.

To be continued……………..

Come back tomorrow for another exciting post, don’t forget to subscribe.


11 Responses to “Carnage.”

  1. Day 2!!!!!!!!

  2. weird_oo Says:

    Interesting. Haven’t read First part yet. I will

  3. Okay…this is ma 1st time of opening your blog(cos u forced me)…but I’m mighty glad I did…this is wonderful…like I told u b4,I might eventually stop writing because I am not even close to being this good…this is wonderful…I wud love to spend a day in your head to see how it works

  4. Johnson baba, didn’t much but *thumbs up*

  5. Anonymous Says:

    Nice one…way better than day1

  6. Nice one…way better than day1

  7. Ehn, oya let me b on d second part already…… U jes dey use words shake our head…..

  8. It’s rily nyc

  9. […] went down yesterday. I hope you are enjoying the series and if you are just joining us, pls read part 1 and part 2 . Any gbagaun you see is of the devil….. truth. […]

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