TWO

Hello,

Beautiful people and yes you are beautiful, no matter what they say. So, I stumbled across an unfinished story that needed to be completed a few weeks ago while I was doing my regular thenakedconvos.com jacking and here it is. The fun part is that you can also get involved and I beseech y’all to do so, just check out the link and get acquainted with the guidelines. The prizes might not be awesome but the competition is fun.

The part in bold lettering was written by the guys at thenakedconvos while the normal lettering’s are written by me. ENJOY

Now

Aigbe smiled callously as he watched Esosa tumble backwards onto the floor. He thought to himself that she quite looked like a fish out of water – flailing about, reaching for support that would not be forthcoming. His smile very quickly evolved into a cruel laugh as he watched the back of her head crash onto the cold, tiled floor with a sickening, wet sound. Leaping astride her semi-conscious body, he rained three solid blows onto her torso, working his way from her lower ribcage to her sternum. She yelped, shook and choked with each blow, unable to fight back.

“You are the one that will die, not me, Stupid Harlot!”

He spat into her face as the last blow landed and she choked violently, jerking with the impact of the blow and recoiling from the glob of projectile spittle that had hit her face.

“You!  Are! A! Mad! Dirty! Prostitute!”

Each word was punctuated by a slap that sent waves of pain coursing through Esosa’s head. She could barely speak or shout or scream in protest, much less move. She felt herself start to slip into a numb blackness but she tried to hold on.  Aigbe wrapped his hands around her neck and muttered.

“Witch! Harlot! Your plan has failed!”

Esosa closed her eyes and let the numbing darkness take her as her husband choked the remaining life from her, his wedding ring pressing against her carotid artery.

2 hours earlier

Esosa smiled to herself as she poured the brown powder into the bottle of Merlot. She re-corked it and shook it violently until the powder began to dissolve. She knew Aigbe was already on his way home.

She reminisced about the time before her marriage; had she been in love with a man or had she been in lust with the man’s good looks and money. Aigbe was rich, his career was promising and there was no doubt there, no wonder her mother pushed her into the marriage. Despite beauty being her moniker, Esosa was very serious with her academics back in Unilag and she had no time for men or other trivial things. Her only goal was to please her mother and she did that by being the housewife to the first rich man who knocked on her door despite her summa cum laude in political science.

‘Should love be expressed in kind before it is felt by the beloved? Love is above a feeling, it is a manifestation’

Esosa opened the lid of the dustbin and threw the paper away; the sun rays that were able to penetrate the kitchen window glorified the paper as it made its descent into rubbish. Her mother had said it was medicine for love, as potent as a thousand of Cupid’s arrow. All she needed to do was share the same contents of the bottle with her husband and they would both be united in an unquenchable thirst of their love, it was best for her, best for her mother’s exorbitant spending. Only if she knew how much Aigbe loved her but then again it was just a feeling he hardly manifested.

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

‘All things done in clandestine should remain in the dark but when amateurs strive for perfection in secrecy, the sun blurts out the truth.’

Meanwhile, Chidera the voluptuous house help watched on from the outside window of the kitchen as Esosa gingerly poured out the brown powder into the wine. She wasn’t surprised; she had anticipated this day like the Jews anticipate the coming of their Messiah but Chidera never thought she would bear witness to it. Nothing would have aroused her suspicion if not for Esosa’s unprofessional ways in concealing the truth. For a deceiver, she knew nothing about deception.

Esosa returned that day from her mother’s after running away, afraid to face her husband for her sins. Despite her inability to cook delicious meals, she decided to make her husband’s favorite dish. She sent Chidera on a futile errand that even a 5-year-old would consider suspicious and she locked the doors, denying passage into the kitchen.

For some reason: maybe the devil perhaps, Chidera decided to spy on Esosa and she saw the perpetuating evil unfold before her through the kitchen window that managed to conceal Chidera’s form. She made a mental note to pick the paper from the dustbin and to inform Aigbe before he came in. Maybe it would finally be her turn to be a rich man’s wife. That was her goal and no wonder she walks around the house scantily clad whenever Esosa is not at home, possibly an attempt to seduce Aigbe.

2 days earlier

Esosa overheard Chidera talking to Aigbe on the phone. He was returning back to the country and he needed the driver to pick him at the airport by 2p.m. She confirmed what she overheard from Chidera’s conversation and her heart literally changed position to her esophagus as she was too afraid to face her husband after her last atrocious act. “He must still be madly angry at me, after all, why wouldn’t he inform me of his arrival,” she thought. She made haste to pack her things and move to her mother’s house before Aigbe’s arrival. She couldn’t stand up to him, so she left a long note of apology promising to be a better wife if he forgives her.

Esosa returned to her mother; there she got the necessary moral support to be strong and brave but as far as being a good wife goes, she knew nothing. Esosa never knew the truth behind her father’s death but Aigbe knew it all after a drunken lecherous night with her mother before the wedding. He thought it best not to ruin Esosa’s relationship with her mother by telling her.

2 weeks earlier

Aigbe set out for the airport straight from his office. He was to be in South Africa as soon as possible but as fate would have it, he forgot his passport. He hurried back home to get his passport but to his utmost surprise he saw his wife in bed with Yemi: his boss’s wife. The sight killed him and he literally collapsed but remained sentient.  He sat up and tucked his legs under him, still befuddled and overwhelmed by what he understood to be grotesque. Yemi was swift to flee while Esosa tried to apologize. Aigbe rewarded her apology with 2 vicious slaps; got up, got his passport, and walked out of the house without demanding an explanation. That was the first time he struck his wife.

2 months earlier

Aigbe and Esosa were both on a weekend holiday in Singapore but he brought work along. On a Sunday afternoon when all was calm and Esosa was asleep, Aigbe perused through Esosa’s phone out of boredom and he came across some lasciviously worded messages from Yemi. He initially decided to keep it to himself but then his curiosity got in the way. He asked her if she was cheating but she denied it blatantly until he brought up the messages and asked who Yemi was. Seeing as she was at a dead-end, she used the guise that Yemi was his boss’s wife and the messages were just a joke since he was hardly around to talk.

He flared up in a bout of anger asking if she wanted to end his career, he soon calmed down and hoped his boss would be lenient if he got to know. He couldn’t entertain the idea that his wife was a homosexual so he finally took the messages as the comical play Esosa said they were and promised to be a better husband.  Later on, Aigbe engaged in an orgasmic night for himself; Esosa just pretended to moan along.

2 years earlier

Esosa had just gotten married to Aigbe after a year of dating. They were on a 2 weeks honey moon trip sponsored by Aigbe’s boss who also tagged along with his wife. That was the first time Esosa laid eyes on Yemi, she was astonishingly beautiful and she looked misplaced in the hands of the pot-bellied tiny framed boss that looked like roasted frog on a stick. It wouldn’t take a trained eye to know she was more or less the trophy wife, if not even the contract wife.

The both of them had instantly bonded and Esosa spent a greater part of her honey moon with Yemi. It wasn’t long before Yemi laid her lips on Esosa’s and then introduced her tongue to other parts of Esosa’s body. She was initially hesitant but then how can you hate magic, she had never felt such pleasures and so she gave into infidelity with a woman. Fortunately for Yemi, she was in an open marriage and she was free to do as she pleased as far as nothing was in the media but Esosa never knew this; she continually allowed herself to be filled with sinful lust. Her end 2 years from now.

Dreamland.

 

 

Do imaginary friends really exist?

“Mummy, mummy!”

Dupe whined in a voice tainted with excitement. She tugged vehemently on her mother’s blouse as her mother sliced onions in the kitchen. Dupe was a child that sought attention rarely but when she sought it she ensured she got it.

“Mummy, what is pornography?”

Sade put the knife through the onions with so much vigor that the blade ricocheted off the kitchen sink and unto where are hands lay; missing her flesh by a few millimeters.

“Why are you asking?” she blurted out

“Jide told me to ask you, he would have told me but he said it’s a mother’s job to explain such things.”

“Jide is just in your imagination, young children like you have imaginary friends.” Sade would always say to her daughter with a worried mien and voice masked under a more condescending mien and voice. There was no single evidence to support Jide’s existence.

A week ago Dupe asked her mother what sex meant, she claimed it was Jide that told her to ask but Sade thought it to be a ruse. Sade remembered the first time she asked her mother the same question and her mother had scolded her accusing her of being immoral, she was 12 years old then and she only needed to know the meaning of sex to fill a medical questionnaire. “Times have changed,” she chuckled a bit before she added “sex means a person’s gender.” Three days later Dupe told her mother a much more surreal explanation of sex that Sade didn’t get to know until she was in the university. Her head literally spun. “Where are you getting all these things from?” She shouted at the top of her voice. She had suddenly become infuriated with a deep anger, a ton load of anger she had hidden under a thin sheet of happiness.

“Answer me! I said answer me!” Dupe began to cry as her mother’s grip on her arms tightened.

“Jide told me.” She shook her some more, “don’t lie to me and tell me the truth, I am not joking with you.”

The tears began to flow on both their faces, “I am not lying ma, I swear it was Jide that told me.” Her grip loosened and at the very first opportunity, Dupe ran off to her room to go find solace in Jide, she knew he would be there, he mostly came visiting around that hour.

Sade remained confused and stayed in a place beyond reality for a moment, trying to take in all the details of what happened in recent times, her mind was literally a diorama of strings that didn’t connect. She initially used to take the news of her daughters imaginary friend with cheer, the idea was somewhat absurd and funny, her daughter was part of the few things that made her happy. All the American and European story books and cartoons Dupe had made her plight easier; it was quite understandable for her to boast of an imaginary friend, it was her way of getting through. Dupe hardly made friends as a matter of fact she didn’t have any. She stayed indoors most of the time and when Sade checked the browser history of the computer, there was nothing to confirm her suspicion. Asides switching on a computer her daughter didn’t know much more than what they taught her in her computer class which was pretty much or less how to type. She resolved to go see Dupe’s school headmaster and confront him with the happenings; maybe Dupe had made some bad friends. She could not come to the terms that her 10 year old daughter might need psychic evaluation as a friend suggested. A friend that became a fiend for her sincere opinion.

She had no decent answer for what porn meant and she didn’t need her daughter knowing what it meant talk less of watching it so she said, “I don’t know what it means and what your mother doesn’t know, you don’t need to know. Remember that and tell Jide what I said.” She gave a wry smile as she said Jide. Two days later Dupe approached her mother with all glee and sat beside her as she was going through some documents. “Mummy, Jide says it’s a bad thing to be ignorant, it can kill so he showed me a video yesterday.” Sade paid rapt attention, “there was a naked man and woman and he put his penis inside her mouth and vagina, she called it a lolly…..” Sade stopped her midway; she receded into her shell and said in a voice of a woman on a lost course, “Go and pack your things. You will stay with your grandmother tomorrow.”

That night Jide made his last appearance. He laid behind Dupe on her bed, felt her still burgeoning breasts viciously, and whispered “I am going to take you to dreamland” before he let his phallus burst her hymen.

Writer’s note: A great deal of the story has been left to your imagination. Is Jide real or not? Share your views in the comment box

 

Premonition

Hello, welcome back to DAY 5 OF POST-A-DAY-AS-LONG-AS-I-HAVE-INTERNET.

@weird_oo will be gracing us today with her talent. I read a story about a winchy!! house help she wrote after the story ended, music started playing on my system from nowhere couldn’t even find the source……  That’s weird oh, I tell you. I had to shut down the computer……. True story not a cool one at all…….. Here’s today’s story, ENJOY.

He would wake up with no memories of the night before.

What is he doing in this strange apartment? And most especially, why is there a dead naked woman sleeping next to him on the bed?

How does he know she is dead?

There is a smiley on her throat. A dark red smiley that says ‘Hey! I just had my throat cut!’

He would yelp in surprise and jump out of bed. He would look down at himself and see blood stains on the blue jeans and blue collared shirt. He would look around and see a knife anointed with blood lying carelessly on the floor. He would assume the worst.

He would assume he was the killer.

He is a killer.

With shock he would look for the rest room in the house. He would wash off the spots of dried blood on his hands. He would try cleaning the splotches of black blood off his jeans with no effect. He would give up and go back to the bedroom. Taking care to avoid looking at the bed’s occupant, he would rummage through the wardrobe for anything to change into. Seeing the abundance of female clothing, he would assume the apartment belongs to the deceased. He would find a pair of mens’ jeans carefully tucked into one of the compartments. Probably belonging to a boyfriend. He would panic at the thought of someone coming in to find him there. He would find a shirt to complement the jeans and would promptly change.

He would pack his ruined clothes into a black polyethylene bag he stumbles on and stuff it into a suitcase he would get from the wardrobe. He would pick up the weapon and toss it into the bag. He would go round the house looking for something; anything that would connect him to the murder. He would find his bunch of keys down at the kitchen table and put them in his pocket.

He would find his shoes at a corner and slide his feet in. He would then go back to the bedroom to continue his foray. He would notice a bedside picture of the deceased on the bedroom floor and he will gaze at the beautiful pale skinned redhead who is far from being the same woman on the bed. Death has been so unkind. He would open the drawer and bringing out a sheet, he would gingerly sidle to the bed and cover up the body of the woman on the bed. Using the sheet, he would shield her unseeing eyes rolled up in…surprise? Ecstasy? He would wonder for a second if they had sex and would look around for used condoms. Finding none, he would assume they did not and would let out a sigh of relief.

He would find his wallet wedged between the bedpost and the wall. He would gingerly bring it out but would fail to notice something.

He would check to make sure it’s his. It is his picture on the ID Card smiling up at him. He would nod in satisfaction, pocketing his London Metropolitan Police ID.

He is a killer and a police officer.

He would leave the house with the suitcase containing his ruined clothes in tow.

He would forget something important wedged between the bedpost and the wall.

The smiling face on his driver’s licence which would be his own undoing.

He would leave the house of murder to dispose the suitcase at a dump site. He would go home to his wife and three kids, claiming to have been busy at the station.

He would try to put the incident off his mind; pretend.

He would be arrested within 48 hours.

He would claim innocence. After all, you cannot be guilty of a crime you do not remember committing can you?

How do I know this?

I know.

How can I foretell the future?

Because it would happen just as I have planned it.

My name is Rage.

Look, they’re coming!

Having an argument; The police officer and the pale skinned redhead woman.

Who knows…

Maybe I’d be wrong.

Fat chance.

THE END.

Make sure to pay homage to the writer at the phantom pages. Be back here tomorrow by 4 p.m for another exciting read.

P.S: DO NOT FORGET TO SUBSCRIBE

CARNAGE (part 3)

Hey, welcome back to DAY 4 OF POST-A-DAY-AS-LONG-AS-LONG-AS-I-HAVE-INTERNET.

Yep, I must apologize for not bringing you part 3 yesterday but my work is greatly dependent on internet and the wi-fi 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. ENJOY

As at the time Nwanne was 17, there was not a single thing about herself that Ada didn’t know. She had even told Ada about her inhibited adeptness in magic. At first Ada would withdraw from her and censure her for hiding such a big thing from her but she soon came to understand why she kept it a secret and she let the feeling of betrayal go. They made up and went back to being lovers.

Although it had been 4 years since the gory incidence, Nwanne’s plot for vengeance never evaded her mind, with each passing morning she looked forward to the day that she would finally have the head of the warlord; Jaja in her hands. She shared her plans with Ada and to her amazement, Ada accepted her part. Nwanne had grown to become a much better warrior than Ada, infact she was a tough competition for the men in that settlement, they revered her for her dexterity in using all form of weapons.

The duo embarked on their journey, each fully prepared for her part. Nwanne had infested Ada with her mania for spilt blood and as they went along, whatever seemed like a threat or was too innocent and timid to retaliate, they slit it open, it was a ritual they partook in everyday. It took them 6 months for them to gather enough information about Jaja’s camp and the men that lived there. Several of the people they had met for information, mostly men, warned them to not attempt whatever it was that they had planned whether vengeance or just a mere excursion. All the people who had ever tried such met their maker at the entrance of the camp besides they were women but they both blatantly denied ever having any plot of vengeance after all, it was ridiculous for 2 women to take down a whole camp of men.

They had paid through their teeth, to get the needed information. They had found out that the camp that once hosted 2000 of the world’s most fearsome and vile men was now occupied by roughly a thousand people, the remaining men had gone to settle in some of the villages that they had spared the women and children while they killed the men, the camp’s food supply had come from such villages. Some of them started a settlement of their own from the ruins of former villages. Ada and Nwanne would later find out that they had obliterated one of the small villages that contained Jaja’s men and the supposedly spared women and children. The men that lived in the camp were divided into 3 groups: swordsmen, archers and other artilleries. The heads of these 3 groups; Ikeme, Obiwon and Kwelu were Jaja’s right hand men; they were all second in command to the throne. They were the only ones allowed into the council of Jaja. Enimity existed between the three groups because Jaja was retired and any of the group heads could have been favored for the throne.

First off, they cut off the food supply to the camp, all they had to do was to set fire to a few of the remaining villages and they slaughtered the remaining people alive, although they had assistance from men that Ada had enchanted. She was an enchantress, she didn’t just have the body, she had the talk and flair. After that part was concluded, the next agenda was what Nwanne needed Ada for; to infiltrate their camp but how?

There was a settlement 5km away from the camp and it contained harlots and all sort of gypsies, the swords men mostly went there to relax. Ada was going to enter as a newbie harlot, she would then charm her way through the swordsmen and hopefully Ikeme would notice her and he did, he carried her back to his place and she teased him some more before she let him have his way with her.

She soon came to make permanent resident on the camp and at the same time she became the most sought after whore on the camp but she would secretly pledge her loyalty and her body to each of the 3 heads; Ikeme, Obiwon and kwelu, and they knew not that she cheated on them, they were all fools to this beauty. She would on occasion descend to the lower ranks, tease them and lay with them. All of this was done in secret but eventually and as expected, the secret will be out and all hell will break lose. Ada and Nwanne had anticipated the magnitude of the disaster in the camp but no one not even the duo knew how it was going to happen.

Ada had sneaked into Kwelu’s shelter as she did on every 4^th and 5^th night of the week. They both had a splendid night and by morning she lay at the center of the camp, cold, still, lifeless and brainless. Her brain though outside her body, it was still connected by a nerve to her insides. Her blood trailed from Kwellu’s shelter. No one could phantom what happened not even Kwellu who had woken up to another hard erection ready for full penetration. Immediately all secrets let loose. Her death sparked a huge frenzy. The 3 heads felt the betrayal deep within their groins, not the betrayal from Ada, the betrayal that they committed against each other. The tension between them was palpable and the slightest provocation would send the camp into a cauldron of unprecedented chaos. All the men had themselves heavily guarded, anticipating the worst.

Jaja heard of what happened, he wasn’t so surprised; he understood that men were pigs but he never thought his men to be foolish and since he never came out of his shelter, he never knew the apparent disaster that was soon to befall the camp.

Nwanne noticed an eerie difference in the camp that morning but she waited for Ada to rendezvous with her as she did every morning for the past 1 month and reconvey information back to her. That morning the duo planned to reconnoiter the camp. Ada didn’t show up at all and so Nwanne sneaked into the camp as a harlot. She found Ada’s body just at the front of the camp entrance, with a gaping hole in her head. Even in death, she still looked beautiful. Nwanne could not contain her emotions; rage, hopelessness, sympathy, heartbreak, betrayal and a host of other emotions painted her face in an ugly mural. Carnage got into her and with her bare hands and nothing more than a stone, she killed the 7 men that stood at the entrance; 4 of Kwellu’s men and 3 of Obiwon’s men. Her singular act of carnage started a war in the camp.

Nwanne returned back to the settlement with Ada’s body and told everyone what had happened. She gathered the best warriors in the settlement, 15 in all and on the way they gathered 15 extra people. As at the time they got there a fight had begun, it was as if their gods had caused confusion in the camp of the enemy. The group of 30 stormed the camp when the fight was almost quenched. Ada headed straight for Jaja’s shelter but first she had to wrestle his body guards, 2 of them, they stood at the entrance of the shelter. They seemed to be a competition taking into account their sturdy build. She eventually maneuvered them and slit their throats but not after she accidentally received a wound under her armpit. It made her feel weak but she kept on pressing.

Finally, she was one on one with Jaja. An event she had anticipated her entire teenage years. He still had it in him but his hand had grown weak, she would have had him in no time if not for the wound she suffered from, she felt light-headed but still pressed on. Their weapons flailed, they showed quick maneuverings, they mured each other, they talked about the evils they had done, he came to understand her bitterness and she came to understand his thirst for power. They both suffered from a carnage mania but one was for power the other for love.

She eventually had the last strike as she wittily locked his proficient arm in a tight embrace against her sides, her back was to him and his weapon in her front, she jabbed him with her elbows and he compromised his weapon, he let it slip out of his hands as he fell to his knees. In a quick turn she gave him an uppercut that made him a tad unconscious. She mounted him on a chair and waited for him to gain consciousness and then she tortured him, cutting his fingers, tongue and manhood. Before he passed out, she carried her sword to slice his throat but then it hit her, what better way to honor her beloved than for Jaja to die the same death. She picked up his weapon; the hammer from where it lay and dashed his fore head with so much strength that brain matter came spewing out the back.

Blood from her armpit trickled down even faster now and she had a hunch of uncertainty but still she pressed. She cut his head, went outside and stood on a tree stub, she raised his head high and stuttered in a loud voice

“V-V-VICTO………” the remaining syllable lost to life, she dropped; cold and lifeless.

THE END.

This is the concluding end of the story, I hope you liked it. Make sure to air your views in the comment box, criticisms will be highly appreciated (don’t be shy) even if it’s just an inconsistency in the story.

Be back tomorrow for another exciting read by @weird_00 of the phantom pages. and please subscribe.

Carnage (part 2)

Hey, welcome to DAY 3 OF POST-A-DAY-AS-LONG-AS-I-HAVE-INTERNET.

This is the continuation of yesterday’s story, if you didn’t read part 1, endeavor to read it here . Enjoy

With nowhere to go, she embarked on a journey of no return. On the first day, she travelled as far as her feet could carry her, finally coming to rest at twilight and she made room for herself under the pear tree that fed her that night. At the break of dawn, the loud chirping of bird and the half rays of sunlight that penetrated through the lustrous vegetation cover caused her to twist and turn until she finally bumped her head against the thick fibrous roots of the tree. She woke up to a hunger that tied the inside of her intestines in knots, she was in dire need of food and there was none. Alas it occurred to her that she could make feast of the pretty creatures above her that hummed and chirped, she drew out her father’s sword from under the earth (she covered it with sand before she slept) and tried to aim one of the juicy birds, the sword missed and the bird didn’t even flinch, she made a second attempt, this time round, the wood splintered and many of the birds flew away. She considered her decision unwise and decided to try her first magic spell unsupervised. She had tried the spells on small creatures before but she had failed to charm them.

Her mother had told her

“only the desperate cast the best spells and you are still a beginner”

and then she had asked her mother “are you desperate”

and her mother replied

“I’m a seasoned sorceress, I don’t need desperation, I only need to will it, if you can will it, you can charm it”

Those were the two things that she needed to catch her prey and with a bout of desperation and a heart that burnt with will, she had not even uttered as much as a word when a juicy fat bird descended into her palms. She was a natural, her sorceress skills were going to be incredible. And for the first time she was going to slice the throat of a creature with red blood, she made a fire and ate her prize. From that moment onwards Nwanne never looked back and her mad love for the red liquid gushing out of slit veins and arteries became unquenched.

After she had recuperated enough strength, she moved on from where she had rested and with each passing night, she embraced the wild outside. On the 4^th day of Nwanne’s little adventure, she happened upon the first human she had seen since the horror in her village. It was a girl, much more beautiful than her and don’t doubt that Nwanne was very beautiful herself. The girl appeared to be a bit older with her front chest being much more pronounced and admirable, she also took into notice the considerable height difference. Nwanne guarded herself with the best shield her magic could produce, she laid her sword under a tree and waited until the girl at the stream was through having her bath and was about wearing her cloth. Out of nowhere Nwanne popped up on this beauty that looked like something out of the copulation of lesbian angels. Ada as Nwanne would finally get to know her as was startled but within a few moments the bond was instant, it was almost as if Ada had been charmed. Nwanne narrated her entire story to Ada, Ada felt recompense for her and told her that her own story was not so much different, she was also 13 when the evil warlord raided her village. She brought Nwanne under her roof and introduced her to the settlement she lived in. Apparently everybody in the settlement had a bone to pick with Jaja, they nurtured one another in the art of weaponry and fighting. Nwanne never revealed that she knew how to cast magic spells besides it was an inceptive gift, both her parents had it but none of her brothers did. With time Nwanne was fuelled with an intense passion to kill Jaja but this passion was rivaled by her love and lust for Ada.

Ada had been Nwanne’s pillar, she helped her understand herself and her urges, she taught her new things, she was a mother, friend and sister to Jaja, occasionally Ada kissed her on the lips and it sparked all sort of colors in her head. As the years passed she chased away every potential suitor that came to be satisfied in a corporal lewdness with her or Ada. Many times she lay in the nude expecting Ada to take note of her body and be entranced just the same way she was enthralled by Ada’s. Nwanne stayed awake long after Ada had slept just to lust after her. Ada, though fair had a full extension of black hair that matched the scenic view of moonless aurora nights, it draped down well below her neck and it never tangled. The moonlight that crept over every surface it could it could cast its gaze on heralded the ampleness and solidarity of her 2 breasts. Her beautiful facial features were not left out in the magnificent gamut of light as they glow, each feature boasting its own pride. As I said; she looked like something that came forth from the lesbian coitus of angels. As she took into detail every part of this beauty, Nwanne could not deal with the cravings and urges, she would then eventually please herself in the only way that could subdue the violent rush in her to turn this fair beauty around and have a lascivious night with her.

Eventually Ada would notice that which Nwanne had hoped she would all the time they had spent together. Nwanne was 16 at the time and very much a woman. Ada, 2 years older than Nwanne came home on a-cloudy-dark-about-to-rain-night. For reasons she could not properly elaborate on and neither did Nwanne understand the circumstances, Ada cried deeply and painfully. Maybe it was all a front. But Nwanne provided the needed comfort and attention, uttering words that filled one with a sincere passion for something ungodly. Soon Ada would kiss Nwanne on the lips and then recoil her head to apologize for the act but Nwanne was quick to return the favor in a much more deeper, sensual and passionate act. Neither Ada nor Nwanne would break the kiss, Nwanne then took the bold step to slide her hands through the hems of Ada’s garment and caress the undulating parts of Ada’s figure. Ada didn’t seem to mind and she let whatever it may that was to happen that night happen. They both found themselves in a unity and oneness that explains and defines the in-depth nature and boundaries of love, each delivering an inexplicable ecstasy to the other. They went on for hours with moans of willful joy and an inextinguishable energy. They rocked each other’s world. That night; they were consummated in their love.

TO BE CONTINUED…………..

Come back tomorrow for another exciting story.

Carnage.

DAY 2 OF POST-EVERYDAY-AS-LONG-AS-I-HAVE-INTERNET.

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.

Frustration with a gleam of joy.

DAY 1.

*coughs*

It’s truely been a long while since I opened my blog, although there is no dust here. I wonder why bloggers will be like there’s a load of dust on their blog when they haven’t blogged in a while (THEIR PALAVER, I guess).

Let me inform you that i would be starting A-POST-A-DAY-AS-LONG-AS-I-HAVE-INTERNET-CHALLENGE. Hopefully it should be for 30 days, so let me enjoin you to subscribe and visit this blog everyday, hopefully all the days will be …….. Enjoy today’s post, i wrote it in frustration.

You think you are normal but you are not. You throw tantrums all over the place, you wreck havoc and cause chaos. Yes, we are smiling now because you are cute but then you make our hearts sad with the way you behave. It’s appalling to see one of your favorite people in the world continually botch and it is even worse when you can do hardly anything to right the wrong. I am not a saint so I won’t throw stones at you, besides I was once in your size but then time passes, grace makes you see the next day, food makes you bigger, mistakes and lessons make you smarter but I am definitely not meant to spare the rod on that troublesome ass of yours but I find myself to feeble to inflict real tears of pain on you. I won’t lie tho’ when you cry because you are hurting after falling and bruising your knees from one of your very dangerous plays that I cannot overemphasize the many times I have told you to stop, a sort of mischievous smile crosses the face of my heart, a compensation for the troubles you put me through each day.

It seems like the food you eat is too much, so much that you expend the extra energy making my life miserable throughout the day, atimes I hesitate feeding you in the morning, maybe if you were starved throughout the day you would sit down in one place and be calm, you will grow a bit of sense and not gyrate round the whole living room while shouting and raking everything in your path. For once maybe you would act like me and be gentle. Peace is all I crave, peace begat more love, I want to love rather than loathe.

You continually sap my energy each day, you make me wonder what sort of creature will make me regret once being in your size, you make me rethink the past and apologize to my caretakers for the things I did that really got them pissed. I wonder if I were just like you or you are just a rare case of mental retardation with your near to deluded facial contortions and ever deafened ears that can’t tell the difference between ‘go and come’ but it sure can listen to those brightly colored and far from human freak shows on tv. I am not angry at you in any respect, as I stated earlier you are one of my favorite people in this world. I will surely take a bullet for you, and I don’t expect you to return the favor back atleast not in your size.

You make me laugh and wonder so much that my head hurts from the excitement you give me. Your cheerful plays and innocent lies bemuse me, your carefree imitations and frequent stuttering cracks me up, your frivolity and altricial nature makes me envious, envious because my own prime in being inconsequentially thoughtless is past and I didn’t get to exploit it. Just as sometimes I don’t want to grow up because I am afraid of the responsibilities, worries, challenges, sacrifices and the other balderdash the future may bring that makes one lose his purity and the firmness and the beauty of his skin to time, I wish you wouldn’t grow up either because then you would realize that there is a whole lot more to life than just to play without pray, you would become tainted and that innocent look in your eyes will ever more be covered in red guilt.

You will see beautiful images and have a perverted perception, you will hear straight sentences but have a lewd understanding of what was spoken, you will be judged, loved, liked and loathed. You will be heartbroken and cry but this time  round your crying would cause you to change and be resolute. But just chill and relax, let time and all of its complexities continually bump you in the head, that’s how I learnt, that’s how my elders learnt, that’s how breathing creatures learn and grow stronger. I shouldn’t be telling you all these. No pressures.

Remember you are just a child, it doesn’t make you mentally impaired, it only makes me envious.

MY FIRST PING.

DAY 7 OF 10 DAY CHALLENGE.

First of all, I want to apologize for not being consistent with this challenge, I gave a crappy post on Saturday that was not properly edited, it still reeks of gbagauns despite the length. I refused to blog on Sunday because man must rest and go to church. Go to church I didn’t, and yesterday I refused to release a post because I was just too damn lazy plus the light bulb did not appear on top of my head and even till now the light bulb ain’t there and I am typing at a very ungodly hour. They say nothing good happens after 2am. I just hope this post proves that statement wrong

Also let me warn that this post might be gbagaun prone and it may distract you from the main idea of the post. Bear with me, I am only human, a human who has refused to sleep. I think that should do for the disclaimer.

Finally I want to take time to address my haters. Those that are constantly high on haterade, constantly sending me pings and dm’s on how crappy my posts are. Now singing turn my swag on, Keri Hilson version

*If you be hating just be mad at yourself,

I bet you think this post is about you,

don’t you, yeah, but it ain’t about you………………………

if you ain’t getting money then you got nothing for me

’cause I will be making paper like you wouldn’t believe

and I will be skinning haters like you wouldn’t believe

so what’s up? *

ok, that one sef don do. Most of my haters are my hommies tho. They definitely love me, what’s not to love.

And for those who doubt my talent, I brought you this,

This will go down as one of my favorite tweets.

Ok, to today’s post. I am sure with all the preamble from above, you will be expecting something awesome. I will be sorry to disappoint you at the end, it’s 2 am in the morning and I am still awake. The sand man is trying his best to put me to sleep………….. oh, my friend just told me some of you guys think I am talking about Sandman from the marvel comic. Nah, I am talking about that small dude that puts the whole world to sleep, he is somewhat like a tooth fairy…. If you still don’t know who I am talking about then I am sorry for your childhood. That’s enough babble. Now for today’s post. Hmmmmm. Where to start from.

Let me warn that the contents of this post may (emphasis on may) contain real scenes from my true life experience nevertheless the story is purely fictional and highly exaggerated. I will be the narrator. The post you about to read is meant for your amusement, so the truth has been greatly altered. Just so you know, this is the second time I will be writing such. ENJOY.

I slotted in my atm card into the atm for the third time that morning. The five digit number well above the needed amount stared at me and my feelings were elevated. I mentally tried to calculate the last time I had a black berry phone in my hand and how the opportunity got snatched away from me along with my itouch by a hoodlum wielding nothing more than a knife. Embarrassing right! It was painful and the ridicule was even worse (you can read up on the story here. I have refused to edit the story despite the numerous errors. It was the incident that propelled me to start blogging.)

I smiled to the ceiling wondering who my first contact would be, how I would so much pimp out my black berry, I could go on forever with the thoughts but I believe you get the drift. I brought out the Nokia torch-light phone in my pocket and made my last call with it

“mummy, I am going to buy a new phone”

“yemi don’t go alone ooh, you are still a kid.” I got annoyed and hung up.

I formed a mental image of all the black berry phones in my head, even the Porsche one, but it drove away as fast as it drove in. My options were down to a bold 2, bold 4 and  a torch. Long story short , I got a cab down to the place, entered slot and bought a bold 4. I still don’t know why I didn’t go to the slot at ikeja mall. The prices are the same, I think. Now for the real story.

Feeling all wiser than the last time I was here, I decided to enter the very gangster side of computer village just to get a phone jacket that I could have bought in slot. I put the newly bought phone in a black water proof…. Hehehe, I just like saying water proof. I took my time, gently striding and contemplating if my decision was sensible. Of course it was sensible especially to a foolhardy like me. All courage but no good sense.  I approached a shop that had more weapons in it than gadgets, more well-built men around it than sales personnel and they all seemed to have the same smell and their eye color was no different. I braced myself up, muttering I am smarter than before and I am no one’s maga, then I entered the shop. I spoke all the dialects I could, from English to Yoruba to pidgin. I asked to see his phone jackets and I was required to bring out the phone to see the one that best fits. He asked me new phone and I said yes. He volunteered to help me pimp out my phone and he told me in a very unclear way that each file he was going to add to my phone costs #200. I initially refused but then I thought the whole stuff was just #200. I gave him the go ahead and he did a few things on his laptop and my phone.

He gave me an app that was meant to prevent people from stealing the phone. Basically it was nothing more than an app for locking a phone and it had an alarm. That was all. I handed him a #200 bill and he was like what is this. I was amazed by his response. He said my fee was #10,000. I was startled, how is that possible, he then replied

“I said #200 per file and there are 50 files under this app.” I began to speak in Yoruba again

“Iru rubbish wo ni ele bayii, mo ro pe #200 ni e so. Oya, yoo kini yii lati fone mii.” (what sort of rubbish, delete it from my phone.)

“Ko le se yo, o gbodo san owo yen.” (it cannot be removed, you have to pay the money.)

We debated the issue some more and I began to panic, he offered to give me a storm 2 for the phone as I did not have the money to pay. After all no be ping the both of them they ping. I was furious and began to utter curses on him in pidgin, just then 2 huge shadows were casted by my side and the sun light was blurted out. One of the guys asked

“Lanre, se ko si any wahala.” (Lanre is there any problem) The look in my eyes was begging Lanre to dismiss them. I was not ready to get beaten.

“Omo yii ni.” (it is this child) I stopped him before he could say more.

“Baba, ni bi storm 2 yen wa. E ma je ka waste anymore time.” (where is the storm 2, don’t let us waste anymore time.)

He brought out a dusty looking thing from under the table and gave me, I could not care if the phone was working, all I knew was that I wanted out. He was nice enough to throw in a phone jacket with the phone. I think I said thank you. I hurried back home to see if the phone was working and it worked. I have refused to tell anyone the truth of what went down till now. It’s just plain stupid to be maga’d twice. It feels so not good to have confessed this. END.

Oh and my first ping, forget about it, there are more important things to worry about like Boko Haram, GEJ, girls getting pregnant and me going back to school.

If you believe this, please shoot yourself. This post is totally fictional but you are at liberty to believe whatever makes you sleep at night but still shoot yourself if you believe this.

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TRUE STORY.

DAY 6 OF 10 DAY CHALLENGE.

I placed my hand under my pillow to get my phone, it was just 2:45 a.m and my sister’s cackle had woken me for the fifth consecutive time this week. I hardly got a good night rest because of her. There were 2 extra bedrooms in the house but dad still made me stay with her and he made us share the same bed. Listening to her talk was agonizing, worst off is listening to her talk dirty to her boyfriend over the phone, saying obscene words my 14-year-old ears should not hear, not that I  haven’t heard or used the words before. Common I am 14 years and I attend a boarding school. I know sitting beside a girl won’t get her pregnant, kissing a girl won’t get her pregnant cause I have done that and I know for sure that wearing a condom before sex won’t get a girl pregnant but that I haven’t tested that.

I scream out loud “Enitan would you just shut up, I will soon be back in school, let me enjoy my remaining days at home.” She kicks me and tells me to shut it. It’s so annoying that I can’t beat her. I can handle her, I am fairly big in size and she is petite even though her age says otherwise. I pull out the second pillow from under her teddy and use it to cover my left ear while I place my right ear on my pillow. I tried thinking of something pleasant that would put me back to sleep but her incessant laughter kept on interfering with my perfect reverie. My mind drifted off to the event that happened between my sister and her so-called boyfriend of one month that claims he loves her and she says she loves him also. I still wonder how a 20-year-old could be so daft.

It was about 3 weeks ago that my dad came back home to find one of the notorious locals dry humping my sister, my dad was livid about it but he didn’t show so much fuss, he only made it clear that he didn’t want to see his daughter with the boy again. “He is useless, a good for nothing, a bad seed and if you are not careful the evil in him will seep into this family insidiously.” That’s all he said after he pursued the boy away. He laid more of the blame on me than he did on her, asking me questions and yelling at me. I understood why he did so.

It wasn’t up to a week later that I came in with dad and met this same useless boy, pants down, deep throating my sister. They didn’t even have the common courtesy to be more discreet about it. Thank God she still had her pant on, seeing as her skirt had come off, I was not so sure if they had done it that time but as no one was sweating and the condom was still in the pack on the floor, I could only assume that my sister’s virginity was saved by the bell. The church bell my father forgot to carry along. A coincidence I suppose. He was a new member of a church that believed in bells as an effective means of communicating with God. I still don’t get why he changed church, I think he is looking for a church were prayers are answered, this was the 4^th time he was changing church in the last 2 years. My mum would always say “stay in your church and exercise patience, one day the lord will answer your prayers.” My dad believed otherwise. Mum was a strong Anglican.

The glass door had been wheeled back and the curtain was the only thing separating us from an experience I would never forget. Dad drew back the curtain and quickly pushed me back with all stealth, still maintaining is stealth poise he walked quickly to land a hard slap on the boys back. He was still deep in my sister and from the sound he made “yay, oko mi ooh” it seemed like my sister had accidentally bitten him before he fled. I stood at the door and watched the whole thing unfold. The boy was quick to pick up his trouser and escape but not after dad had landed several punches and kicks on him. I was surprised he didn’t fall as he tripped over the leg I had set in place for him as he fled out of the house semi-nude. It was hilarious. Dad was furious, he sent me up to my room but instead I hid behind the wall and listened. He said all that needed to be said and I agreed with him, nodding my head gently behind the wall.

My phone buzzed under my pillow, I picked it up only after looking at the caller id, I wanted to make sure it wasn’t that new girl in class that allowed me caress her, I didn’t want to give her the impression that I liked her, she was only a means to a thirsty end. I put the phone to my ears, “hello daddy, what is it.” He replied “tell your sister to keep quiet, I can hear her laughing from across the corridor. Tell her if she doesn’t keep quiet I will come over there and collect the teddy.” I tell her exactly what dad said, she cuts the phone and withdraws into herself clutching  her teddy like it was hope. I feel a sudden eerie chill in the room like my mum’s ghost was in the room.

Mum’s death was hard on both dad and Enitan. To me it was one of those things that was meant to happen, I didn’t grieve more than was needed, not that I didn’t love her, she was my favorite person in the world but her absence didn’t mean so much to me. Maybe it’s because I have always been autonomous. Although I miss her sometimes.

Mum was Enitan’s person, she was her best friend. Everyday Enitan would run home from school just to tell mum how her day went. She was top of her class and exhumed every quality a mother would want in a child. She was practically in love with mother. On the fateful day of my mother’s demise, Enitan had a heated argument with my mother in the kitchen and stormed out of the kitchen angrily. Shortly after mum experienced bouts of epileptic shock, in the process she bit off her tongue and swallowed it. It was not the convulsion that killed her, she choked to her death on her tongue and bled out from her mouth, a terrible death I presume, dad would not even let us tell the circumstances in which she died. Enitan heard the sound in the kitchen but she refused to go and see what was happening. I was the one that found mum’s still body under a pool of blood. The autopsy result revealed she had a malignant brain tumor, so either way she would still have ended up dead, the church beleives it was the attack of the devil. I believe the test results of modern medicine, dad believes the church’s theory and Enitan strongly believes it’s her fault and she can’t seem to get over it. Her teddy is the only thread connecting her with reality, the teddy once belonged to mum.

We have taken Enitan to different psychiatrists but there has been no improvement, it has been 2 years since the event and dad is desperate for help. I always have to watch after Enitan when I am on break and that is why we share the same bed and room. I am thinking of dropping out of boarding school to take better care of her, I can always attend one of the local day schools. Her life is a complete sham and she lacks every bit of common sense, she can’t differentiate left from right, her mood swings are terrible and she constantly has nightmares. She has quit school and no longer has an iota of hope. She has attempted suicide twice but dad foiled the attempts. Her useless boyfriend is just taking advantage of her and it annoys me to pieces, sometimes I wish I could slap her out of her misery and into reality but her brain is already toasted. I pity my dad to, he has to bear all the brunt.

I hear Enitan sobbing, I stand up from my corner on the bed and whisper calming words into her ears, I pat her on the back until she falls asleep. My name is Rotimi Samuel Ifesowapo and I am my elder sister’s keeper.

This story was not meant for your amusement. It is meant for you to provide help. TRUE STORY.

VSNLP- VIEWERS DISCRETION IS ADVICED.

DAY 5 OF 10 DAY CHALLENGE.

Today’s post contains scenes of violence, sex, nudity, language and prejudice. If you are human, 18+ or under, you would not be able to read this post. There is a new software that will detect if you fall into this category, believe it or not, the software exists. Enjoy the read and if you can’t read the post. Skip to the end. Ciao.