Category: Weird

Day 13-Scream

Hey guys…
Umm… Think we’ll be having a poem from me. Well, dunno if it’s a poem but kinda dictates my mood now. Something i wrote some time in October.


Scream for the past!
Widen your eyes in dismay.
Throw yourself with vexation for the broken promises.
Tear at the hard earth with your nails for the betrayals.
One after another, they came didn’t they?

Scream for the present!
Tear your clothes!
Gouge your skin raw with your nails.
Scream and shriek!
Scream for the burdens of today.
Let your eyes know tears for the suffering.
Dig your nails into your scalp and pull hard.
Scream in pain as your pull out clumps of hair attached to skin.
Let the blood run down your face.
Roll your naked self on cobbled stones.
Feel the bite of pain that nibbles in places where hard abrasion occurs.
Let your blood surly the stone earth.

Scream for the future!
Scream for the monsters, the vultures.
Scream for the hopelessness.
The hungry nights, the stolen bread.
Scream for the jailed bird, the jaded bird.
Prod your fingers into your eyes and scream.
Scream as you pull your eyeballs out of their sockets.

Let your eyes know darkness.
Cry blood!
Arch your back and scream!
Crawl on the floor!
Mewl and growl!

I’ll scream if i wasn’t too tired. Lol.
See you later. Have a lovely day.

Day 1 – 666 Park Avenue

Another December, another 31 Days Challenge!
I’ll be putting something up every single day; tales, rants, exposés.
Decided to start this month with this story by a regular writer on P. Pages.
Dionysus is here!

666 Park Avenue

What will you give to get what you want in this life? What will you sacrifice to receive what it is you crave? Your hearts desire, Your longing? What will you do to fill that void inside of you? That deep vortex of nothingness spiraling within you, weaving its webs to entwine you in a world where getting what you want leads to the absence of wanting it? We hear stuff like selling your soul to the devil but are we to take it literally? I mean is there a real contract where someone could actually sign and lose their soul?
“Good Morning Sir. Welcome to 666 park avenue. How can I help you?”
 “Hello, erm… can I get a room please, I’m only staying for the weekend.”
 “Sure, just a minute.. Here you go sir, room 1407.. These men there will help you with your luggage”
666 Park Avenue was like no other Hotel. I would call it a 6 star hotel if there was such a word. Built by billionaire Russian oil mogul Sir Avanus Kavchenko, He aimed at creating a hotel made solely for the elite of society.
The name was no coincidence either.
Take the licentiousness of sin city (Vegas), multiply it by a 100 and 666 park avenue was what you got. His aim was to create a haven where the wealthy people of society came to indulge in whatever sick twisted fantasy they had. A place where they could actually use their money to get what it is they wanted rather than more materialistic crap to fill the void. Poor people usually cannot comprehend the sick twisted thoughts of the rich but believe me, if a wealthy man is jerking off to toad porn, he is justified. He has reached a point where he can’t feel anything anymore and the everyday life of humans has become very strange and unstimulating to him.
As they helped Jack with his luggage, he saw two smoking hot girls at the reception making out completely naked. He had seen them before on TV. They were Supermodels. They caught him staring and they both turned to look at him with smiles on their faces before they continued their make out session. As he was making his way to the elevator, he heard the sound of an animal coming from a room. As he peaked through the door, he saw a pig bound, its arms and legs tied with ropes stretching from the four ends of the room leaving it suspended in mid air. He also saw a man fucking the pig hard from behind causing it to ‘oink’ in agony. He looked into another room and saw an old woman probably in her 60’s giving fellatio to a boy that looked not older than 8 years. Jack finally reached the elevator and as he stood there with the two hefty men by his side carrying his luggage, his mind went back to the grotesque images he just saw. The elevator door closed.
“So what goes on around here?”
“What doesn’t?” The two men laughed
Jack had heard about 666 park avenue from friends. He was a young man in his early 20’s working at Wall Street. He wasn’t freaky but let’s face it, every one of us have sick twisted fantasies that play in our minds every now and then. He decided to go to 666 park avenue to see what really goes on in there, probably indulge in a fantasy of his.
As the elevator reached his floor, he could smell something pungent coming from a room. Fumes came from underneath the door and from the smell, he could tell it was a narcotic; crack, probably heroin or cocaine freebased.
“Guess who’s in that room?”
“Pastor Nolan!”
Everyone knew Pastor Nolan. He had a very big church, his congregation was huge and he had sermons broadcast on TV every Sunday.
“Wow! that’s crazy…”
“Crazy? You ain’t seen nothing yet… Here you are Sir”
“Thanks, and call me Jack”…
“Sure Jack”
As he entered the room, it was as if he traveled back in time. The room was like something from the 16th Century. The artwork was vintage, so was the furniture. There was something very gothic about the room, as if a vampire once lived there. As he entered the bedroom, he saw a very beautiful girl lying naked on the bed. She looked like a mix of Egyptian and American blood . Her skin was glowing bronze like she had a tan, long black hair covering her shoulder blades and brushing her dark perky nipples.
“Come to me baby”
Jack couldn’t help himself.
This isn’t some movie where the hero sees a hot chick naked on the bed and doesn’t fuck her. Nope it Isn’t that scene where the hero passes up free pussy just to save the day.
In reality, the day don’t need to be saved….
Jack’s boner was tugging at his trouser and he quickly took off all his clothes and dived into bed with the goddess he saw in front of him. Her smell was like sunshine and fresh gardens. Her moans made him forget every thought in his head. The touch of her flesh was so soothing and rubbery to his palms that they went over every part of her body caressing and groping. He felt so warm inside of her, the air Conditioning cooling their skins while he thrusted deep into her.
“Madeline, what goes on around here in the creeeepy 666 park avenue?”
“Anything you want baby”
“Anything is kinda nothing.. Give me an example”
She brought out a spliff from the drawer near the bed and lit it…
“What I’m saying babe is if you have the right amount of cash, you could watch Rihanna get fucked by a horse right in front of you while you jerk off”
“Haha! that’s extreme, it don’t sound possible… Gimme that”
He took a drag from the reefer
“What if I want to pee in Beyonce’s mouth?”
“That can be arranged”…
“What of Jay-Z?”
“You want him too?”
“What I’m saying is that if by some weird way he found out, won’t he be pissed?”
“There are things you don’t understand about this world dear, many things”
“Do tell, enlighten me, as it is right now, I am not leaving this room till tomorrow plus this your pot is top quality.. Where did you get it from?”
“They get it from Afghanistan. If you want some, I could get for you at the lobby”
“Nah, Later Madeline, right now, open my mind to the things which I do not understand about this world.. The many many many many things”
“L.O.L.  it ain’t a joke.. I’m serious”
“The long and short of it is that anyone you see on TV or in a magazine or you hear on radio or see in the newspaper all belong to a secret society. The owner of this hotel is a top ranking member of that society”
“The Illuminati?”
“No dear, all that Illuminati stuff is what they use to distract people from the truth”
“What truth?”
“This secret society has one aim and one aim only. To make more money. How do they do this? Turn on your Television, everything you hear and see is tailored to get you to spend your money. EVERYTHING! The party life, drinking, fucking, clubbing all day, shallow thrills are what they tell you to chase on TV. They make it seem cool to do these things but its all an illusion. Their aim is for you to spend your money. You chase that shallow life so you’re forever in a state of getting what you don’t want so you keep buying and buying and buying trying to fill the void”
“Hmmmm.. Makes a little sense. What of the Rihanna bestiality, how does that work?”
“As long as you appear in the media, the people in this secret society are free to use you for whatever they please. Yeah you see celebs with the glitz and the glamour and you’d be like ‘I want to be like them’ but honey, thats a deathwish. If Tom Cruise was needed to eat someone’s faeces, it can be arranged by this secret society. It’s in their contract. This society is free to use them for whatever they please and in return they’d give them fame, recognition and a small piece of the wealth. They are like puppeteers. Anyone right from the politicians to the president to the actors to the musicians to the pastors to the terrorists… anyone you see in the media all belong to this secret society”
“Yeah.. There are many rich folks underground who prefer to stay incognito. These folks don’t give to charity so they have excess cash floating around. If they consult the secret society, they can make all their fantasies come true with the right amount of money. Even celeb deaths are preplanned. A customer might decide he wants to kill a celebrity for kicks. If he pays, they allow him to do whatever he pleases with the celebrity. The agreement in the contract states that he must kill the celeb when he is done. When you hear of the death of a celebrity on the news, the story is fake and scripted. The celeb died at the hands of a rich customer in some secret chamber probably weeks before you heard it on the news.. Tupac, Aaliyah, Lisa Left eye Lopes, Biggie, Heath Ledger, MJ, They all died in the chamber and how the media told us they died is a sham”
“This is a lot to process.. Its either you’re really stoned or you’re making a lot of sense”
“Both! I’m telling you the truth. I’m not supposed to but I don’t know why I feel the need to tell you…”
“So how much will it take for me to sodomize Beyonce?”
“That’ll be around $200 million”
“For a night?”
“That expensive?”
“Dude a particular guy paid close to that amount for Kim Kardashian 3 times .. God knows what he did with her”
“You surprised? Of all the girls, are you surprised Kim is part of the society.. You seen her sextape? That was some gay Korean dude who paid the secret society cause he wanted to see RayJ’s cock. When the other members of the society saw the tape, Kim was immediately noticed for her fat ass. They paid good money for her. She’s one of those girls who has taken it in all holes and I’m not just talking about the ones she uses to ‘pee’ and ‘poo’
“Hahaha! SHit… Fucking hilarious! I think I’m gonna pass out from this herb though.. It’s gonna be a fun day tomorrow… Goodnight.
He woke up and she was gone. There was a note on the pillow where she slept.
“Follow the Yellow Brick Road”
Jack woke up refreshed on a Saturday morning, ready to explore what 666 park avenue had in store for him. Not wasting any time, he got up and began his journey….
Trivia – The title 666 park avenue is from a recent TV series that got scraped from ABC


Tomorrow, No idea what will come up! Lol.
Just a general consensus. What would you like me to talk about?
Give me your ideas in the Comment section and ifit’s wacky/sensible enough, I’ll do it and credit the post of the day to you!

Have a lovely day!

*Schedules post.*

The Conflagration of St Lucifer

Ah Dionysus is here again with his controversial controversy pieces.




Shackled from the head to the feet,
No longer would he envision the street.
Punished solely for being sincere,
St Lucifer rages with a fiery stare.
Music was his gift and he would play no more;
His fingers all severed, fallen to the floor.
Art was his passion and he would see no more;
Both his eyes plucked, bleeding at its core.
Knowledge was his treasure to adorn,
Black nails did they hammer into his brain, they called horns.
Pure pleasure was his only desire,
Intense pain was what he got from his sire.
Adventure was his to inspire,
his spine pulled out of his back forever made a crawler.
Serpent became his symbolic form.
The most beautiful of all angels he was, before the deform.
Metal did they heat in the fire,
Searing the flesh with no respite.
After he had been tortured and burnt red,
‘DEVIL’ was what they labelled on his forehead.
Books did they write about his notoriety,
Where pure creativity was labelled sorcery.
He made a promise before drawing his last breath,
That he would capture the souls of all living on the earth.
‘HELL’ they called his kingdom of knowledge for Ignorance is Bliss.
Heaven is a place where man need not resist.
Art, music and literature is his gift to the world.
He is the unappreciated hero of every boy and girl.
Something was wrong and that’s why He came again.
Creativity and pain go together like Water and Rain.
Tee Hee! 😀

It’s 04:24am and I am struggling to make sure this story rocks for you guys.
I do not believe in Halloween. That is because on Phantom Pages, EVERYDAY IS FRIGGING HALLOWEEN!
This is my third and final Poe rewrite. It also happens to be my favourite because it is my favourite Poe story.
I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Dig in, zombies!


When you hear a statement like ‘I heard a voice from my past’, you mostly expect to hear the tale of a vengeful ex-lover.
In my case, I heard the voice of an old school friend back in my Kings College days. My shock and somewhat reserved pleasure of hearing from him again was obvious.
“How did you get my number?” I had asked politely and listening to the voice recount the tale, while I rummaged through the deep pockets of my memory, fuzzy as they are, to remember what my caller looked like.
All I could recall was a hazy face of a chum with whom I played pranks and sometimes has dinner with. We had seen a few times after our college days and slowly, we grew apart.
“I need your help Demilade…”
That snapped me back to the conversation right then.
I paused.
“My help?” I echoed, wary.
When a voice from the past calls you, asking for your help, you know there’s trouble and trouble is one thing I have had enough of.
“Yes, your help” he replied. “Can you please come over to my house? It would be easier to explain.”
I remember my silence at this. I was mute for so long, he said several “Hello?”s just to make sure I was still on the line.
A better part of me had been ready to cut the phone and switch it off for the rest of the day. A little part of me, curious little part of me, was intrigued.
I against better judgement, I decided to satisfy my curiosity. What harm could it do?
“I don’t know…” I began and his pleas began anew.
It’s important.
It’s a matter of life and death.
I had later given him no assurances of my coming, seeing was I was in a different state, but I remember telling him to text me his address.
For old time’s sake; that was the phrase in my head.
Weeks after that call, I was back in Abuja. I had forgotten totally about my proclaimed friend.
It was on a bored stroll that I remembered him and the address and quickly, I went through my directory to get it.
I contemplated on calling, but decided to visit instead. Past 6pm it was but I felt that wasn’t too late to pay anyone a visit. I didn’t plan on staying too long after all and he did say it was a matter of life and death.
That, was how I found myself, driving to No. 56 Mississippi Street, Maitama.

I must say, the envy bug took a huge chunk off me as I parked outside a gate, the number 56 beautifully decorated on the side of the wall. Even from without, I could view the large house. Rich enough to afford a house this nice? Again, I searched my memory on this ‘Old friend of mine’. Yes, I remember he did come from an affluent home. He must have done well for himself, I thought.
With a creak and a groan, the gate opened and a security guard emerged from within.
“Demilade Phillips” I said to his silent enquiry-a quizzical look- of who I was. “Tell your master, Demilade Phillips is at the gate”
The security guard cast a baleful look at me and my somewhat rickety old Corolla before going back into the building.
It felt like an eternity before the bigger gate opened and I took this as an invitation to drive in. I drove through, gaping at the actual size of the house.
It was even bigger than it looked!
The security guard, who had been following my car, pointed to a spot where some other cars had been parked. I must say, I hadn’t seen the latest Range Rover until that day.
How awed and somewhat intimidated I was to park my old, red car beside the black beast.
I switched off and got out of the car.
“The master would see you. Follow the path Sir” the guard admonished and left me to find my way.
As I walked, I began to notice how old and decrepit the house seemed. Paints on sides of the wall were chipped, revealing greyed plaster. Weeds decorated sides of buildings like verdant garlands and grew from the cracks of the paved footpaths.
The house was falling into disrepair.
“Demilade…” a voice said, breaking me out of my scrutiny.
I turned and stared at an unknown man; unknown to me for all of 10 seconds and I’m sure I must have had an idiotic look on my face.
Slowly, I began to see hints of a man I knew ages ago.
“I look a mess, I know” the gravelly voice said, smiling sadly at me.
A mess? He looked positively frightening!
Bushy beard, thin frame covered in a faded blue shirt that had seen the insides of a washing machine one too many times.
Of course, I didn’t say this. I could only manage a ‘Wow’.
“You sure have changed” I whispered, walking to shake his outstretched hand firmly.
“Been a long time. Dee” he said, calling me by my old school nickname.
I laughed suddenly. “Too long Roboto. Too long!”
Roboto, that is, Rotimi my friend.
I remembered him now.
And with remembrance came the burning question, “What happened to you?”
If anyone was ever a shadow of his former self, this man was. The chubby lad from our Floreat days wasn’t this emaciated man I was staring at. He sighed and motioned me towards the main house.
“I’ll tell you everything when we’re inside”
I acquiesced and walked with him in silence, our feet grinding the gravel on the footpath.

“Have a seat” was all he said as he ushered me into his palatial home.
Palatial…and dead.
The drapes were drawn shut; gloomy. The furniture was coated with the gauzy film of dust. I could hear the rattling of an air conditioner in one part of the living room, whining as if taking its last breaths.
“Pardon the appearance” he said, breaking me out of my study and I smiled, sitting on a lumpy sofa beside him
We exchanged news and pleasantries.
Yes, I am an engineer.
Ah! Yes! I remember Tokunbo.
No, I ended up not getting married; bachelor for life.
The story of finding my bride kneeling between the legs of my best man, I left out. It wasn’t something I wanted to share just yet.
I threw his questions back at him.
He was an oil magnate.
Took over family business at death of his parents.
No, he wasn’t married.
He lived with his sister.
And just as I was about to ask after her, a blood curdling scream rent the air. I shrieked, jumping out of the sofa I had reclined in with alacrity. Another burst of animalistic shrieks and screams filtered down and my skin puckered with goose bumps. I turned toward the direction of the sound, somewhere inside the house.

“What was that?” I asked in whispers, surprised at the calmness of my host, sitting still, watching me.
He smiled grimly. “My sister it seems, decided to say hello”
Quite shocked, was I at this revelation.
Embarrassed, I regained composure and sat down as obscenities and curses continued to rain down on us. After what seemed like an hour of madness, there was quiet.
I cleared my throat for the lack of anything to do.
Finally, the reason for the call was revealed.
I listened in morbid fascination to the story of how expensive vices rendered his only remaining family mad.
“Why didn’t you take her to a hospital?”
He shook his head and looked into my eyes. “Family is family. Couldn’t leave her in a mental home.”
How did he take care of her, I had inquired and her told me he saw to her needs, tough as it was. No one wanted to stay long in the house, ergo no servants. At nights, her screams got worse and frightened past domestic workers away. Not even the promise of a tripled salary could entice them to stay.
I was stunned at this revelation. No wonder the poor lad was in a state!
Rude of me perhaps, but it had to be asked.
“Why did you call me?”
He shook his head. “Truth, I don’t know. You came to mind one day. Felt the need to call you, to speak to an old buddy”
I received this news in silence and confusion. To speak to an old buddy? He continued to ramble on and I couldn’t hep but think that surely, he was getting as crazy as his sister.
I expressed my condolences to him and explained how I saw no way I could be of any help.
He got up suddenly and walked to me and holding my hand in a tight grip, he knelt in front of me.
“Just be there for me again. I need a friend again!”
I was quite taken aback by the gesture and the somewhat feverish light that I saw in his eyes as he stared quite intently at me.
I could do naught but agree to his terms.
He greeted my statement with a genuine smile and for a second, my heart went out to the poor, poor man.
“I have to be leaving now” I said, making a show of checking my watch.
He offered to walk me to his car and I agreed, glad to be leaving. We took a different path to the first and I noticed a garden that had a giant obelisk and a statue of angels.
I stopped to stare at the beautiful carvings, greying under the burden of the elements and age. He realised I wasn’t with him and walked back to me.
“Oh. you’ve meet my parents” He whispered.
“Your parents?”
He nodded and pointed out two open graves.
Ready-made for him and for his sister.
“How morbid” I commented and he laughed queerly, sending shivers down spine.
“Have to be prepared” he murmured and we continued our walk to my car in silence.
“Please come by more often” he said as I got into my car.
I nodded politely and shook his hand before closing the door and setting off.
That was how we met and I was determined never to meet him again.

As usual, saying something is one; actually keeping to that word, another matter entirely.
After our brief and somewhat disturbing visit, I got an urgent call and quick as a bird, I was out of Abuja. I did try to keep in touch with my friend, a call here, a text there.
All pleas to come visit were of course null as I wasn’t even around. Granted, I had gone to Calabar for a convention, yet, my convention had ended a week ago.
What then was stopping me from going back home? Was I afraid of my friend, or the fact that the goodness in me wouldn’t allow me lie to him if he asked after my location? Why was I so afraid to ‘help’ him? Could I even be blamed? After all, I didn’t understand what he really wanted from me.
Be that as it may, I stretched my stay in Calabar for a fortnight and going on the third week, I decided I had had enough. I wasn’t going to let another man scare me away from my city. Absurd!
I was on the next flight to Abuja.
I did enjoy a week’s respite before he called.
“You in town now?” he had asked.
I was a grown man; I did not lie. “Yes I am.”
He had asked me to come pay him a visit and I politely declined. Open graves, mad inmates. I sure wasn’t going to go back to that house.
“We would go out for a drink?” I said, offering an olive branch but he too declined.
“I have a sister to look after.” he replied frostily, before saying his curt goodbye.
I must say, I did feel bad for a second but that passed and the wave of relief I felt billow through me made me almost euphoric! I was free!

Alas, I was wrong.
After a few days, I got a frantic call in the late evening. My heart leapt out of my throat and fled when I saw his caller ID. A part of me darned my old friend and curse my good upbringing!
Mr. Politeness.
I picked up the call.
“Demilade you have to come! You have to! Oh my God!”
He shouted and I could have sworn he was sobbing down the line. My pulse raced with worry.
What is it?
I kept asking but the call was cut short. Either he ran out of credit or the network was bad. It was a particularly rainy evening after all.
Fast, I grabbed an umbrella and walked to my car. Wipers on, I drove off to his house.
At the back of my mind, I wondered if I was making it a habit to be a knight in shining armour. My friend was no damsel, which made it all pretty disturbing, truth be told.
It seemed the guard had been given express instruction to let me in because he only had to stick his head out to confirm my car and without questions the huge gate swung open. I parked (next to the Rover again), but had no time to admire the car.
Umbrella open, I walked to the waiting figure who could only be Rotimi. He had no umbrella and the heavy rain pelted him with their watery missiles. Quickly, I rushed and shared my umbrella with him. I was about to chide him when I saw the look of abject despair on his face.
“She is dead” was the only thing he said and walked away from the protection my umbrella provided, oblivious to the chill and dampness. I followed him quickly and entered his home; still was as dreary as the first time.
“I have to bury her” his second sentence to me.
I held his arm, confused. “Bury her? It is raining! And it is night. Won’t you at last have a proper funeral service?”
He turned to stare into my eyes and the look I saw in his eyes stopped me. Here was a man who was dead already.
I wasn’t going to be able to reason with him, I realized too.
“Fine…” I murmured. “I will help”
I watched some of his stiff mien melt and for a second, I thought he was going to fall to his knees. He walked away from me and I noticed his quaking shoulders.
He was crying.
Embarrassed and feeling out of place, I stared at my wet trainers which had left a set of muddy tracks on the marble floor.
“She’s upstairs” he whispered when he had gained a measure of control over his emotions and together we walked up winding stairs to her room. He opened doors, switched on the light and the first reaction when I put my head in there was to run out of the house and never come back. The room stank of urine, faeces and and underlying smell of rot. On the walls were depraved scribbling and realistic drawings of the most obscene and bizarre images.
“She was quite an artist” I whispered awkwardly, for the lack of nothing better to say. He grunted in reply and pointed to the bed where a shrouded body lay.
I was unsure of what to do.
“Where is the casket?” I asked and he looked at me oddly.
“Casket?” he echoed and my mouth rounded in an ‘Oh’. He planned to throw her inside her watery grave that way. How…nouveau.
He moved to the other side of her bed and motioned for me to grab hold of the shrouded ankles. I must say, for a second, I baulked but then common sense returned and I wondered to myself what harm a dead woman could do to me.
A clap of thunder and a flash of lightning decided at that moment to occur, causing me to jump, startled. The fluorescent bulb flicked and dimmed and I felt the sudden need to be out of the room before it went completely dark. I lifted her ankles –how heavy they weighed!- and gingerly, we made our way downstairs. I could not manage the task of carrying an umbrella and a corpse so I resigned to getting myself wet.
He led us under the rain to one of the dug graves and without ceremony, we dumped her body in. He shovelled some sand in, whispering something that was lost to the sound of rain falling on the corrugated roof of the guest house nearby. He buried half way while I stood there, getting rained on, watching him mutter as he laboured. Our eyes met and as if noticing me for the first time, he stopped and walked to me, dropping the shovel.
“I can do this tomorrow Dee. let’s go in.” he shouted above the noise and I nodded, walking with him inside. I left another set of even muddier tracks inside the house but he didn’t seem to mind. Not that I was surprised.
He took me to the kitchen and we removed our shirts. In the kitchen sink, we wrung water out of them.
“Sorry for the inconvenience” he said, directing me back to the living room He disappeared and appeared seconds later with a bottle of Jack Daniel and two glasses.
“Rum” he said, pouring me a full measure. With whispered thanks, I poured the drink down, wincing and sighing with gladness as the warmth of the liquor hit the back of my throat.
He began an odd eulogy right then to the dearly departed. I said nothing, listening to him. I suspect he must have forgotten I was even sitting with him in the living room. He soon quieted and a hush fell. I was grateful for the silence, content to listen to the rain pitter patter furiously and soon I found myself drowsy lulled to sleep by the sound of raindrops.

I cannot say what woke me up but wake up I did. I stretched, wincing in my neck and m eyes alighted on Rotimi. I got up slowly, staring at my friend with a growing sense of foreboding. There he sat on a love seat, eyes open, glass clutched tightly in his hands, whispering to himself.
“Roboto…” I said, before approaching him.
He did not move to acknowledge me.
Was he asleep? In a trance? I drew nearer and tapped him.
“Rotimi…” I said, staring in partly worried and in part fascination at his unblinking gaze and moving lips. I leaned in closer to hear whatever it was he as mumbling.
“She is not dead. She is not dead. Only drugged her to sleep. She is not dead. Buried her alive. Drugged. Alive. Not dead. She is asleep. Drugged…”
She is not dead?
She… She was not dead!
My eyes widened as the import of his words hit me. I drew away from him sharply. Thunder struck and lightning obliged with its flashes.
As if on cue, the power in the house went off.
I felt fear begin to creep at the back of my neck.
His whispering became louder still. I could barely see him in the gloom and another flash of lightning revealed him. He was rocking back and forth.
My heart raced and I quickly stumbled my way into the kitchen where I had hung my shirt to dry off and hastily wore the damp shirt. it was time to make me exit
I heard the door bang open and close and I ran out of the kitchen and into the living room to investigate the noise.
My heart stopped.

Rotimi continued murmuring, oblivious.
Low cackling, muffled laughter; slow, shuffling footsteps.
The living room brightened with another lightning and I swallowed a scream.
A naked, muddied woman walked slowly towards Rotimi.
The light was gone just as quickly and we were plunged into darkness.
She laughed harshly, voice similar to the one I heard the first time I came to the house.
My mind put two and two to make four and my bowels lost control. I felt the warm trickle of urine run down my legs.
She wasn’t dead.
She hadn’t died!
I shook  as I kept still at the entrance to the kitchen, hoping the darkness covered me. I listened in horror as Rotimi shrieked.
Another brief illumination.
She had her hands wrapped around his neck, grinning in feral delight. Rotimi’s eyes bulged and for a split second, as his eyes roved, as if sensing my presence, our eyes met.
Darkness gladly descended.
I heard him choke my name.
I cowered in my hiding place.
I’m sorry.
I can’t.
I heard her scream in glee, accompanied by repeated, heavy thuds. His blood-chilling scream unnerved me and I stuffed my fingers into my mouth to stop myself from screaming.
I don’t want to see!
Nature disobeyed and the room was brightened again.
Her hand was wrapped at the back of his neck, blood dripping. Where Rotimi’s face used to be, a pulpy mass.
Blood and brain matter littered the floor.
She slammed his head on the marble floor again.
“Nuts. Crack me some nuts” she barked and howled like a wolf.
“Holy Mary Mother of God” I whispered tremulously.
Darkness was back.
I heard her ask a distinct question.
“Where is the other one?”
My heart stopped.

It was my turn!
I forced my quaking legs to move, trying to fix a cordinate on where she was when the room was last illuminated.
“WhereisheWhereisheWhereisHE! NUTS! CRACK YOU LIKE A NUTS!”
I heard her move and quickly, i inched my way to the door.
My mind was disoriented. Which way was it?
“NutsNutsNuts” I heard her whisper. Was she nearer?
I swallowed a scream, urging myself to think. I stumbled on furniture and cursed mentally.
She had heard it.
Her shuffling was getting faster.
Quickly, I moved away, feeling a stool under my palm and suddenly knowing which way the door was.
She was quiet.
I stopped and listened.
She was quiet.
I walked slowly towards the door and at that moment, another brightness.
A figure stood before me.
Her black eyes gleamed, yellow teeth exposed in a grin. Her matted hair fell over her face. obscuring an eye, hands akimbo.
“And where did you think you are going?” she whispered to me.
“Oh shi…” i groaned, stepping back.
Quicker than a flash, i felt her cold hands seize me by my shirt.
Panic seized me.
I screamed, pushing her away with a might born out of fear and grunting in satisfaction as i heard her hit a chair.
I scrambled for the door, hands shaking as I tried to find the handle.
She screamed and lunged for me just as I found and yanked the door open. For a brief second, I felt the cold clasps of her fingers at the back of my neck before I ran blindly, out of the house.
She followed me.
I heard her scream as she came out in pursuit.
I pumped my legs as fast as they could carry me, praying to the Almighty I got to my car. I squinted frantically, trying to locate the huge Rover I knew as a landmark.
I ran towards it and heard fast footsteps behind me. My hands fumbled for the keys in my pocket as I ran towards my car and I unlocked it. I literally flew at the handle, yanking and jumping inside, slamming the door and locking.
I heard her body slam on my window and even in the poor light, I saw her glimmering eyes and smile and my eyes widened in horror when I noticed the stone in her hand.
My fingers fumbled with the keys as I heard her first smash, trying to break my window open.
“Come on!” I shouted at the car as I stuck the keys in the ignition and tried to start.
The car wouldn’t start.
I tried again, muttering frenzied encouragements.
I shifted away as the window gave way, broken shard of glass showering me.
She stuck her hand in the hole and tried to grab my, managing only to hold on to an ear.
I screamed.
I felt long nails dig into my skin, drawing blood. She was going to tear my ears out!
With a scream of triumph, my car came alive and without a thought, I reversed, and nodding with a grim smile of satisfaction as she screamed, letting go of me as the jagged window lacerated her arm.
Loud blasts of my horn summoned the guard and immediately he had the big gate open. Without a warning to him, I sped off into the night, not even sparing a glance backwards.

I fell sick after this.
Due to the chill of standing under the rain or due to the horror I experienced, I do not know. It could have been both.
After weeks of self-medication, treating my ear, I got better.
I left my car and moved away from Abuja, going to Lagos to stay with my family.
I do not think I will ever come back to Abuja.

She is out there, waiting.
Some nights, I wake up in cold sweats, afraid. For a few seconds, I believe I see her beside my bed, eyes glimmering; fingers stretched out towards me.
Would I wake up one day to feel her cold fingers closing around my neck?


Inspired by The Fall of the House of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe.
That’s it with POE!
This is a thank you to all who have read and helped me with words of encouragements and creative criticisms. It is always great to know I have an audience to sound out my crazy ideas on.

Please, do not forget to vote for Phantom Pages here for Best Writing blog If you had voted On Monday to Wednesday last week, please vote again because your votes were not counted. 😦
I would really appreciate it if we could make this happen!

Tomorrow begins a new month and I can’t wait to get writing new things!

Do comment and have a wonderful Halloween celebration if it’s your thing.
I’ll be sharing one cup of rice to every child that comes to my door for sweets. How’s that for a treat?

How To Be A Vampire

Today’s post is brought to you by Dionysus. He has a lesson to teach.


Ladies and Gentlemen, this isn’t some crap where I tell you to let a vampire bat bite your neck and then you slash your wrist to turn into a vampire..
This is the Real Shit!
By following these simple rules, you would become a vampire. Vampires are more powerful than the jocks and the cheerleaders in terms of attraction to the opposite sex. They hardly do anything; they don’t play sports nor do they socialise with everyone in school but they are usually the most attractive to the opposite sex… These simple steps would set you on the path of becoming a formidable and irresistibly alluring vampire…


This is your place of solitude, your place where you escape from the world. It may be your room or perhaps a private area somewhere. The key thing about this coffin is that there is nothing stimulating your mind that is outside your control. This means if you’re listening to music, you’re listening to the music you want to listen to. If you’re watching a movie, you’re watching the movie you want to watch. If you’re reading a book, you’re reading the book you want to read. You are consciously feeding your mind with the kind of information you want it to have. All that matters is that you’re in a receptive state. Your room is your coffin. Make sure the curtains are always drawn to avoid sunlight from entering the room. It also helps to turn the lights off so your room reminds you of night. Don’t leave your room unless you really have to and if you do, come back as quickly as possible. Your room is your coffin, your place of rest, your spring from which your draw forth energy and revitalise your immortal body.


Forget all these stupid commercials about creams and soaps that will make you fresh. The key to becoming fresh is avoiding the sun. Don’t stay under the sun and avoid it as much as possible. Soon, your skin would start getting paler, whiter, fresher. The more you stay in your coffin, the more your skin becomes vampirish. Also to have the full effect, it helps to smoke pot. This gives you that vampirish red eye look contrasted with your pale white skin.


Vampires hate the sun. Apart from the fact that it scorches their skins and turns them to ash, nothing ‘va va voom’ ever happens underneath the sun. Everything during the daytime is always so PG13 like life suddenly became Disney Channel. At night though, weird things happens, uncensored things, Carnal things. Vampires are known for their love of blood, flesh and sex. The night is usually the period most people let loose, Release the Beast, Unleash the Dragon but during the daytime, they are on a leash…
So, go out at night. If you have to go out during the day, wear a ring on your finger. This is the ring that protects you from the sun burning you to ashes. It also represents something else in reality.
This is called ‘Peacocking’. By wearing a mystical looking ring on your finger, you look mysterious and people are attracted to mystery. Accessorise mostly with black items, black chains, rings, bracelets etc. Also, its cool to dress in mostly black attire.


This is what vampires use to capture and influence the souls of other human beings. They do this with their gaze. To do the glamour move, look people directly in the eye when you speak and don’t blink often. This makes them very attracted cause they love the attention and yet are frightened by it. It gets their juices flowing. Believe it or not, it is easier to maintain your gaze with someone than to let your eyes keep darting around all over the place when speaking to them.


The strongest Vampires are usually the oldest. This means they have more knowledge and power than the ones that came after them. A Vampire must have seen the grim as well as the good in his/her long time alive. You should have knowledge of things, mostly controversial things that are mysterious but really happened in reality. You should do away with the nerdy techy way of speaking adopted by the youths of this generation; tweetering language, facebook language etc and sound like someone in the 1920s. I’m not saying you should go all shakespeare and talk in the manner in which they spoke, all I’m saying is if you have 10 words to say, make sure you take your time and say them as cleanly and as clearly as possible. Its better to say 10 words well pronounced than a thousand words in haste which usually signifies nervousness.


Believe it or not, items have tremendous power imbued upon them. They capture the subconscious parts of our minds and override the conscious. If for instance someone puts a statue of Jesus in his room or a large crucifix, He/she would start having thoughts of Christ and this in turn influences his/her behaviour. If on the other hand someone puts a picture of baphomet in his room, a pentagram, a black sabbath poster and a skull in his/her room, He/she would start having evil thoughts and this in turn would influence his/her actions. I’m not here to preach to you about morality. We choose to be heroes or villains; one cannot exist without the other. Collect items that are dear to you and place them in your coffin or your room. When your mind keeps seeings these objects or items that you like on a daily basis, it influences your mind subconsciously and brings you closer to how you need to be; A Bloodthirsty Vampire.
Symbols are extremely powerful… For the blood effect, you could drink red wine and let it slither off the side of your lips so you’d look like you just drank someone’s blood. Also, blackcurrant and zobo would do the trick for the vamp effect.


Plain black shirts and white shirts, short sleeve, long sleeve, Tshirts etc are the way to go if you want to become a vampire. Drop the fancy colored shoes and the tight jeans and the bright colored pink or yellow Tshirts.. I don’t know why this generation embraces that crappy look but that look just says ‘look at me everyone, I’m a fucking nerd trying to be cool’.
Instead of buying blue, green, red, yellow footwear, save up your money and just buy one black ankle boots. It goes with everything. If you’re wearing jeans, wear something that gives your balls space to breathe and not some tight crap. Black pants are awesome for the vamp look. Black pants + white shirt = ultimate vampire look. If you are wearing jewellery or accessories, black jewellery is the way to go. Its very cool to look at someone’s neck and you see a black rope hanging on it. It says I’m rich but I don’t like to show off by wearing a big gold chain or a fancy shiny silver chain. Also, silver items are known to burn vampires skins. Black accessories also make you look mysterious. Its always good to have a bland flat look.. Not too colorful and not too dull.. Also, the more gloomier colored clothes suit the soon to be vampire. Red, Purple, Dark blue, Dark Green, Black, Dark Grey etc.. White is the only bright color that suits a vampire. The idea is that when people look at you, you should remind them of the night, taboo, darkness and unrestrained passion.


In this generation were everyone thinks they know it all and talking too much is the way to attract the opposite sex, it pays to talk less. If someone says something to you and you tried so hard in those seconds after they said it to come up with something reasonable to say but you couldn’t come up with anything reasonable to say to reply them, just look them in the eye and let a small smile come out from the side of your lips.
Don’t try to be funny.
Everybody is such a fucking comedian in this generation. Stop trying to be funny, Its the cheapest and most insignificant way to get attention. Its much better to speak philosophically than to speak about facts, the News and what is happening currently in the world. The idea is this; the less you know, the more fodder for conversation. Even though you did know something, pretend like you don’t and let them talk about it to you. You can then apply step 4; The Glamour Move. Just keep looking them in the eye as they speak and try your best not to blink too much. Let the tear fill your eye and let it shine with a nice gleam to hypnotize them but don’t let the tear roll down your cheeks as this would quell the spell.

This is all I could think of for now, maybe there are more, maybe not but practice these steps and watch yourself slowly but surely transform to a real life vampire.. Don’t doubt it, Try it.
This is legit shit!

You’ve heard him!!!
P.s: Best Vampire, Lestat de Lioncourt. (Stuart Townsend), created by Anne Rice. Oh Yummy!!!! ^.^

Pandora’s Box

Dionysus is back!
You know what that means.


He would sit up from the bed where he lay, watching the clock tick; each monotone like a hammer driving nails into every brain cell, puncturing it, pouring out the slithering juice of static into his nervous sytem.
One second felt like hours.
One hour felt like a day.
One day felt like a century.
This hadn’t been a feeling strange to him. Back then, he could get by just watching porn. The moans of the actresses seemed the only thing that could distract him for a short while. When the blood left his head and flowed south to his cock, he felt liberated from the voices forever tormenting him inside his head.

These voices never shut up.
They feel the need to analyse everything.
He found that the only time he could numb these voices was when he was doing something taboo. Something so stimulating and so wrong that it aroused dormant animalistic parts of the brain normally repressed by everyday life; repressed by society, religion & convention.
Those parts that are involved in the raw carnal expression of the human soul.
He found that it was only when he was high that he could actually control his thoughts and channel them to a particular direction. Sober, his thoughts were sporadic like the waves of the caspian sea but on drugs, they came out like water pouring from a tap.

Jeremy never liked what everybody liked. Maybe it was due to the fact that he was born sick, born with what the doctors called Asthma. This had caused him to spend most of his childhood in the hospital.
This, coupled with the tauntings of his siblings, making fun of him while he was sick and gasping for breath, made him develop a subconscious disdain for humanity at an early age.
The wickedness; the cruelty.
He saw this done to a child born blind, forced to live the rest of his days forever being less than his peers.
He saw this done to an innocent child born with HIV from his parents and dying at the age of 6.
He saw this done to someone born with a handicap and everyone pretending like they didn’t see the shriveled atrophied limbs, always keeping a grotesque plastic smile on their faces.
Even the way able-bodied people treated others like themselves.
Kill or be killed; take or be taken from…
All this made him loathe humanity and he swore he would never end up like them. He promised himself that he would do whatever it took to not end up like humanity.
He wanted to overcome humanity. To become larger than it.
To become better, more grandiose than it.
“Insecurity isn’t mine to feel. Fear isn’t mine to feel. I would do whatever it takes to not feel it. I will take whatever it takes to not feel it”.
This was Jeremys motto.
This is the secret code of anyone who ever created anything in this world.
They distance themselves from their peers, think in solitude and do something about their thoughts. Success is a lonely path filled with lots of distractions usually labelled as ‘friends’.
Jeremy decided to create a blog at the age of 13.
He called it Pandora’s Box, the title based on the myth. Whoever opened the ‘box’ would have seen something so maniacal and sinister that their minds would forever be scarred – they wouldn’t be able to return to how they were hitherto before they opened it.
He kept posting the most diabolical, evil content he could find on the web on that blog.
He also nested his writing ability with the blog, giving some pictures captions, writing short stories, uploading evil documentaries like the Columbine shootings, Ted Bundy, Charles Manson, and clips from horror movies as well as previews.
Five years later, his blog was getting so much attention with 105,932 hits, averaging 400 hits per day. The likes of Stephen king, Wes Craven, John Carpenter visited his blog. He got a deal from one of them and they used his story to make a blockbuster horror movie called Phantasmagoria. It stayed number 1 at the box office for about a month, something no present day horror movie can do. With this, the attention his blog was getting skyrocketed to about 20,000 hits per day. Also, with the money Jeremy got for the storyline of Phantasmagoria and the royalty paid to him, he became rich.

I said earlier that Jeremy never liked what everybody liked. He bought a 16th Century Gothic mansion, a Ferrari and got himself sexy female workers, hiring them basically for their looks not for their qualifications.
Right from the security team to the drivers, to the maids where girls dressed in sexy costumes to fill the role.
It all looked like a scene from a pornographic or a raunchy techno video.

His obsession with the occult grew as more people visited his blog. He had to keep the content interesting. He had to keep it new and if he wanted to do that, he had to delve deeper into the occult. He soon started organising costumed orgies in his mansion. Everyone gathered around in a room he called the ‘Sin Chamber’.
They all wore  masks.
The purple cape was optional, their genitalia exposed. What he did was burn a large dose of the hemp plant, letting it pass through the air supply as the orgy went on. This heightened their senses and lowered their inhibitions making them fuck like rabbits, groping, moaning like hungry wolves. He read somewhere that a room filled with sexual activity stored that energy and that room was a perfect medium to perform black magic.
Whether all this was fact or fiction, Jeremy had a strong belief in the occult so all this stuff was real to him. He performed certain rituals in the room when no one was around. He needed only his female staff to stand around him nude in the room as the ritual needed him to have an erection.
This was an agreement on their contract.
They were told they would be paid extra for ‘extracurricular activities’ if they ticked a certain box. Many of them ticked the box.
He claimed that these rituals gave him enlightenment. Enabled him to see beyond the normal scope. Whether it was true or not, nobody knows. He posted the orgies on his blog and still got more hits. People could only access the videos of the orgy if they were registered as premium users on his blog thus, generating even more income.
He was voted FreaKY Magazine Scariest Man Alive.
He now donned a mysterious look like the pope with a black/purple robe.
His obsession with the occult still grew deeper and that was when he took a trip to Mexico.
Like a junkie, even though he believed his room filled with the nectar and the aura of sexual activity gave him power, he still wanted more. A shaman sold to him a very powerful potent psychedelic plant. He burned it at the next orgy.

As the plant was burned, the usual wanton sex and the low moans had already begun although, something about the mood seemed darker. As the fumes permeated the air, the people started getting more violent and instead of moans, they were laughing so hard with tears rolling down their cheeks.
The men started thrusting harder, the women started scratching. As more smoke filled the room, wails were heard as punches started occuring; biting, kicking. They were rutting violently, tearing flesh off each others’ skins.
The drug leached their brains and one by one, they began to die of blood loss.
The ones that were still alive placed their index and middle fingers right through their eyeballs before banging their head repeatedly on the floor till they bled to death.
The whole room was covered in blood and dead bodies.
His next ritual was that he lay with dead bodies for 7 days straight, no food, no water. By the fourth day, the bodies started to stink real bad but that was of course, part of the ritual.
It was said that if he inhaled the stench of their rotten corpses, he would absorb part of their souls, ‘mana’ they called it. The whole ritual was to give him extra powers, clairvoyance, spiritual knowledge etc. The massacre also went on tape but it wasn’t put on his blog. It was sold to a very rich collector in Yugoslavia for a very high price. Nobody knew whether the rituals were working or it was just Jeremies strong belief in them but by then, Jeremy looked very sinister, like the Devil himself.
He had dark circles surrounding his eyes, a skin head and a thick beard like a knife. His voice sounded like a frog when he spoke, Very slowly and with every word and every syllable enunciated properly. He always looked people straight in the eye and seldom blinked, seldom moved his head but only moved his lips as he spoke. This was to put whoever was speaking to him in a sort of hypnotic trance. Who would have thought a sick asthmatic nervous child could go this far? People who made fun of him in the past were now scared shitless of him as well as in awe and admiration of him. This wasn’t enough though. His hatred of mankind made him want to destroy it.

The final ritual was that he sacrifice his phallus for godhood. If he did this, the ritual claimed he would be able to move through time, alter people’s perception with just his stare, cause a mass genocide with a snap of his finger and be impervious to any form of attack. He decided to cut his dick off, afterall, he had had sex with every woman he ever lusted for both for ritual & non ritual purposes. He had grown tired of sex. Darkness and the occult was more of a release for him than the 20 minute pleasure he felt from an orgasm. He recited his incantations, put the knife at the base of his dick and sawed it off, back and forth.
Unfortunately, he bled to death.
People got aware of his violent orgies, killing a total of 643 people. People who came to the orgies were never allowed to tell anyone so missing people came up in the news but nobody knew their whereabouts.
Jeremy was labelled the Scariest & Most Evil Man Ever by some.
A label he would have cherished if he were alive.
The greatest desire of any weak man on Earth was to make those who made him feel weak afraid and envious of Him.
A feat Jeremy achieved.


Dionysus is just one helluva disturbed dude.

L. Diablo

Esto puede o puede no haber pasado


I’ve been asked by many if I believe the things I write; If I am really that dark and disturbed.
Yes actually, I am. I believe in everything I write. I believe in evil as much as I believe in good. Sometimes, maybe more. Some would say that’s the pessimist in me. I’ll like to believe it’s the realist in me
Is the darkness because of the absence of light or is the light an absence of darkness?
I asked myself this as I walked down the road after grocery shopping at Morrisons. My mind was occupied and that was why I didn’t notice him. It took a hand restraining my foot to break me out of my reverie. I was startled. I turned and stared angrily at the hobo holding me. Seeing that he had gotten my attention, he smiled at me and I shook my head, signalling the fact that I had no coin to spare. I was about to move on when he made a remark that stopped me in my tracks.
“I know the answer to your question” he said and flashed his toothy grin, affording me the chance to count his sparse teeth if I was inclined to. I was too busy being surprised.

“What is my question?” I asked him and he laughed.
“You just asked a question like Nebuchadnezzar. He wanted to know what his dream meant but instead, he asked the charlatans to tell him what he dreamt about. He wanted to be sure they were real.”
He laughed again.
“I will tell you your question. You want to know which us greater: Light or Darkness. You want to know which came first.”
I was shocked. “How…”
“Did I know that?”
I nodded slowly.
“I’m wise, perhaps. I’m a guru maybe. Now let me ask you a question. How did you think I knew that?”
I was stumped. I really had no idea how he did that. Maybe I was talking loudly to myself. I tend to do that sometimes.
“No, you weren’t talking loudly” he said and barked in laughter at the look of surprise on my face.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked, curious and a little scared at the same time.
He smiled and offered me his dirty hand for a shake. Against my better judgement I took it and shook.
“O Weird one, as you call yourself on Twitter” he said, with a twinkle in his eyes, “I am Heilel ben Shakhar”
“Heilel…ben? Are you Jewish? A rabbi?”
He laughed again. I couldn’t help but smile. He had a funny laugh. At this point, I turned around and noticed some people were staring covertly at us, probably wondering what I was doing, talking to a vagrant. I became shy.
“Ignore them” he said, standing up. “And no, I’m not Jewish even though my name does sound rather lovely in that tongue.”
“So what are you then?” I asked.
He leaned on the wall, until we were at eye level.
“The Greeks would call me Eosphorus. Venus in some translation. English, Son of the morning star. You know me as Lucifer”
I chuckled.
“Come on now! You want me to believe you’re the devil? Or your parents really named you Lucifer?” I asked my voice ripe with derision.
“The former. More or less. And I can prove it.” he grinned.
I couldn’t help myself.
“Prove it”
He smiled.
“Give me a moment. I’ll pop into the store to freshen up. This look gets tiring sometimes.”

And that was how I stood, waiting for a hobo who just piqued my interest to exit the store. I watched the crowd pass by, smiling in my head at the ridiculous dressing of one lady I was sure was Jamaican. I quickly checked the time on my phone. It was getting late. I had to cook too.
“Man shall not live by bread alone” a smooth voice whispered beside me. For the second time that day, I startled.
“Umm…do I know you Sir?” I asked, looking in askance at the handsome man beside me. He laughed.
“How many times would I introduce myself to you Weirdo?”
My jaw was unhinged. “…Wow.”
“I know” he said smiling, “I clean up well”
Well was an understatement.
He was freshly shaven, looking dapper in a clean-cut suit with cufflinks made purely out of stones I was sure were diamonds. Oh and he had perfect, white teeth.
This was terribly odd.
I suddenly became nervous.
“I…I think I should be going..”
His brows furrowed. “You’re really weird aren’t you? Many people would never stop to talk to a hobo. You did. Many people would talk and suck up to me when I’m like this, and you won’t.” he shook his head.
“I’m…I’m…it’s better I go…”
He touched my arm.
“Don’t you want to know the answer to your question? Don’t you want to see if I’m really Lucifer?”
I was torn between curiosity and caution.
“Please. I will bring you back in record time.”
“Will you really?”
He put his hand on his chest. “Scout’s honour”
He grinned. I smiled back tentatively.
He smiled widely.
“Transportation awaits” and without waiting for my response, took my hand and marched me to the car park. I could feel stares as we walked.
One too many women stared enviously at us.
He marched me to a long black car, waiting. He opened the back door and allowed me to get in before he did.
“A limo. Really.” I muttered. I’m not a fan of big cars.
He laughed. “Well, I love the bar” he said, pointing to the revolving rack of bottles.
He chuckled in agreement whilst leaning over to fetch a bottle and two glasses.
“Your preferred poison” he said, showing me the Jack Daniels he held.
He was right.
He poured us drinks and added some ice to his.
“None in mine please”
I like it straight.
He handed me a glass and sat down. He took a sip and grimaced slightly.
“You don’t like it” I remarked.
“Not my favourite I admit. Too…dry. I’m a wine guy.”
“The Devil is a wine guy. You whiner” I murmured and laughed softly to myself. He watched me from the rim of his glass.
“You’re not drinking”
I took a sip, gurgling it a little in my throat. Fantastic. I drained my cup.
“It’s my kind of stuff”
“I noticed” he said dryly.
He refilled my glass.
“So…” I started.
I laughed. “This is weird you know”
He smiled genially. “I can tell.”
I nodded “You sure can tell a lot”
It was his turn to laugh. “For example, i can tell you’re bursting to ask questions but you don’t know how to start”
I nodded ” True.”
He spread his hands. “Go on”
“Number one. Are you really who you say you are? Like really?”
“If I told you something about yourself would you believe me?”
He nodded.
“You were 8 when your nanny held you up to the ceiling and threw you down”
My chest spasmed a little in remembrance.
“Right.” I paused. “So you might be who you say you are.”
“O ye of little faith” he murmured and I grinned.
“Question two. Why the whole theatrics with the hobo dressing?”
He guffawed.
“Theatrics you say!”
I waited patiently until he had gathered himself.
“Well, I enjoy studying humanity, uninterrupted. What better way to do that than by looking like a beggar? No one really takes note of us. Many try hard to stay away from us.”
“So…you beg just to study people. Interesting.” I drained my glass again and he refilled.
“So, you said you could answer my question…”
“Ah yes!” he dropped his half empty glass, stretched his legs out and hooked his hand at the back of his head.
“Darkness and Light are two different entities. Darkness is in fact older than light. It is not good, neither is it evil. It is pure.”
“Yes. Pure. Complete. Absolute. And that is why I like it.”
“So which is more superior?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “My opinion is subjective. So is the opinion of the Maker. I’ll say Darkness. He’ll say Light.”
I nodded. “I see…”
I looked out of the window, watching life pass by.
“Why did you pick me?” I turned back to him.
His eyes locked with mine. “Pick you? You don’t believe this was a chance meeting? A random occurrence?”
I raised an eyebrow, sceptical.
He chuckled “Fine. It wasn’t random. I’ve watched you for quite a while. You sometimes drop some coins into my tin cup. You’ll always smile slightly. Like you find something amusing. I was…intrigued”
I nodded. “I see.”
“Do you?”
I found the question odd.
“You know you have ‘worshippers’” I said. “The Satanists. Do you also have these kind of meetings with them?”
He chuckled. “Oh them. Well why would I?”
Eyebrow raised again. “Why indeed. They believe in you…amongst other things…”
He nodded. “That they do. And that is why they don’t need me.”
“And you think I somehow need you?”
He smiled. “You do. You will. It’s your type that interest me. The ones that believe strongly in the Maker. I want to open your eyes to what He truly is.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “He is what He is.”
He laughed. “A very evasive way of introducing Himself. That’s Him for you.”
He shook his head and continued. “I am what I am. And you choose not to ask ‘What is it that you are?’ You just believe.”
“Is this your idea of a smear campaign?”
He raised his hands in mock defence. “No. No. Not smear. Just…Truth.”
I scoffed. “You’re one to talk about the Truth. Prince of Liars. Accuser.”
He smiled, taking no offence. “Now that my dear, is the smear campaign used against me.”
“I see” I muttered sarcastically.
“You don’t”
“You don’t see. You assume you see but you don’t. If you saw, you’ll probably be mad by now”
He grinned widely.
Something about the quality of his smile unnerved me.
Lucifer or not, this man was dangerous.
I swallowed.
“Yeah. Sure.”
He paused for a beat.
“Do you want to see?”
“See what?”
He spread his hands in an expansive gesture.
“See…Life. Truth.”
I thought about if and shook my head. We lapsed into silence. I could feel his unwavering stare on me and self-consciously, I kept my eyes outside.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere quiet. Cosy. We can talk there.”
I nodded.
I wasn’t familiar with the streets we passed and I made use of the tinted glasses to stare at pedestrians, unashamed. Most tried to peer in. I bet they were wondering what celebrity was in here.
I laughed out loud and turned to him.
“Sorry. I do that sometimes.”
He smiled. “Don’t we all.”
“You know…I have no idea what to call you. Lucifer san? Lucy? L?”
He shrugged. “Anything would do.”
I stared curiously at him.
“What is your real name?”
A glint entered his eyes. The unnerving look was back.
“Names have powers. Fearsome powers. I cannot tell you mine. For your sake.”
“My sake” I whispered.
“Yes.” The glint disappeared and his eyes shone in amusement. “I like Lucci. Like Gucci. Only better.”

Before I could comment on how lame that was, the car stopped.
“Where are we?”
“Merriot Hotel”
My mouth widened. “THE Merriot Hotel?”
He said nothing and stepped out of the car and motioned me to do the same.
“Leave your bags inside”
I stepped out, glancing curiously around me. This was a haunt for the affluent in the society. I was very certain we’ll be sent back. Well I would be. He looked the part of a successful man. I looked…drab.
Sensing my dilemma, he smiled kindly at me and took my hand in his. We walked to the door and I watched, astonished as the doorman bowed slightly to him. We walked into opulence.
I was fascinated by this new world.
Low, melodic music somewhere in the background, murmured. I spied a gang of Saudi princes, chatting over cups of coffee.
A concierge greeted him warmly, throwing me a brief, puzzled glance.
“Mr L. So glad to see you today. Same room?”
“Yes and thank you.”
The concierge gave a small bow and left. I turned to him.
“Mr L?”
He grinned. “L for Lucci”
I shook my head. “Do they know who you really are? Or profess to be?”
“Some do. I’ve had…business”
“Ah…I see” I whispered.
“You don’t” he whispered back.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
The concierge returned. “This way Sir, Madam.”
It took a second for me to realise he was referring to me as ‘Madam’.
I smiled sheepishly as I followed them into a small, stately room.
I sat an arm’s length away from him, and noticing this, he merely raised and eyebrow and rolled his eyes, mocking me.
Another man, a staff, came in.
Without waiting for him to speak, Mr. L turned to me.
“What would you have? Some wine perhaps?”
“Umm…” I shook my head. “Coffee would be fine.”
He raised his elegant eyebrows at me. “Coffee.”
He turned to the waiting man and I watched him as he ordered the waiter to do his bidding.

He was beautiful. Bronzed skin, hair jet black with white patches at the sides. His nose, slightly hooked, just the way I liked. His lips looked sinfully soft and had a wet sheen to them. Sinfully wet. I sniggered in my head. He finished talking to the waiter who left, then he turned to me.
“You really need to learn how to hide your thoughts”
His green eyes shone with mirth. I grinned.
“It just makes me wonder what you really look like.”
He grinned. “You don’t like this look?”
“Au contraire. It’s just that…” I paused. “You change looks. The curious part of me wonders what your true form is”
He leaned back into the sofa. “Same way you wondered what my true name was.”
I nodded.
“You should curb your curiosity” he said softly.
I raised an eyebrow in defiance. “Why? Is Curiosity a bad thing?”
“No. But it could lead you into paths…unfavourable.”
I laughed suddenly; snorting a little.
“What?” his voice, miffed.
“You’re funny. Are you warning me to be careful? I mean, aren’t you the Devil? You should be encouraging me to be wild and bad” I grinned widely.
“Oh” his lips pulled at the corners. “I like you”
“I like you too. Which I guess should be crazy, considering the fact that you’re evil and all”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I look evil?”
The waiter came back with our drinks.
I whispered my thanks and waited till he was gone.
“Do I?”
He asked again.
I took a sip from my cup and daintily dropped it back on the saucer.
“No. Actually you don’t. But evil is in the heart isn’t it?”
He smiled. “Well answered. But is evil bad? Who made it bad? Why is it seen as bad?”
I was silent; thinking.
“Anything that hurts people in the long or short run is bad.”
“Oh? And how are we sure people don’t just feel hurt because they’ve been told to feel so?”
I grimaced. “That makes no sense. So someone who’s getting killed could as well feel good about dying?”
“You are all going to die anyway”
I shook my head. “No sense.”
A strand of hair dislodged from my bun and fell across my face. I pushed it back without thinking. It fell to my face again and muttering peevishly, I pushed it out.
He came to my side.
“Let me help with that”
I stayed still as he pinned my errant bun up. He was so close. He smelt…he smelt of all my favourite scents. Wet grass. Burning wood. My mum.
“Done” he whispered. He looked at me and smiled softly. I smiled back.
He remained where he was and  leaned back again, studying the ceiling. Our legs touched. I was very conscious of that.
“How old are you?” I blurted out. I needed to break the tension building inside me.
“How old is eternity?” he shot back at me.
I shrugged. “Dunno”
He looked at me.
“Come on. Talk.”
I bit my lip in thought.
The silence stretched for minutes. He wasn’t going to break it anytime soon.
“I think Eternity began when the universe was made. I cannot say how long that was. I’ve read that the Earth may have existed for over 400 million years. If that’s the case, and assuming other planets existed roughly at the same time before each other,  then…” I paused and frowned. “I’m rambling”
He shook his head. “No please. Continue.”
He was mocking me. It was written all over his face.
I felt hurt.
“Go to hell” I muttered.
“Apparently I will…eventually” he said and laughed. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
I threw him a nasty look and his grin widened.
“Stop sulking. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Yeah yeah”
“Age is such a mundane thing. I laughed because the years you mentioned were ridiculous.”
“Yes, my curious one. Ridiculous. It’s like looking at me now and calling me a two-year old.”
I frowned. “So it’s older?”
He nodded. “You know the phrase ad infinutum?”
I nodded. “Without end”
“Yes. The universe began at the end of ad infinutum.”
I was lost. “Huh?”
He laughed.
I huffed. “You’re just messing with me. Give Science a couple of years and they’ll discover the exact number in years.”
He laughed harder.
“Science.” he said wistfully as he wiped his tears of mirth.
“Science was and is my brain child.”
I was puzzled. “Your brain child?”
“He grinned.”Yes. It’s fun to throw Scientists titbits of clues and watch them mule over it for years before coming up with half-assed theories.”
I looked at him. “You’re behind the idea that ‘There is no God’.”
He grinned and bowed. “None other. Fight the Power.”
I shook my head, smiling, part impressed.
“You devil.”
“I have a reputation to maintain.”
I shook my head and laughed. I was clearly out of my league with this man.
“Would you like to see?”
“See what?”
“Ad infinutum. How the universe began. The beginning of the stars. The  parts of Space Man hasn’t yet discovered…”
My eyes widened. “Are you for real?”
He nodded, eyes twinkling.
“That would be so awesome! Hell yeah!”
He held up a hand.
“First, you’ll have to let me in.”
“Let you in? Where?”
He tapped my head. “There.”
“Umm. Dude you’ve been reading my thoughts all day. You’ve been there and back.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“That was just a neat party trick. I didn’t really enter your mind. Your familiar fed me that information.”
“Huh? Familiar?”
“Yes. What the Ancient Egyptians called ‘Ka’. Your Ka is a spiritual copy of you. It knows everything about you. Well, almost. The part of you I want to access doesn’t come with your Ka. It’s yours alone. So you, dear, need to let me in.”
My brain whirled. “I have a spiritual doppelgänger who knows everything about me. Now if that isn’t creepy…”
He said nothing.
“If my Ka doesn’t have the part you want to access that means it’s special…sacred no?”
He nodded.
“Hmmm. And if I let you in…”
“We will be linked. You will share my memories. Fed slowly of course. I could show you so many things, my dear. I would blow your mind…literally if I’m not careful.”
“Show me many things…like the beginning of the world. The Host.”
“Yes.” he whispered.
“And after that?”
He drew closer to me and cupped my face in the palm of his hand.
“I become a part of you. I won’t take over.” He said softly “You can summon me when you need me. I could help you with knowledge.”
He ran his thumb lightly across my lips. “You yearn to know. Oh, the craving to learn. The insatiable need of yours to master; To dominate…” He blew air softly out of his lips, on mine. I shivered, eyes glazed. I leaned in closer.
“I could make you rich without even trying. Just…”
He stared into my eyes. I couldn’t look away. His head lowered towards mine.
My lips parted.
Show me.
“Say it…” he whispered.
My mouth opened.

A cough interrupted us and I snapped back to the present. I saw the split-second change in his eyes as he turned to look at the waiter who had interrupted us.
“Get out” he whispered, voice beyond cold and I shuddered, watching the waiter shake in terror, running.
I rubbed my face vigorously, trying to regain my balance.
What on Earth did I almost do?
I shook in revulsion and fear.
I got up.
“I want to go home”
He turned to me and for a second I didn’t breathe. His eyes were filmed over, red as blood. I swear I saw the  heat curl off his hair.
I whimpered and shrank away from him.
He closed his eyes and opened then, returning them back to normal.
He sighed.
“I’ve scared you. I’m sorry. Please. Sit.”
My legs were still shaky but I refused to sit. I cleared my throat.
“No. I need…to go now”
He must have known I wasn’t going to change my mind.
He sighed again and got up.
He ushered me out of the room and I walked slowly, trying not to buckle until we were back inside the car.
He watched me, waiting for me to talk. I said nothing.
He sighed.
“You never responded to my proposal” he said softly.
“No, what?”
“No. You’re not welcome into me.” I didn’t look at him.
I heard him sigh again.
“You’d have said yes if he hadn’t interrupted. Wouldn’t you?”
I could feel the fierceness of his gaze in me. I kept my eyes down.
“Well, we’ll never know now will we?”
We lapsed back into silence.
“You could have everything you know. Every stinking thing. I know your heart desires. I can make them all come true.”
I sighed and looked at him.
“And when time ends, when the Earth is finished, where would you lead us to?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know”
I shook my head. “You know. And you know it’s not pleasant”
He said nothing.
“How many people have you given this proposal to?” I asked few minutes later.
He shrugged. “A lot”
I nodded. “How many refused?”
He paused. “I can count them with my fingers and still have some left.”
I nodded and kept quiet.
“The Maker you love doesn’t love you.” He whispered. “He doesn’t understand the concept of Love. He just needs obedient sheep who won’t question His every word. Would you remain subservient forever?”
I said nothing.
“At least with me you will know all. I won’t force you to do anything. I am benevolent. Hell, I appeal to your wild side. How long will you keep that side under lock and key?”
I kept quiet until the car rolled into the car park, where our journey began.
I knew he was angry. I could smell faint whiffs of sulphur.
“I’ll make life difficult for you until you accept me. You know that right?”
He smiled savagely.
I returned the smile, coldness for coldness.
“You’re a sore loser”
He growled.
I got out of the car, remembering to pick up my groceries. I heard the car zoom past me and I didn’t look back.
I didn’t also see the car that was trying to park where the limo just left. I just heard the screeching of brakes and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, staring at the sky, with a bruised back. A face came into my view.
An apologetic woman.
“Are you ok?”
She helped me up and I winced as I bent to pick up my fallen bags.
“Yes I’m ok. No, no ambulance.”
Maybe I needed the ambulance.
I mean, why was the sky so bright?
I had noticed it getting darker when we left the hotel.
I brought out my phone from my pocket and checked the time.
I turned and looked around.
I was on Earth alright.
I turned to the woman who was still looking worriedly at me.
“What’s the time please? Think the phone’s acting up.”
She checked her wristwatch.
“Ten past three.”
My phone wasn’t acting up. It was correct.
At ten past three, I was crossing the road to the other side, a few minutes before I met the hobo/devil.
“Mind fuckery” I whispered.
I waved at the lady and crossed the road in a daze, walking to the path where I encountered him as the Hoo.
My heart skipped.
There he was.
I walked on quickly, throwing glances at him.
He was asleep.
I could hear his snores.
“Maybe i just imagined it all.”
No, even I didn’t believe that .
“I think I’ve finally lost it” I whispered to myself as I walked on.
“No, no you haven’t” the sleeping man whispered and smiled, eyes still closed.
I didn’t hear him.


In my head

Another Friday, another entry!

I’d be taking a leaf from @ekwem’s book today.
No, i won’t be writing about angels and their flaming swords.
I would be writing about a dream i had.
A pretty basic one. A good dream by my standards in fact.
*shark grin*


His death came under the most regrettable of circumstance.
We were all on the yacht, acting like the rich oafs that we were.
I probably shouldn’t have teased him the way I did but I’m a succubus. I couldn’t help myself.
I didn’t exactly expect him to jump off the yacht when I told him to. I promised him something; I forget what now.
A kiss perhaps.
He jumped.
The fool drowned.
“OMG! My brother!!” his brother- and my friend- screamed.
Two of my friends jumped into the sea to pull him out, albeit too late.
“Let us revive him” his brother muttered.
I tore my eyes away from the  blue-green scenery to give him a startled look.
“Revive him? With that method? No! Not safe!”
His brother threw me an angry glare, as if saying ‘This is all your fault!’
Yeah. Like I cared if his stupid brother lived or died.
I shook my head at them. “If I were you, I wouldn’t revive him.” I muttered.
The brother ignored me. The other friends sided with him.
Yada Yada.
“Go ahead then” I whispered, turning back to gaze at the unending sea.
The hairs at the back of my neck stood up even as I said so.
It wasn’t going to end well.
I heard them lift the dead body and place him on one of the long sofas.
I didn’t want to watch but my curiosity got the better of me.
I watched them as they set The Machine.
The Machine was my design, my brain child.
The friends contributed as well but I brought the idea so yeah!
Theoretically, it was supposed to be able to bring the dead back to life.
Practically… well we hadn’t tested it yet.
I think that as why I was curious; I really wanted to see if my child would work.
His brother unbuttoned and exposed the dead boy’s chest. Gingerly, he placed the metal disks on the chest and fiddled with The Machine, adjusting the dials.
He glanced at me as his fingers hovered on the switch button.
I nodded hesitantly.
He flicked the switch.

We watched in fascination as the body jerked and smoked, high volts to the skin.
It stopped.
We all stared, transfixed.
It didn’t work?
I was beginning to feel an ache of disappointment in my heart, when the body sat up.
It worked.
We raise the fucking dead!
He opened his eyes and turned to us.
He smiled.
That’s when I knew the shit had hit the fan.

He wasn’t normal.
It was too darn obvious.
They stepped away from him as he cleared his throat.
“You shouldn’t have brought me back” his voice rasped, that manic grin still plastered on his face.
His brother went to him, trying to touch him.
With blinding speed, the dead boy’s arms went around his brother’s neck.
Broken neck.
My friend was dead.
“You really shouldn’t have brought me back” he said again. “Not after you killed me”
He laughed and began to get up.
I backed away, and without checking on my friends, I jumped off the boat.
Shit has hit the fan.
That was my only thought as my head broke into the waters.


“You have someone here asking for you” The voice on the phone said.
I grumbled. I was in a lecture. Why on earth would the school receptionist be calling me about a visitor?
“Who is it? Name?” I muttered as I got up and walked to the back of the class.
“No name. He just left now, coming up to your hall. Had some pretty freaky smile on.”
The pen dropped.
Uh oh.
I quickly cut the phone, stuffed it into my pockets as I hurried to take my bag.
My hands were shaking.
The door opened and he walked in.
His eyes swiveled to me and his grin, ever-present, flashed brighter as he walked towards me.
I walked back, eyes darting around, looking for another exit.
The windows!
They were open.
I ran quickly and he chased me.
My chest was beginning to hurt from the thudding.
I got to the window and pulled it open.
I pushed my legs out first when I felt a thug.
He was holding my bag!
I screamed and let go of the bag, scrambling away.
I was standing on a roof.
Without thinking, I jumped.


“What are we going to do!” The voice on the phone screamed at me.
It was one of my friends.
He just received a package.
I swallowed as I waited in the queue at the airport.
“You saw what?”
“Are you fucking deaf!!!! He posted the decapitated heads of his fucking brother and Clarence to me!! They are fucking staring at me right now!”
My head was aching.
Heads? He  cut off Clarence’s head? And his brother’s head?
“Look dude. Calm the fuck down and start getting ready to leave the city.” i whispered angrily, closing my aching eyes.
I heard sobs and realised he was crying.
“I’m scared! I’m fucking scared! It’s..It’s like he’s taunting me!”
I ground my teeth in irritation.
“Can you fucking shut up!” I growled. “You wanna die? Do you? Told y’all not to use that machine but no one listened! Now see!”
His sobs increased in intensity.
I sighed, running my fingers through my hair anxiously.
“Fine. You called the other two guys? Know if they’re alive or something?”
He muttered something down the phone.
He choked on a sob “Yeah. No answer.”
The queue moved a little and I advanced a few steps.
“Ok” i said finally, mind racing. “We’re going to assume they’re dead. You need to move out. The Psycho is probably watching your house so get set for some major slinking. This night dude. Meet me at our usual haunt. Gonna have to cancel my bloody trip because of you!”
“Thanks” he whispered
“Quick man!” I muttered and cut the call.
I moved out of the queue and rolled my bag out of the terminal.
I hailed a black taxi.
The trunk opened and i put my bag in. I closed, opened the car and sat at the back.

“Where would you like to go…asides hell that is?
I looked up startled, and saw the face, grinning at me through the mirror.
I screamed, hands instinctively opening the door as I scrambled out of the cab ungracefully.
His laughter followed me as I ran back to the airport terminals.
I kept turning back, trying to make sure he wasn’t following.
When i had run a long distance, I collapsed on one of the metal seats, shoulders shaking as my first sobs racked my frame.
“Are you alright madam?” a voice said beside me and I jumped up, startled.
It wasn’t him.
I shook my head, as tears poured down my eyes.
The kind man looked distressed at my misery.
He held my shoulders.
“Can I do anything to help?” he asked, his eyes wide with concern.
I nodded.
“I…I need a ride home”


Somehow, we made it to our haunt.
We were three left.
Eight of us were on that yacht, including our psycho killer.
He had killed four.
We were safe.
We felt safe.
Out of the city.
Almost a week and no contact.
The three of us decided to go to the bar; an unspoken celebration.
After several hours and several bottles of  downed Jack Daniels, we decided to call it a night.
We walked drunkenly into our room; we were sharing a room.
On the table was food.
“Did anyone order food or something?” I slurred.
The others shook their head.
There was a salad bowl and a transparent Tupperware  that had jollof rice in it.
There was another Tupperware.
I walked unsteadily and opened it.
I stared, shocked, at the decaying heads of my missing four friends.
The door opened and closed.
I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
I heard a shriek and a stumble.
“Trapped” a voice said.

My heart leapt out of my chest in fear.
My legs turned jelly.
I shook as I turned to see the psycho killer, standing in the way of our only escape route.
A moan escaped my lips and I quickly covered my mouth, tears beginning to form.
“Sit down! I brought food!” he said genially, smiling, pointing at the floor.
I buckled and fell, bum on the ground. The others huddled close to me.
We watched him as he went to the table, brought out plates and began dishing out food for the three of us.
“I actually cooked this myself you know! I felt killing you guys on empty stomachs would be quite inhumane” he said conversationally as he put plates, heaped with rice and salad in front of us.
He stared at our cowering frames.
We took that as our cue and gently moved towards the plates.
Hands shaking, we began eating.
He got the bowl that had the heads and sat down in front of us, watching us eat. He pulled out the four heads.
“These would be dessert” he said, as he lovingly caressed the heads.
I choked at this and he threw me an evil glare.
“Yes” he continued, eyes still on me “We are all going to eat one head and after that, I cut your heads as replacement.”

“Nice heads” i said suddenly, unthinking. “You really cut them up real nice”
What the hell was I saying!!
His eyes gleamed in pleasure.
“I know right!”
I nodded “Yeah. Your axe strokes are pretty neat. You used an axe right?”
“You can tell? Wonderful!” he said, excited and clapped his hands like a child.
Suddenly, his eyebrows furrowed “But I didn’t bring the axe for you guys though.”
“A knife would do” I whispered and he smiled at me “Yes! That would be perfect!”
The others stared at me, wondering if I had finally lost it.

“In fact, I know a place where I can get you a pretty sharp knife. Steel. Cool and sexy. I can go get it for you”
“Really! Yes! I want that! Very sharp?”
I nodded. “It can slice our heads off very very easily” I slid a finger across my throat to demonstrate.
He waved a hand at me “Go! Go! Quick! Go bring the knife!”
The others clocked.
As I got up and walked to the door, one of them said “I know where I can get another knife too” and without waiting for permission, got up.
Once my hands touched the door. I pulled open and began to run.
The second person tried to hold me back but I pushed him down. His shirt caught on the door knob and he frantically tried to remove it.
The psycho killer finally got what just happened.
I tricked him.
Fury was written all over his face, i bet.
I didn’t turn to look.

“I WILL KILL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!” He screamed and got up, chasing after me.
I ran out of the building. There was a fence that had a bush of some sort behind it.
I jumped over the fence and hid in the bushes.

I heard him jump in.
“I will kill you brutally” he growled as he looked for me. “I will cut you up and dismember you but you will feel pain. Pain!”
My body shook like a leaf as he neared my hiding place.
I heard his footsteps retreating and I let out a shaky breath I didn’t know I had been holding.
Suddenly, cold hands clamped on my shoulders.
“Bingo” he whispered in my ears.

I screamed…


And woke up.

Yup. That was a dream I had.
No, i did not go back to sleep after that. Was pretty sure that dream would continue.

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