The night was cold, very cold. It was a night she had wished that her husband would be home , both on the bed after their night shower; she, swallowed by his warm embrace, the breeze escaping his nose flooding her body with goose pimples as it tickled her, facing him and watching his lips moved as he professed his love for her. She would smile; her mouth arced into a half moon shape, the kind of smile that would make him call her, “Utum.”
I was home alone. We just moved into this creepy neighborhood. I had recorded some strange events since we moved in. Mom and Dad won’t believe my observations. They would always put up a flimsy explanations. “You need to be taking your medications regularly my boy,” I remember Dad told me when I said some one rang our bell, but I could not see anyone by the door when I got to see who it was.
The draughty old dormitory was unusually ghost-quiet this night and the night has been blanketed with darkness. In the stillness of the night, it was only the howling sound of the wind that was heard. The students had slipped under their blankets to wade off the unpleasant streams of cold air. The wrecked windows have taken time to refurbish.
The night was dark. The air was cold. The winds whispered secrets no one would hear. In the depths of the night, four siblings huddled together in a room, trading stories to frighten themselves, as they enjoyed the solitude and the chills the night gave them. Clutched to her big sister Ada, was little Ody, a doe-eyed angel shaking with fear as she begged for the stories to stop but couldn’t seem to stop listening. Ebuka, the third born, sat cross legged on the bed they were all huddled on as Obinna, the second born, began his tale.
David suddenly jerked awake. He wasn’t sure why he had woken up, but he had. He looked at the digital clock beside his bed and saw 3:14. It was still early in the morning, and he would have to prepare for school in a couple of hours. Oh how he wished it wasn’t a school day. He could do with a very nice break and go play ball with his friends. He still needed to use style and injure Kunle for what he did last time—
Were they kidnappers or ritualists? She doesn’t know, at least not now. She had tried to understand why they were abusing her this way. She has been with them for 48 hours now and they are yet to sold her away to their customers or kill her for money rituals.
A Night at the Office (1out of 2) Remind me again what am doing here? I murmured to myself as I tried to unlock the main gate leading to the office where I work, yes I am indeed here because I forgot my drugs but it’s almost 10pm and I am quite aware. But you know if you skip one malaria drug the rest you took is useless,am not sure
I’m a woman; a very terrible woman. No! Don’t think me mad. I’m sane enough to know what I’m saying. I have done terrible things. I’m a disgrace to womanhood. I have never represented womanhood in a very good light. I’m a prototype of wickedness and infidelity. They said that Jezebel was the highest wicked human being ever lived. But believe me when I tell
“So… you came…” my father said to me. I shrugged. “They called. I answered,” was my curt reply. My father looked at me, his once ebony skin the colour of faded parchment… no doubt thanks to the cool temperature from the mortuary and the lack of blood circulation. His eyes were near whites; I could make out the boundary of his irises by the faint black ring in the corneas
The more I advance into the thick darkness, the more reason have not to go back. I could only hear my foot steps, which from time to time had tricked me into thinking that someone was trailing behind me. Some thoughts flashed through my feeble mind. “A man was snatched of his vehicle. He and his entire family was in the car. And when he resisted their attack, they shot him in the hand. Everybody who heard the gun shot ran more into their hidings because it was night and the path is always lonely and quiet at this time of the day,” Nkechi had told me when I went to visit at her house the other day. “Which path are you talking about” “Are you a knew comer here?” She moved closer to me so that should could speak in a lower tone.
It all started one night at a bar called The Gbadun. Simple enough place really… you come, drink, maybe watch TV or chill with the other patrons, play some snooker or, if you can, find another person to play table tennis with. It was your typical bar that didn’t involve loud music and ludicrous raunchiness, which was pretty much my speed, I tell you. I like The Gbadun a lot, you know. It’s not so hip, and it’s not so razz. Just right, like the last bed that burglar Goldilocks slept on after spoiling the poor bear family’s house.
Centering with the weekly meetinng of the Board of Directors Of the NCT Television Network. #Fiction#Comedy Its a very funny Story i strongly recommend you start with it its Been Updated on Weekly Basics. By Chika Phylix Ptrs
Bimpe Discovers that her mom's death and that of her brother was a murder Plot By the Church Pastor and Elders of the church, but they framed it to be a demonic attack She Starts A revenge quest and is determined to kill them all. Written By Our very own Chika Phylix Ptrs