Curse of Erysichthon

T’is all Hallows Eve.

I would tell you a fearful tale as is traditional of this time but the night is cold, the jars of ale have run dry, I am taken with boredom and my mind wanders to memories of things bygone.

Permit me then, to tell you a different kind of story, one based on both truth and legend and born of the evil that lives in the hearts of men.

Pay attention, for there is a lesson to be learned somewhere within it. I know not what it is but of its existence, I have no doubt.

And oh, this is no simple child’s tale… It is Halloween after all.

****

Once upon a time, in the land called Kragi, there lived a King whose heart was as black as the coal mines from which his kingdoms wealth and sustenance was extracted daily. He was an evil man – known to execute advisors on a whim and have his own concubines impaled upon stakes on the flimsiest suspicion of unfaithfulness.

As it came to pass, the king, despite his many sexual trysts and conquests, had only fathered one child in all his 31 years since crossing into puberty. And this child, this daughter, was nothing like him. The more careless tongues of the kingdom said that the king had birthed his own antithesis. Some said that his dearth of offspring and the great chasm of difference between himself and his daughter were evidence that nature had resisted proliferating any of his cruel genes and when forced to yield, she had done so reluctantly, giving him a creature that was as different from him as possible. Some said he had sold his virility to a tar pit demon in exchange for power and wealth. A great many things were said of this king but the only one upon which there was unanimous agreement was that his daughter was absolutely nothing like him. As with all strange things, the evil king came to love his kind daughter with a violent passion. It was clear for all to see in his eyes when he spoke of her. She was never far away from him and whenever he had cause to travel, she lacked for nothing in his palace.

One cruel day, while the sun scorched the people of Kragi and the king ventured out to inspect the mines, a servant by the name of Griori decided to inflict an evil injury upon the king in payment for the  years of thankless toil and unmitigated suffering. You see, Griori was the child of one of the Kings concubines who had, in her spare moments, lain with a kitchen slave. It had displeased the king greatly when he discovered that he was sharing her pleasures with a one of his subjects. The king had ordered the kitchen slave to be dragged through the streets until he was nothing but a mass of peeling flesh and raw muscle. The concubine had been spared for she was pregnant but once Griori was birthed, and his parentage ascertained as being decidedly unkingly, she was drowned in boiling tar while her son became a slave boy in the king’s kitchens. Griori had suffered more than most for the unfortunate manner of his birth and had finally decided to end it all in one fell swoop of liberation and cruel vengeance.

He snuck into the princess’s chambers under guise of bringing food for her afternoon meal and once he was within, locked the door to the chambers with a concealed chain, leaving her personal bodyguard outside, struggling to get back in to protect his charge. Griori quickly drew his knife and slit the throats of the chambermaids before pouncing on the princess herself. He removed his bottom garments and forcefully entered her, thrusting into her virgin hole with all the repressed violence in his spirit. It was a cruel rape, and the screams of the princess rang out through the palace as she was violated repeatedly in punishment for her father’s wickedness. Griori did not spill his seed into her when was done with the first assault, he turned her over, carved his name into her back with his knife and rammed his still-stiff penis into her tiny, dry anus with such force that she began to bleed. He continued to thrust into the undersized hole with even more force than which he had used to take her maidenhead. After another few minutes, he finally turned her over again, almost lifeless, and returned himself into her womanhood until he finally spilled his seed into her, his grunts becoming louder than her screams. By this time, the entire palace was in an uproar and the princess’s personal guard had summoned a battering ram to break into the sealed chamber.

When the guards finally re-entered, they found the princess naked, lying on the floor bleeding from both orifices in her crotch, her back and her mouth, from which only whimpers escaped. There also was a manic Griori, pacing up and down the room, knife clutched firmly in his hand as he laughed and sang

“Kill me, Kill me, but she cannot accuse me. Kill me, Kill me, but she will have my baby”.

He was seized bodily, beaten violently and dragged to the dungeons to await the return of the King while the other guards took the princess to the palace physician. It was only when they reached the physician’s quarters that they finally realized the extent of Griori’s cruelty for the princess was now without her tongue. They drew lots to decide which of them would be forced to give their monarch this terrible news.

When the king returned from his mine inspections, the guard who had drawn the short straw began to tell of the incident that had occurred a few hours earlier. As he spoke, the eyes of the king begin to burn with a blue fire but he did not speak until the story was done.  When the guard concluded, the king walked quietly to the physician’s quarters to confirm the truth of what he had heard. When he saw what was left of his precious child, he closed his eyes, turned around and walked to his throne silently. He sat upon it, placed his hands upon his head and let out a wail. It was a terrible sound, like the death cries of a once magnificent creature wallowing in newfound misery. He had the guards shut the entrance to the throne room and remained there, alone, weeping. No one in the palace slept that night for the cries of the king sent terror through the spines of all who knew him. The king had never wept before and they feared that once his pain was exorcised, he would ignite a conflagration of terrifying revenge, burning everything and everyone that he could ascribe any measure of blame to.

They were wrong.

Griori woke up the next morning in the most severe, unidentifiable pain. He could not move any part of his body except his head which he rotated around to take in his environment. He was in a dank, dark room with no illumination and a great mass of mould growing on the ancient brick walls. As he mentally tried to identify the source of his pain, the rusty metal door of the room creaked open and a man in a white robe walked in carrying a tray. Griori could tell from the smell that the tray carried cooked meat, prepared with the trichorican sauce that the king favoured. As the man in the white robe came closer to him, Griori realized that he was being served by the king himself. He saw that his chance had come and so he spat out the thing he had kept concealed in his mouth since he was dragged from the princess’s chambers – her tongue. It was his final insult to the man he loathed and the completion of his revenge.

The king, in his white robe, glanced at the partially masticated tongue on the floor of the room and turned back to Griori before placing the tray just below his head, within reach of his mouth. Griori was puzzled.

“I will be back in seven days…

…to take your other leg and cook it for you myself”

He turned on his heel, opened the door and Griori finally began to realize where the pain he felt was coming from and what his punishment was to be as a cold fear seized his heart.

“You will resist at first, I know. You will recoil at the thought of eating it, but when starvation, pain and desperation gnaw at the heels of your sanity, you will set aside your inhibitions and consume yourself. I do not doubt this. I only wonder how long you will last…”

He paused brieflybefore continuing.

“…and how much of you will be left when the end comes.”

He smiled as he left the room, speaking as he did.

“Next time, I will make sure that you are awake for the removal of your next meal”

As the door was shut, Griori began to tremble, his eyes locked on the tray of what had been his leg. Tears began to leave his eyes of their own volition and he shook visbily. He had been prepared to die for his revenge but this…?

This was a fate worse than death. It was a devils curse.

 

Home Alone

The whole town knew about how Temi’s relationship had failed tragically, and how it was the reason she’d moved back home from the city to live with her parents. Of course, we weren’t supposed to know, but people talk in a small community like ours. Always. She tried her best to adjust, and, for the most part, did a pretty decent job transforming from big city girl to a small town lass. What I couldn’t wrap my mind around was how she could cope knowing all she’d left behind in the city.

Her job, her friends, and, more importantly, the sex. She must have had some sort of sex life in the city, and I can’t imagine how she could have given it all up. Bringing a man home to fuck her brains out definitely wasn’t an option with her parents prying and judging her constantly. This forced celibacy was driving her crazy, and I could see her frustration.

As usual, Temi was home alone on a Friday night. Her parents were out of town for one reason or the other, and I wondered why Temi didn’t just take advantage of the situation. But, like I said, people talk. The thought of having my sex life used as a coffee table discussion topic would send shivers up my spine if I was a spoiled city girl. Anyway, she decided to watch some porn that night to ease what I’m assuming must have been a whole lot of pressure. She settled for one with two hot blondes in a 69, eating out and fingering each other. As the soft moans drifted out of the TV, Temi started squirming in her seat. It wasn’t long before her hand slid down into her pink sweatpants.

Temi watched hungrily as the girls on the screen pleased and teased each other with their tongues and fingers, her own dainty digits working eagerly on her clit. She bit her lip as her orgasm started to build, and her legs clamped tightly around her fingers. Temi slid her sweatpants down and pulled hard and fast at her tender clit. Finally, she fingered her pussy feverishly and let out a barely audible gasp as her orgasm overwhelmed her.

Hidden behind her bedroom door, my cock was as hard as a rock as I watched this little vixen shudder where she sat, unaware there was an intruder in her house. This was one of the few times I was pleased to live in such a small town. Everyone is so trusting and free with information. Imagine my glee when Temi’s parents informed me they would be out of town for the weekend. Of course I had a spare key, being the one who tended to the pets and flowers in the absence of the residents before Temi’s arrival.

I’d been watching Temi for a while now, patiently waiting for my shot at her. Her gorgeous body teased me every time she went by me. Being neighbours with her had begun to feel like a curse. Needless to say, my heart leaped for joy when I learned her parents would be absent for an entire weekend. Temi may not have been one to seize an opportunity, bit I always took pride in my ability to make adequate use of every opportunity presented before me to get something I want. And I desperately needed to fuck this sensational creature.

Getting in was a piece of cake. I simply waited for Temi to leave for the market in the morning, and then her parents left shortly after. I let myself into the house and spent a delightful amount of time going through her room. When I went through her underwear drawer, I felt like a kid at a candy store, holding up every piece of lace and cotton fabric delicately against my face, and inhaling deeply. They smelled like detergent and fabric softener,and I tried to imagine what they smelled like right after she’d taken them off. I found a pretty, soft pair and wrapped it around my cock. Imagining her kneeling before me, her soft lips around my dick, my dick deep inside her throat, it wasn’t too long beofre I’d covered the fabric in a thick load of cum.

A few more hours went by as I lay on Temi’s bed fantasising. Finally, I heard her come in and hid in her her closet. I watched through the slightly ajar door as she came into the room and started stripping herself of her clothes. The sight of her breast pleased me beyond words as I watched her examine her ravishing body in the mirror. After about two minutes, she pulled on a skimpy tank top and a pair of sweatpants. I wrestled with my primal urge to have her there and then. But only because the thought of watching her a bit longer excited me.

Watching her from the dark doorway, my cock throbbing, I had a clear view of her on the couch. Her hands moved slowly against her pussy, eyes closed, as she came down from the high of her orgasm. As if I wasn’t hard enough, Temi pulled her fingers from her pussy, lifted them to those tempting lips and sucked her nectar from them. I swear, I almost lost it then. But she stood up from the chair, pulled her sweats up, and started heading towards the door. Quietly, I retreated back to my hiding place; making sure to leave the closet door slightly ajar. Only a few seconds after I had settled into place, Temi walked into the room and once again began to strip. This time, however, she took her time ogling herself in the mirror.

My eyes explored every inch of her luscious body they could take in as her hands rested on her breasts, her fingers tweaking and squeezing her nipples. ‘Perfection’ was the only word that came to mind. Her hands journeyed down her tummy and paused between her thighs, still glistening from her recent orgasm. She teased her mound for a bit, and then turned around to stare at her ass over her shoulder. One hand gently caressed the soft cheeks, and my eyes and mind did their best to take in as much as possible before my cock started doing the thinking.

My heart started pounding like a drum as Temi turned towards the closet and made her way towards me. I was hidden, but the closet wasn’t big enough to completely take my entire frame. I knew she would see me as soon as the doors opened. Her hand reached for the doorknob and I knew that would be my one shot.

The doors flew open, and then her eyes followed suit as I lunged at her. Before her brain could process what was going on, I grabbed a tight hold of her, spun her around, and held her against me. A hand quickly found her mouth and covered it, and the other trapped her against my masculine body, squeezing around her arms and body. Knowing she could feel my hard cock pressed against her through my jeans sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins.

I have to admit Temi was a fighter though. She tried to kick me and kept squirming around, trying to free herself. I almost lost my grip a couple of times, but I managed to shove her onto the bed and buried her face in one of to pillows to keep her quiet. I was on top of her, and one hand was trapped beneath her body, keeping her arms from moving. Her struggling only served to make my cock harder, as it nestled between her ass cheeks.

Pressing my mouth against her face, I grunted into her ear “Shut up and stay still, bitch. You can only get hurt this way.”

That didn’t stop her though. The little cunt actually squirmed so much she somehow managed to turn her body over beneath me. She stared up at my face, and I watched the realisation that her assailant was her next door neighbour set in. “Get off me, you perve!!”. My hand flew back over her mouth, and she tried to bite the inside of my palm. Suddenly, her knee came up, and I just barely managed to move out of the way before it made contact with my balls. Needless to say, I was infuriated by this.

I slapped her clear across her face and watched as the stun of the blow chased the last fight out of her fragile body. Her cheek was flaming red, and I knew it must have stung. I just wanted her more. I placed my hand over her mouth again, readjusted myself on top her.

“I told you you’d get hurt. Now, we both know how this night is gonna go. All you need to do is ask yourself how hurt you want to get.”

Her body relaxed a little, but she still tried to wriggle away. Reaching behind me, I pulled the wrist restraints I had brought with me out of my back pocket hoping it would help me control the situation a little better. Balancing myself on the edge of the bed, I flipped her body over again and pulled her hands behind her back. My strength made sure her weak struggling came to nought. It was difficult getting the restraints on with one hand still over her mouth, but I pressed down on her ass with my knees and managed to secure the cuffs.

“Okay. I’m getting off you now. Scream and I’ll hit you even harder. Hope we’re clear.”

Well, the message seemed pretty clear to me, so I stood at the side of the bed and just watched her for a while. She just laid very still, probably trying to come up with a plan of action or something cute like that. Meanwhile, her sexy body kept calling to me. Her hands rested gently on that delicious-looking ass, and the side of her boob kept trying to peek out from beneath her. I imagined it beckoning to me in a tiny, elf-like voice, whispering to me to come have a taste. I watched her body rise and fall with her deep breaths as she rocked on the bed, trying to turn herself over. At first, I was upset by this blatant disregard of my instructions, but then it occurred to me that having Temi on her back might give me a more interesting view. Placing one hand on her knee and the other on her shoulder, I quickly flipped her so she was face-up. As gratitude for helping her out, she glared at me. This mysterious life. I helped myself though, getting drunk off the vision of her exposed body. Her full, perky tits looked like they were waiting to embrace me, her nipples taut and surrounded by a tight, wrinkled areola. The stirring in my pants was becoming unbearable.

I took my time examining every ridge and curve of her body. The hair around her pussy was trimmed neatly. Almost like she’d deliberately shaved in that triangle patch leading down to my ultimate prize. Her lips were still glistening with some traces of sweet juice from the little show earlier. For months on end, I’d been thinking about burying my head in that pussy and just going to town. I knew this was it. The moment I’d been dreaming about. Grabbing her legs, her pulled her down towards me and placed a leg on either side of my hips. Of course, Temi started struggling again, so I grabbed her ankles and pushed her legs up until her knees were pressed against her chest. I leaned forward and let my chest hold her legs in position so I could undo my pants. I felt a pause, and I looked down to see Temi glancing at my hands on my zipper.

“Anxious, aren’t you?” I said, flashing her a cocky grin.
She quickly shifted her gaze and mumbled “You wish.”, and then much louder “I’m going to stab you in the neck when I get the chance!”
“If, honey.” I corrected.

Sex, where I’m concerned’ has always been boring without a little fire. Some slapping, biting, maybe even a whip. What Temi didn’t realise was that her defiance only fuelled my desire. Quickly, I unzipped my pants, pushed them down to knees and then wiggled out of them while managing to keep my weight on Temi. I couldn’t help but notice how transfixed by my cock she was. I’m a reasonable 6 inches and quite thick, and my cock was fully erect. I’m not entirely sure, but she might have even licked her lips.

Maybe I just imagined it. The same way I imagined sliding my cock between those soft lips. However, her pussy was still predominant in my mind. All my fantasies of feasting on that slit just kept replaying in my head.

I pushed her body back on the bed a little and leaned over her. “I’m sure you’re gonna love this.”.

Finally, I got us in a position that allowed me hold her legs back and still keep my face in front of her pink pussy lips. The view was to die for. Her lips were puffy and swollen, and her clit was bulging out at me. I had a clear view of that tight little asshole too, and I instantly got excited about the third hole I would be exploring that night.

“Fuck you!” Yet, even as she screamed at me, I’m sure her knees pulled up closer to her chest without my assistance.

Without wasting any more time, I traced up the entire length of Temi’s cunt with just the tip of my tongue. She tasted better than I’d ever imagined she would. Using my tongue, I ran a few circles around her clit and heard her let out a soft “Oh shit.” in response.

A quick glance at her face showed me how much she liked it. Her eyes were shut, and she was biting her bottom lip. I slowly traced up her slit again with my tongue, taking care not to penetrate. I was still testing the waters, gauging her reactions. So far, she seemed to have lost all interest in fighting. Again, I drew circles around her clit, took the swollen nub between my lips, and then sucked it into my mouth. I felt her shiver beneath me as I teased her with my tongue, and her hips started bucking against my face.

She let out a string of curses as her body betrayed her and gave in to the pleasure. She could pretend she didn’t want this, but her body had been starved for so long, and the lust had taken charge.

One hand slipped between her legs and across her butt cheek, and then my thumb found that tight butthole. Still feasting on her clit, I rubbed and teased the tight hole gently, sending electric waves up her spine. With every flick of my tongue, Temi’s defences crumbled a little bit more, and her deep moaning indicated I didn’t have to wait much longer.

“Fuck!” Temi moaned as her orgasm drew closer still. Moving my mouth just a little against her pussy, I nibbled on her clit just a little. That did it. Temi’s bucking got more urgent as her orgasm ripped through her and I placed my mouth back at her slit, thrusting my tongue inside her pussy as her sweet juice flowed from her body. My free hand moved to rub her tender clit while I feasted on her pulsating pussy. The more I ate her cunt, the more aggressively her petite frame thrashed beneath me. I felt like a starved Hyena devouring its eagerly anticipated prey. I continued fucking her pussy with my tongue while grinding at her clit with my finger. It wasn’t long before a second, much more intense, orgasm rocked her body. Her pussy lips clamped tightly around my tongue with each probe.

“Fuck!” She was practically gasping for air now. “Please. Stop. I can’t!”

I could understand how having three intense orgasms in such a short time could weaken a person, so I decided it would be logical to let her rest a little while. I mean, it was gonna be a long night.

INSECTA

I reflexively look at my watch.

19:00

I’ve been sitting in my usual corner at the bar for over an hour. Not too far from the main bar, so I can see the patrons there clearly enough, but at a certain angle such that the lighting of the room is subdued around me, adding a nice touch to my features. It’s been a slow night. By now the place is usually at least three-quarters full and bustling with banter and shouts. I don’t mind though, the night is still young.

I order a third round of my usual; double shot of Jack Daniel with Coke. As the waiter walks away I survey the crowd again. A gentleman walks in. He’s definitely not one of the regulars, I would know. He walks over to the main bar and settles on one of the long stools. I assess him carefully. About six feet, give or take a few inches; fairly broad shoulders; muscular enough not to be flabby but not enough for him to be a magazine cover model for Shape or Men’s Fitness; a confident gait, the kind of a man that is perfectly comfortable with his body and knows how to use it; African, his face is averagely good looking, the kind that makes you smile but doesn’t leave too lasting an impression. The kind of description that would fit several men if one might need to describe it to say, a police artist. Just the way I like them.

I bide my time. I’ve been doing this long enough to know that approaching him now would attract too much attention. Better to wait, my position and the fact that my eyes are on him are enough to draw him in. Nature is a funny thing you know. All animals know when they are being watched. It’s almost like there’s an in built alarm system that alerts them when they are the focus of something’s attention. All animals are also drawn to danger. Curiosity pushes us to want to discover what lies seemingly almost beyond our reach. That same inherent curiosity and of course lust, a very heavy dose of it, draws them to me. And so I wait, because I know eventually he will turn and he will notice me.

Like clockwork, he turns and the first thing his eyes set upon is me. Our eyes meet and he smiles. White teeth, made even whiter because of the contrast with his skin, I see two dimples waving at me. It’s a warm and confident smile. The smile of a man who is confident in his ability to get what he wants. The smile most of them give when they notice I’ve been watching them. It’s a smile that implies “I know what you want and I’m down for it.”

He saunters over with his drink in his hand and pulls up the chair beside me.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were eyeing me like I was your dinner”

Deep voice. Crisp English with the slight hint of an accent; exotic and sexy.

I smile in return and reply

“You’d make a fine meal, although I don’t think you’re enough to satisfy me. I have a reputation for being rather voracious.”

He laughs.

“I’ve heard that line before; famous last words. The night usually ends with the speaker exhausted and crumpled on the floor asking why they took on such a challenge.”

“Challenge you say. I accept then.”

We both drain our glasses and get up to leave. Standing beside him, I notice he’s slightly taller than I estimated. He oozes confidence and now lust. Phase one is complete. We make small talk as we leave the bar, many more patrons coming in to fill our spots.

Phase two complete. I get up from the bed, pausing to look at his sumptuous glistening body spread eagled on the bed in a supine position. His boast was not a bluff. He really did fill me up and then some. I almost feel sorry to have to finish such a beautiful specimen. A part of me wants to keep him. Such meals should be dined upon again and again. But that would be against my ethic and such weakness might lead to sloppiness. I creep to the bathroom to retrieve my “toy”. I pull open the dresser and pick out my gloves. The serrated edge glinting, I smile at my reflection in the full length mirror as I put on my “claws”. The smile fades as I notice some scratches on my thighs. He’d gotten carried away as I rode him the first time, grabbing my legs and drawing blood, the lust in his eyes was furious. Tying him to the bedposts had solved that problem, and so the second time as I rode him with my back to him, all he could do was grunt and buck his hips like the horse I was making him into. It was amazing.

I pad into the bathroom as quietly as possible, hoping to check that his wrists and legs are firmly bound before I begin my real feast. But immediately I see his open eyes I know something is wrong. He should still be asleep. They all sleep soundly after we’re done. Four full rounds is enough to subdue most; five for the really fit ones with immense endurance. He took me to the sixth; never happened before; another reason why I’d love to keep him. Yet here he is, awake. And that look in his eyes, even with his wrists bound, he’s still oozing confidence.

“I know what you are.”

I’m startled by this statement. I play dumb

“What the fuck are you on about? We barely spoke six sentences to each other. You don’t even know my name.”

“Oh, but I do. At least I know what we call your kind; Creoborter also known as the Flower Mantis.”

Shit!

This wasn’t how this was supposed to go down. I hadn’t been sloppy. I hadn’t noticed anyone unusual looking at me. No singular face stood out. They had all been non-regulars, most of them likely to be migrant workers in the area. The kind no one would take notice of if they went missing.

The bastard now had that smile of his plastered on his cute face.

“All predators recognise their kind. You were too self-absorbed, that’s why you didn’t notice that you’d been followed home from the bar for the past 3 weeks. Sad, really. I kind of had respect for your ability. You’re beginning to go numb in your legs aren’t you? It happens very suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere. In a few seconds you won’t be able to stand.”

He’s right. I notice that I can’t feel my legs anymore. A few moments later I fall to the ground. He gets up off the bed and walks to me. What did he do to me? This can’t be.

“It’s the venom from the Eucratoscelus longiceps”

The look on my face shows I don’t understand a word he’s just said.

“The common name is African redrump, it’s a tarantula. It’s liquefying your insides as we speak. I warned you you’d be on the floor asking yourself why you accepted the challenge. Farewell mantis. You were a thoroughly delicious meal.”

It really is the end. The predator has become the prey.

There Here

I look at you looking at me
The glow radiating from your face
Emanating from the smile I have placed there
Using my thoughts, expressed as words, and my actions
A smile that is reflected on my face
And in my engorgement
Twitching and yearning
Down below
My hands are happy to see you too
They show their excitement
Like little pups
Tails a-wagging
Frolicking and gamboling
Under the table

You’re here but you’re not
Near but far
Your face inches away from mine
Yet miles apart
For a moment, the smile in your eyes flicker
And then wink out
Instinctively,
My hands shoot up from their stroking
To touch your face instead
Or the projection of it
A tear drops
Cold and wet
There
My fingers stay warm and dry
Here

I love you
Incompletely
For now
I love you with my words
And with pictures
And that is all
No smells, no touch, no taste
I cannot love you with my actions
Not yet
But by jove, I will
Someday
But until then
I shall mentally stimulate you
Make you want me
Like I want you
Fierce and hard

BUZZ!!!
PING!!!
Are you there?
Clakkity clak
I can’t hear you
Can you hear me?
*sigh*
You’re breaking up
I can’t hear you any more
Oh look, it’s getting late
I guess you have to go to bed now
Plus my battery is getting low
Wait, send me a picture before you go
Something to remember you by
😉

Inbox (1)
Ooh, sexay!
Barbara is typing…
“Send me one of you too”
Missile incoming!
}:D
Your message has been sent
You got it yet?
You haven’t?
That’s weird, it’s been 5 minues already
Let me check in my sent items

Uh oh
Babe, we have a problem…
It appears I sent it to your mother

Qisas (قصاص‎) pt1 ‎

Shihādah” شِهادة

(lā ʾilāha ʾillà l-Lāh, Muḥammadun rasūlu l-Lāh)

There is no god but God, Muhammad is the messenger of God.

 

I had already laid out my mat when I heard the first call to prayer. I washed my face, mouth, nose, ears and beard first; the cold water caused my body to shiver ever so slightly. I washed my hands as far my elbows, then my feet up to my ankles.  I stood in front of the mat as I started to pray. A tear rolled down my cheek as I said the takbir “allāhu ‘akbar” (God is Greater).

I had not always been a believer. There was once a time when I considered a life of Christianity. That was when I still had her. We met in 1999; we were both freshmen on the campus of Ahmadu Bello University. She was a theatre arts major and I was studying to become a civil engineer. She was a small, delightful creature; five foot, six inches of smiles, charm and grace while I was big, awkward and clumsy at six foot two. She was the daughter of wealthy devout Baptists and had been raised in the faith and in relative luxury. My mother had died giving birth to me and my father joined her shortly after my sixteenth birthday. I had been raised on the charity of the community ever since.

We were best friends and lovers for five years before we finally got married. She risked everyone to be with me, even her parents. I remember when we travelled to Lagos to meet them. I had been overwhelmed and a bit intimidated by their wealth. A car had picked us up from the airport and taken us to their town house in Ikoyi. Her parents had not been informed I was coming with her and barely knew anything about me yet they were hospitable. All that changed when we informed them that I planned to marry their daughter.

 With my arms still raised I continued to pray.” Subhaanak-Allaahumma, wa bihamdika, wa tabaarakasmuka, wa ta’aalaa jadduka, wa laa ilaaha ghayruka .

Her mother suddenly looked as though she were about to shed tears. Her father tried to keep his cool but it was obvious he was a little more than disappointed in his daughter’s suitor. I pleaded with them to give me a chance and even promised to attend the Baptist church if they’d let me officially court their daughter. Her father had not even honoured my plea with a reply, instead he turned to the one I loved and said simply:

“I’m sorry Tolani, we cannot approve this. He seems like a decent fellow but he’s not a believer. We’re not going to discuss this any further.”

 a^cūdhu bi-llāhi min ash-shayṭāni r-rajīm

I had turned to Tolani expecting to see rage or at least some form of frustration played out on her face but I didn’t. Her face was plain, a mask of flesh that hid her feelings underneath. Her next words shocked not only me but her parents as well.

“Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness? Ahmed is a just man, an honourable man, a kind man. The kind of man you would be proud to have as a son. The kind of man you would come to like if you could see past his name…”

“That’s enough Tola! I will not have you speak…”

“Well I am not done speaking father. You talk of fellowship yet you advise me to not be with one who shares the same values, goals and ideals that I do? You call him and unbeliever yet he believes in me!!! Doesn’t that count for something?”

“If you press this matter anymore I shall disown you Tola. I don’t care to be disrespected in my own home. I shall not have him as a son in-law and that’s final”

“Well congratulations father, you have just lost a daughter.”

 

subḥāna rabbī al-^caẓīm (“Glory to my Lord, the Most Magnificent”)

The next time Mr Odunlami would see his daughter would be at her funeral.

I remember like it was yesterday. It was just another Saturday night; I had come late after a long drive from Abuja. My job usually required me to travel away from home for short periods. At the time we had been working on developing a low income housing estate around the Gwarinpa district. I had been gone for three days straight and was absolutely exhausted when I got back.

I remember how beautiful she looked that night, wearing a pale pink jalabiya her face freshly washed and hair pulled back in a bun. She had always been gorgeous but she’d been glowing ever since she got pregnant. Halima, the maid, carried my bag off to the room while Tola set the table.

“I was just about to call you to find out if you were still coming home today.”

“You think I’d spend another day without the mother of my child?”

“Ha Ahmed, so that’s all I am to you now? A baby maker?” she replied with mock indignation. The look on her face was priceless. She’d stopped working as a lecturer’s assistant at the university at the beginning of her third trimester but she still found other ways to put her acting skills to good use. Tormenting me was one of them.

I smiled as I reached for her, my arms gently circling her waist as I planted a soft kiss on her lips.

“Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck. How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! How much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices! Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.”

“Someone’s been reading the bible a lot lately…” She was obviously pleased about this. “Why is it only verses of love you choose to remember though?”

“Is it not said that God is love? Would it not be wise to start with the heart of the matter?”

We went on like this, taunting and teasing each other till the wee hours of the morning wherein after gentle but still passionate lovemaking we fell asleep in each others’ arms. By the time I woke up it was about noon and she had already left for church. I chided myself for not waking up earlier to go with her, my body must’ve been more tired than I had thought.

I was just about to get into the shower when I noticed the notification light on my phone blinking. I figured she had sent me a message asking me to come pick her up from church or  something of the sort. It wasn’t her.

I had received a series of broadcast messages concerning a bomb going off in a church on Ahmadu Bello Way. I unconsciously held my breath as I read the words; there were two churches on that road, ours and another protestant church. I started to feel dizzy and almost passed out before I remembered to breathe. It couldn’t be our church, no…not with my wife and my baby there.

I quickly grabbed the keys to the car, not worried about the fact that I was still in my pajama  shorts and a singlet. I had to find out, I had to know. She had to be alright.

I drove like a madman through traffic up until I got to the beginning of the street where a horde of parked cars and onlookers made it virtually impossible for me to drive through. I got out of the car with the engine still on and started running. I shoved my way through a sea of people drawn to the disaster, choking back the fear in my gut. I could see the smoke rising in the distance and I could already smell it. Not the mixture of concrete and burning rubble, no; the smell of death.

My heart was pounding against my chest when I finally got to the building; First Baptist Church, our place of worship. It was then that I lost control. I half ran half stumbled towards the rubble. A group of security personnel and rescue workers had already cordoned off the immediate premises. As I tried to cross the barrier they’d set up I got tackled by a police officer. I kept screaming my wife’s name and struggling to break free before I felt a sharp pain at the back of my head as another police officer knocked me out with a baton.

As I crumpled to the ground, my last thoughts were of my wife, and that day in her parent’s house when she’d fought for me.

She fought for me.

God And The Jury

The other principalities beheld with genuine puzzlement, the newbie that had let the constituency of existence fabric kept under his watch burn.

His name was God, and he’d undergone the required education for an eon which was basically one forever. “One forever has always been enough to get the greenhorns headed in the direction,” they all thought to one another without employing their lips;  “Who let things destroy themselves after living for once without beginning or end?” Wouldn’t such a being have lived long enough to experience all the combinations of the possibilities under their purview?

God beheld the older ones without much regard for them. They would never understand his motives. He walked straight up to the bench where a jury of his colleagues had been called together to give ear to his defence before another creation could be entrusted to him to replace the one they said he’d wasted. He doubted that his defence would be enough to convince them to let him start anew.

There was one called Ka, who would lead the panel of geezers at the golden bench with mono-syllabic name tags hovering over their heads like wispy smoke halos. The bench was plush with wine coloured cushions and short, bushy trees –  much too green – danced around them, swirling in a dreamy, circular riot and shedding lime coloured leaves that fell and became nothing  only to fall again. There was no floor beneath them, no sky above them and no wall to hang pictures of their favourite memories on. It was just them and the stage Ka had chosen on a blank canvas devoid of any background colour –  something that humans can never understand. It is this canvas even, that eternity is painted on.

They were all without clothes, the younger God and his elders but they did not look naked in a human sense, neither did they look majestic. If one could behold them in a three dimensional world, one would look upon them as one would look upon a swan, out in a quiet lake in the wilderness.

Ka knew God and God knew him – to say that they saw each other would have been an insult, for principalities are not bound to the limits of human senses. They acknowledged each other. And the same thing happened simultaneously with the three other principalities.

Ka was curious really, something like this had never happened if there was really something as ‘not ever’, but he could never ask of God “why” for on this panel, one does not question another. “Tell me” was all that was possible. For the sake of the others, he’d asked “Tell us”. He made a decision to find God later for his own personal enlightenment. This wasn’t the place.

God told them by letting them know the parts of him that needed to be known for them to understand. Out in the vastness of God’s domain there had been mainly nothingness. This nothingness as it were, had been God’s own challenge to conquer. Mu, the lightning- horned principality that sat next to Ka had contended with overbearing abundance – in one word, excess.  She had shaped and carved and hollowed out for eons till some order was achieved and sometime after order, some beauty.  Xi, who was the mathematically cuboid being at the opposite end of the bench had contended with random noise. Xi’s domain now was something akin to a well chorded space –  a symphonic string of universes that was far from done. At least, they’d had something to work around. God had been given nothing.

And then God had created. First a yes, then a no. Then he’d built everything on it, even uncertainty which was neither a yes or a no. But domains take a literal forever to build and he’d had to continue giving of himself eternally into this barren universe. Until he’d accidentally discovered change. God had learned that one form could become another so instead of injecting more of himself into the blend, he instructed the elements to evolve this way and that way until there were a few clusters of sentience. He isolated the most deserving of these clusters and injected a more drastic frequency of his own substance into them until they developed into smarter proponents of change. But in the end, too much change led to chaos and everything burned. Almost everything.

It made some sense.

Ka was excited but he sealed the emotion away in a distant part of him. In a part of his constituency no one could ever find, there was a purple universe and in that purple universe, it rained and plants grew. Meteors collided and stars burnt brightly.

Then the meeting was done. The panellists unanimously decided not to give the younger one another constituency to waste. They decided however to give him loose fabric to patch the gaping black holes under his watch and tend to them carefully until they healed. It was a reprimand of sorts because holes healed so slowly, and God would have to meticulously care for his ward, watching over the stitches for almost twice as long as he’d existed. This was the only way creation could be projected onto the canvas once more without falling through.

Then the jury became nothing but the stage remained.

God understood but he was displeased. With the other principalities gone, God did not bother locking up his anger in a sealed compartment of himself. All over the place, stars died and planets disintegrated. There was ice where there once had been water and an ailing existence, hung on pitifully, begging for its principality’s anger to recede.

Ka knew God and then his anger ceased.

The stage had remained after all. If Ka had been gone, the stage would have been gone as well. God laughed but flowers could not grow for too much had been destroyed and only further destruction was possible.

“I am Ka. I would let you know me”

“I shall not”

“You’re too young. You do not know yourself”

“True”

“The Ka particle is precise.  It is measurement and weights and scales and readings. My domain is perfection. I was given confusion and I have conquered it. There is no chaos found in me, no uncertainty. It is what you need”

“It is what I need”

“Know me, and my eons shall be yours and yours shall be mine and what shall be, it shall be a masterpiece”

“Know me, Ka”

And there was a union. There were no colours, no explosions, no noise, no light, nothing that required particles to vibrate between a yes and a no.

But it was beyond perfection, what there was, it was impossible.

Us Three

“Let’s go Marie. It’s getting late and this is a bad part of town.”

Marie sat on the sidewalk as her two best friends stood and watched her. The rain had reduced to a drizzle and her blue tee stuck to her wet skin. She needed to know what to do with the situation and fast.

“Go? She’s not going anywhere. She needs to see Pete and explain what is going on.”

“But Pete isn’t around right now. He’s gone out.” Ramona’s voice was strained and Marie knew that she was trying to keep her anger under control. Ramona was the good best friend, the one with a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. She was pretty, soft-spoken and very kind. She would always have good things to say to Marie and always made her feel good.

Justin kicked the soda can on the floor and grunted. He was not angry, just frustrated that his orders where not being adhered to. He was the rebel, the bad angel, the cool kid you wanted to have around you. He always had negative comments and made Marie feel less of herself. Ramona disapproved their friendship but Marie loved Justin and kept him around. He had her under his thumb, edging her on and pushing her into doing things she normally wouldn’t do. Once Marie got hurt, they would fight but in the end, she always took him back.

“Justin, what should I do now?”

“Sit your ass down on the sidewalk and wait for that bitch ass nigga. You need to talk and explain yourself to him. You need to get your fucking point across.”

“Justin! Don’t speak to Ramona like that! You need your mouth washed out with soap.”

“Soap? Na, I need me some booze.” He turned to Marie who was sitting on the wet sidewalk.

“Gimme some cash, need some whiskey.”

Marie dug up some money from her pocket and gave it to Justin. As he walked away, Ramona sat next to her on the sidewalk and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Look Marie, I know you have strong feelings for Justin and you want to do everything he says but this is not a good idea. It’s cold, the rain is picking up and Pete doesn’t look like he’s coming back any time soon.”

Marie looked over at Ramona and sighed. She really wanted to leave but as Justin said, she needed to talk to Pete and explain herself to him. Once she cleared up everything with Pete, she would leave.

“Oi! Ramona! Don’t be giving Marie any stupid ideas! She stays here!”

Justin was back and swinging a bottle of whiskey wrapped a brown paper bag. He looked furious and sexy all at the same time.

“Fine. I’ll just stay and watch how everything goes down.” Ramona said.

Justin smiled knowing he had won this battle. He plopped down next to Marie and offered the bottle of whiskey to her.

“Take some. It’s cold out here and it will give your body some warmth.”

Ramona looked on and said nothing as Marie took the bottle and took a swig. Her eyes watered as the burning sensation hit her at the back of her throat and filled her belly with a nice warm feeling. She coughed a little and Justin laughed at her.

“Amateur. Don’t worry. Pete will be home soon and we can get this sorted out. Then we can get you home and put you to bed.”

“May I ask why we are waiting for Pete? I was not there when this incident happened. Justin, fill me in please?”

Justin took another swig of whiskey and laughed.

“Well, I was with Marie at the office. We were talking about what we were going to do tonight. Marie wanted to watch a movie but I wanted to go gambling. We were having a little spat when Pete entered.”

Justin took another swig and stood up.

“Fucking didn’t want any piece of shit disturbing me and Marie so I told him off. Told him to get out of the fucking office and that me and Marie were having a little fight. Nigga started looking at Marie all funny and called her crazy and shit. He called Marie crazy! Can you imagine that?”

Ramona looked back and Marie and saw Marie had become angry. She was on her feet now, pacing the sidewalk, muttering to herself. Her eyes were frantic, darting from object to object as her lips moved inaudibly. Ramona walked up to her and tried to talk to her but Marie pushed her away and Ramon landed on the sidewalk.

“Marie, what is your problem? You could have hurt me badly!”

“I don’t fucking care Ramona! No one calls me crazy! That fucking little dick called me crazy! Who the fuck does he think he is?”

“Marie calm down …”

“No Marie, Don’t calm down! Don’t take any shit from anyone! Pete called you crazy! That makes you mad right? That makes you fucking angry. I didn’t even want you to come here and ‘explain’ any BS to him. If he calls you crazy, then you show him crazy! Tonight, we will show him the real Marie! You hear that Marie?”

Marie and Justin were face to face now, looking into each other’s eyes. This is why Marie loved Justin, his brazen ways and antics pulled her like bees to a flower. She wanted to experience life on the other side, the side of no rules and no cares. And Justin was the one to take her there.

Marie closed her eyes as their lips met. The kiss was intense as they bit on each other’s lips and drew blood. They parted and Marie used her finger to clean the blood that tricked from the cut on her lower lip. Just planted another one on her cheek and laughed.

“Been waiting for you to do that bitch. Finally got some balls. Now let’s get up and cause some chaos.”

“No Marie. Don’t do this, don’t listen to Justin. Don’t do what he says please.” Ramona pleaded.

“Ramona?”

“Yes Marie?”

“Shut the fuck up and move out of my fucking way.”

Justin laughed and kissed Marie again.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

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

“Tell us again what happened”

“You think this is fucking funny, Andy?”

“Nah. We’re just finding it difficult to understand how all three of you got knocked the fuck out. Your stories just aren’t adding up.”

“I already told you, she was bat shit crazy. Fucked up in the head. Same as that other time in the office, babbling and shit.”

“Hey Petey boy, take a look at Smalls and Franco over there. They’re fucked up pretty bad aren’t they? Smalls is bigger than all of us put together and Franco’s one cold ass muthafucker with that switchblade of his once you’ve got him angry and shit. If you three are going to tell us your ex-bitch single handedly…”

“Well, she wasn’t really alone…”

“I’m sorry?”

“That was Justin, I think. And then there was Ramona.”

“Now who the fuck is Justin?! Those two punks over there say it was just her and now you mention a… Yo! Franco!! Who’s Justin?”

The look of raw fear that crossed the faces of the two other battered boys made Andy pause for a moment in dread. Turning back to Pete…

“Who’s Justin, Pete?”

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

Pete looked down at Marie, his sweet Marie, in utter disbelief. His feet wriggled around desperately trying to find the ground as his mouth opened and closed silently in answer to questions that had been asked. He glanced behind her at the two crumpled heaps that were his friends and figured he didn’t want to attempt to defend himself lest he got thoroughly beat up like them. Marie’s face was contorted grotesquely as the muscles in her arms rippled from the weight she held up. His weight. She asked in the most masculine voice…

“Why did you leave her?”

“L-Leave who, Marie?”

“Don’t be an idiot, Pete. Why did you leave Marie?”

“Marie?…”

“Yeah, Marie. Your girlfriend of a few months now? You broke up with her two nights ago. Surely you remember her…” She gestured with her head behind her and a little over to her left. Pete saw noone there.

“B-But you’re Marie…”

“No, I’m Justin. We met the other day at the office, remember?”

Pete’s mouth had begun to do that gaping-fish thing again when Marie/Justin’s head suddenly swung to the left and in the most adorable voice he’d ever heard said…

“Justin, put him down. This doesn’t solve anything. You’re only going to get Marie hurt this way.”

Marie/Justin’s head suddenly swung back to face him.

Guttural, masculine voice, “Shut up Ramona, I know what I’m doing”.

Facing to the right. In Marie’s familiar voice “Yeah, shut up Ramona. Leave this to us, okay”

Looking up at Pete again, in Justin’s voice and with a very sinister smile, “You fucked up pretty bad, Pete. Now Marie and I are going to fuck you up real good. Isn’t that right, girl?”

And his very bitter Marie said “Amen to that.”

For the first time in his life, Pete passed out.

40

Life can be very mysterious and death, even more so. It’s the mystery of death that makes it so intriguing, so exciting, so unpredictable. I think it was one of my favourite rappers that said “people fear what they don’t understand, hate what they can’t conquer…” How very apt.

He sat at his usual table; The one close to the windows, from where he could view the cars as they sped home to one or more family members after a long day at the office or wherever it is they had been. He often wondered when he would have that sort of life, have someone to go home to. Not tonight though, he must have thought as he gulped down what remained of the drink in his glass. It had become a sort of routine for Nonso to come to this bar on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, relax with an expensive bottle of red wine and stumble out afterwards in search of some lady of easy virtue to spend the night with. Nonso was a top executive at Santi & Santi Construction, up until he was discovered to have falsified the accounts brilliantly and stored up for himself a large chunk of the firm’s earnings.

I really don’t blame him you see, the rains had started and I had only suggested he save for the rainy day.

If you could venture into Nonso’s mind as he sat there at his favourite table, you would discover that he wasn’t just looking at the cars and wondering, he was also remembering. Yes he was remembering from whence he had fallen. You see, Nonso was quite the collector; He had the vintage cadillacs and Bentleys in his garage back in the day and these were just a fraction of the automobiles he had. No he wasn’t robbed, he didn’t have his vehicles impounded by the government, Let’s just say he made an investment and it was time to pay.

“A promise is a debt, and a promise unkept could lead to death.” Don’t bother googling that or seeking out who coined it, beloved Google doesn’t have all the answers, trust me. I digress…

It’s really not as bad as it seems, afterall the bottle of vintage wine is proof that Nonso is doing a bit well for himself. Having that bottle at least twice a week must be a luxury that he can afford? Or isn’t it? Having expensive tastes can be quite… expensive and Nonso wasn’t about to allow his craving for the good things of life dwindle. To his ‘benefit,’ he had a tab with this bar to which he added all his purchases. What they didn’t know was that he couldn’t afford the paper on which his debt was recorded, how much less the payment.

Where am I going with all this and how did Nonso get here? Calm down, read on and you might just learn a thing or two.

Nonso wasn’t always one to patronise the hot girls that stood under the neon lights. Matter of fact, he once had a girl who was the cynosure of all eyes and the envy of many. Kate was her name. She had flawless skin that glowed and eyes that stared deep into your soul. Her lips held secrets that your lips wanted to hear and her hour glass shape must have been the prototype when creation was created. Oh and she was Nonso’s, up until that night when number four was struck off the list. He looked at his glass, probably hoping he would see her through it, walking into the bar with a smile and a “Happy birthday” on her lips.

Twenty three years earlier…

“…and I sha.. I… I… I shall keep the secrets of this society an.. and.. take them to… to… to the grave…” “Read out that line again before I slap you, idiot!” The words barked out of the mouth of Ringo were like thunder claps and the seventeen year old boy shuddered again as he did as he was told amidst teary eyes and snort dripping nose. He still wasn’t sure how he got here; this was an innocent Matriculation party just minutes ago and now it seemed like a scene out of some Nollywood movie. The slap that his face attracted jolted him back to reality. “READ OUT THAT LINE AGAIN!!!” Nonso would swear an oath of secrecy and eventually be furnished with details of membership of “the Diablo.” It wasn’t just any other cult; they didn’t involve themselves in campus violence or any such things. This was a strictly sacrificial society; ensuring that the storehouse of meat never ran dry. As their motto stated: “…that there be meat in the storehouse.” There were benefits of course and these were listed…

1. Prosperity in business and Stupendous wealth
2. Property
3. Protection
4. Beautiful partners…

The list went on and on and ended at number 40.

Number 40 was blank.

It was on number 40 that Nonso had appended his blood smeared thumb print.

I was there Twenty three years ago. Matter of fact, I’d been here long before all of this. I’ve watched Nonso and the others rise to the zenith of their careers and eventually plummet all the way down into nothingness. It really is a beauty to behold. Lots have gone before him, all of a sudden just wiped off the face of the earth like they never existed. You see, the agreement was clear (or so I thought) but I guess the slaps and tear filled eyes do not exactly aid clear vision. Our motto is “…that there be meat in the storehouse.” Our storehouse cannot be empty and when this seems to be the norm, something has to be done.

No, don’t start thinking I’m the Devil. God forbid. How evil and vile. Have you forgotten so soon how I contributed to where Nonso is today? It was I who suggested he save for a rainy day, it was I who caused his path to cross Kate’s. It was even I who eventually struck her name off the list. Yeah, number 4 had to go because, hey, meat was needed.

I’m watching Nonso sip the remnants of his drink and I smile to myself. Whoever said “the things you don’t know won’t kill you” is probably dead out of ignorance now. Ringo and all the other guys who were members of this cult have breathed their last. All going down the same path, having all they had taken from them till they became shadows of themselves. It was an agreement marked in blood and as such, much more sacred than any other. Nonso had exhausted his 39 benefits. He had agreed to leave this earth on his 40th birthday. He just didn’t know it.

Number 40 was blank.

His blood was shed on that number. That day. Today.

He put down the glass and stumbled out into the night…

I’m just a collector.

The Bridge

Friday, 12^th of October 2011

Chief Temitope Sijuade’s Residence

I love this room. It is probably the only one in this entire house that I have to myself. I picked out the furniture myself; the only room where I was allowed to do so by my wife and her overpriced decorator. They had argued with me for a long time till I threatened to withhold her cheque (imagine the idiot, trying to tell me what I can and cannot do in my own house). It is supposed to be my study but lord knows I hardly get any studying done here. A tall bookcase covers one end of the room; it is filled with books from all walks of life, from philosophy to architecture, politics to acupuncture. I like bringing a few of my close friends here to have them marvel at my collection of first edition paperbacks and hardcovers. It shows them how intellectual I am; not like they need any more reason to respect me after passing through my car collection in the garage and the exquisitely furnished living room to get here.

This is where I come to rest after a long day of meetings and deliberations at the office or the state house. I can take off my shoes (more like get Akpan to take them off really ) and sit back on this wonderful couch and forget about my troubles for a while. At times like this I can close my eyes and shut out the world. No one disturbs me here.

“Oko mi, these construction people have started again oh.”

Sigh. Well, almost no one disturbs me here.  I had not heard my wife walk into the room. Didn’t she have anything better to do like shop for new clothes, plan holiday trips or think up new ways to spend my (not so) hard earned money?

Monday 21^st October 2011

Good morning ladies and gentlemen:

I’d planned to speak to you today to solicit support for the Democratic People’s Alliance in the upcoming elections, but the events of earlier today have led me to change those plans. Today is a day for mourning and remembering. Today is a day we put aside our individual agendas and come together as a people to mourn our brothers, fathers, uncles, colleagues and friends.

Rebecca and I totally shocked and pained to the core by the tragedy of Kama-Oke Link Bridge. We know we share this pain with all of the people of our country. This is a great loss, not just to Kamanda Construction Company but to the entire community.

“Which construction people again?”

“The bridge people now. I can hear the sound of their equipment from my bedroom and I’m trying to watch the Ellen.”

“Can’t you just turn up the volume?”

It is with a heavy heart and the deepest of regrets that I announce the closure of the bridge that was supposed to connect the Kama and Oke districts. The bridge was conceptualized with the intention to reduce the traffic congestion at the Julius Berger roundabout and expedite the distance traveled to reach the expressway by serving as a shortcut for drivers.

The bridge was also to serve as an avenue to improve businesses and increase profits for everyone, as the Kama district has a popular market named after it, a popular hotel, a church, school and fuel station all within the range of two kilometers from the bridge. There was also supposed to be improved road construction to compliment the bridge as well as check the erosion occurring within its general vicinity.

“*sigh*. There’s really nothing I can do about it honey. My powers as District Chairman are limited. Besides, the construction should be completed in about six months or so.”

“Six whole months? Tope you must be joking. You and who is going to stay in this house all day listening to such noise?  Irό o, I won’t have it.”

All in all, the bridge was a positive addition to our community. Every morning for the past ten months, the bridge was the first thing I’d see when I draw my curtains. It felt reassuring to see the daily progress of its construction and equate it to that of our community. Its completion and unveiling were events that I personally looked forward to. However, fate determined that it would not be so, as you can see behind me.

“Calm down honey. I am just as opposed to the building of the bridge as you are. Dr. Arogundade is using it as his ace-in-the-hole to win the people on his side in the upcoming elections. Do you think I like to be reminded every day that I am losing the gubernatorial race?”

“Then do something about it. Arogundade is working you are here sleeping, o ma sѐ o. If I didn’t know any better I would say you didn’t want to win these elections sef.”

According to the damage reports, there was an accidental explosion at the pillars supporting the bridge fifty meters in both directions from the middle. The dynamite was to be used for blasting rocks at the river bed to allow for smooth water flow. According to reports, the explosion was too close to the surface, making it destructive to the structure itself. This caused the structure to come crashing down, killing several construction workers.

I cannot stress enough, how much of a tragedy this is to all of us, not just structurally and financially, but also the loss of human life as the others are replaceable. I pledge right here and now to compensate the families of the victims as a small comfort to help ease the passing of their loved ones and also make a donation to replace some of the lost equipment to also expedite the reconstruction of the bridge. All these are at my personal cost, apart from my government’s official relief response.

I find it to be very tragic that this bridge was to be the flagship to kick off Dr. Arogundade’s foray into politics and that this incident has occured near completion. I offer my sincerest condolences for his loss and encourage him to not give up on his efforts, for a strong man is he who rises again after falling.

“Oya I’ll think about it. Don’t worry, just manage for now ehn.”

I also stand firmly behind him in support of his good character to decry the dastardly rumors being peddled by ne’er-do-wells. Claiming that he sabotaged his own project to undermine my government and garner public sympathy is in poor taste. Again, I stand firmly behind him and gladly welcome him as a worthy rival in the forthcoming elections. I will always put the people first and will respect their choices.

Vote for me again as your Governor and I promise to bring peace, prosperity and progress to the state! Power to the people!

As the District Chairman, I remain your humble servant, Chief Temitope Sijuade.

Thank You.”

Dei Infinitum

“Aspirat primo fortuna labori!

Me duce tutus eris.

Sum vox populi, Sum vox Dei!”

(Fortune smiles upon our first effort!

Under my command, you shall be safe.

I am the voice of the people, I am the voice of God!)

Nestor spoke with such carriage and confidence that his battle worn, dirty and dulled armor seemed to shine as though polished by his words.  The soldiers in our battered army raised their voices unto heaven at his declaration, inspired by their small initial victory and Nestor’s bold declaration. It seemed that in that moment, they truly believed we would not be vanquished. All the air around us vibrated with their battle cry. Nestor’s horse reared up violently as he dug his spurs into its flanks before  charging wildly at the oncoming Thenari infantry, the sun behind him. There was a brief pause as each man weighed his faith in Nestor against his fear of the Thenari juggernaut but eventually, faith in Nestor tipped the scales and our army surged forward. From my vantage point, high above the melee, our army looked like a reversing droplet of rain: the bulk of us in one round bulbous drop, the bravest of us in a thinning oval with the fatter end connected to the bulk of the drop and the thinner reaching for Nestor, a solitary trailing droplet.

I did not move. My eyes did not leave Nestor.

As the reversing droplet of our forces finally came within firing range of the Thenari, Nestor drew out a migami spear, and holding on to the reins of his mare with one hand, flung it with purposeful malice into the center of the Thenari vanguard. The spear planted itself in the chest of a Thenari spocltye who fell from his horse with a muted cry and was trampled by the metal wheels of his advancing comrades. We had drawn first blood! Hope surged in my heart. But the smile that had registered within me was still struggling to  find its way to my face when I saw something that forced the smile to retreat hastily. The droplet became a stationary sphere as the rest of our army saw what I saw and stopped dead in their tracks. Nestor, still charging forward, drew his mako energy sword.

He had only managed to raise it above his head when he too stopped suddenly. The moment that followed seemed to last a lifetime. I have been wondering if in that final moment, Nestor still believed he was the son of god.

The moment just before the Thenari teleforce cannons let loose a salvo of disintegration missiles. The moment just before Nestor, the self-proclaimed son of god and king of Jerusaelem, was reduced to nothing but polarized ions and orphaned electrons. The moment before entire battalions of our army were reduced to their elementary particles as thier comrades began to scatter to the four winds in fear just as the Thenari Forclytes took to the skies and started to rain fiery death from above.

The moment just before I turned on my heel and fled for our hideen fortress in Daemascus – the city of the dead.

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

In the beginning, all was well.

Well… Perhaps not well, but at least it was stable. There was a kind of peace and we had some measure of order. We co-existed even though there was a class of our people who suffered. You see, in 2094  – two years after our second world war, the Thenari had come to our planet. They had come, they said, to help us rebuild. To help us regain some measure of pride in ourselves and most importantly they said, to rid of us the disease that plagued us – religion. They came to teach us the gospel of rationality, the glory of logic and lead us into the kingdom of true knowledge and wonder. It was they who showed us the gateways to the six directions of space. It was they who showed us that we were but one version of reality. That reality was not one but an infinite number of simultaneous existences and just as the universe was expanding, so was reality. With every action of every sentient entity, another reality was birthed.

I know it is difficult to comprehend at first. Let me put it in simple terms.

According to Thenari science, whenever you are provided with a choice, in your mind, you make a decision and move on. But what happens of a truth is that you do not actually make any decision. The universe fractures and two realities proceed with each event having occurred. The entire universe is just like an extrapolation of Schrodaenger’s cat – existing in an infinite number of states simultaneously. Some of these states are unstable and collapse into themselves. Others gradually die out as the sequence of decisions converge toward annihilation. Still, in all six directions of space, at every point of decision, for every sentient being in every version of existence, there is a reality which is shared by a given group of beings – a reality matrix. The Thenari taught us these things and showed us some of these alternate realities. They showed us their own home-world in their reference-point version of reality which was virtually the same as our planet. They operated a thriving democracy made up of hundreds of nation-states. All working together and run collectively by one body, the one they called the United Nations. Their United Nations, they explained to us, chose a reference reality every 3 years in order to maintain cohesion.  They explained to us how many of their kind had waged war in times long past  over the same gods and prophets we had so recently slaughtered ourselves over. Krishna, Jesus, Orgo, Mohammed, Buddha… they had all believed in these prophets as well and died in droves for them. Until they adopted rationalism.

Our leaders were captivated.

We quickly shed our old gods, rejected our prophets and adopted rationalism. We rejected anything that was not based on a pre-agreed set of logical axioms – under the supervision of the Thenari. And then we set to the task of rebuilding our fallen planet while they sold us their technology in exchange for our planets abundant resources. We manged to rebuild something worthy of being called great, while simultaneously ignoring a silent, growing problem.

Until the coming of Nestor.

Nestor first reclaimed the hearts and minds of the people of the slums. The people of the streets. The ones whom reason had left behind. You must understand, the rational economy was built on the ability of an individual to be useful to the greater society in his chosen reference-point reality. This usefulness either manifested as the creation of knowledge, product or service. The inability of an individual to provide any of these meant exclusion from functioning society.  Pure rationalism does not allow for charity or any sort of social service. It scarlely tolerates kindness. In one of Nestor’s most famous ‘sermons’ delivered from atop of the ruins of the forbidden city – what used to be known as Jerusaelem, he asked of the multitude gathered:

“What do the productive and responsible members of society owe the unproductive masses who have nothing to offer except need?”.

“Nihilum!” (Nothing!) He further declared.

“They will exterminate them when their rationalism demands it of them! Only god offers solace to the poor and the unproductive, for he created them! Only god speaks for the people! Solus Deus loquitur populus! Solus Deus loquitur populus!”

He then proceeded to engage himself in a monologue which eventually became a scripture to the wretched and downtrodden.

The unproductive and the weak whose minds could not adjust to the Thenari and their new revelations flocked to Nestor. They were an overwhelming multitude. It was not long after this that Nestor declared himself to be the son of god and the Thenari to be demons from hell. Agents of Satan’s ultimate deception he called them – the ultimate trick to convince us that there was no god. This final declaration won Nestor the following of not just the unproductives but all who had struggled with comprehending six-dimensional space and accepting that not only were we a just small part of an infinitely large universe, but our universe existed in what was only one reality of an infinite number. A great deal of our people rejected this relegation of their own importance in the grand scheme of things, they wanted to be the apple of a god’s eye. Even if this god existed only in their imaginations. Nestors followers grew exponentially.

It was not long before Nestor declared war upon the Thenari. A war of emancipation to expel the Thenari (or the ‘Humans’ – as they called themselves) from our planet Gaia-thos once and for all.

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

In Daemascus, I flashed my credentials at the guards and they waved me through quickly even as I told them of Nestor’s demise and that the Thenari would not be far behind. After clearing the 18 levels of security we had put in place, I finally reached the core. I was not supposed to be able to activate the doomsday device on my own but no matter how tight the security system, its creator always leaves himself  a way back in.

The room was empty, all our leaders were in the strategy room, three floors below. I entered the sequence codes and pushed the detonation button.

I was instantly reminded of verse 32 from Chapter 11 of the Bhagavad Gita as the erstwhile silent LED monitor burst to life with a loud hum, the alarms began to blare and the countdown began.

“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds”

10

Now, I wonder what it would feel like to be sucked into a gravitational field 13 trillion times more powerful than that existing in any black hole ever recorded. The TRITON-3 will set off a fission of anti-matter so powerful, it will generate infinite gravity concentrated at one point. The resulting singularity event will expand, swallowing suns, drinking entire solar systems and spreading like a wild plague – consuming galaxies whole and annihilating at least half of the mapped universe in our reality.

9

I wonder if Nestor was right. If there is a heaven of some sort. Streets paved with gold and a benevolent god to greet me as his child.

8

I also wonder if Nestor was just an unwitting stray traveler from another alternate reality which he chose to interpret as a heaven. Perhaps he was not a liar, perhaps he just never saw the big picture.

7

I begin to realize that I am not sure what I will achieve by setting off the TRITON-3.

6

If the Thenari were right then space-time will simply diverge, this reference reality will be destroyed and another reality will be created…

5

One in which the TRITON-3 never goes off. One in which I never came here. One in which, the Thenari take over our planet. In that case, nothing I am doing really matters.  Nothing I have ever done has ever really mattered at all.

4

If Nestor was right…

3

Then I will either go to a heaven or hell.

But Nestor is dead. He can’t be right. Can he?

2

I have no idea what happens next…

1

Time to find out.

…