Nobela ni Wisdom Nkwocha

Ian's POV Consciousness returned to me slowly - like a flower coaxed into bloom by reluctant sunlight. But with each sense that flickered awake, one truth became glaringly clear. I wasn’t where I belonged. As soon as my eyes adjusted and took in the world before me, my breath caught in my throat. “What the actual fuck...?” I was in a forest soaked in eternal twilight. Silver-leafed trees swayed in a gentle wind that whispered lullabies, and the forest floor pulsed with soft blue-glow moss. The light it cast was eerie, serene, and unholy all at once. My head shook on its own, disbelief pounding through my skull. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whispered, wide-eyed. Everything - the fog, the rocks, the fucking shadows - was moving. Breathing. Watching. Panic bloomed in my chest like wildfire. CRINNNNN. Images exploded behind my eyes like shattering glass. One. Two. Three... Boom! The dam of memory broke. Brenda. Figo. The train. Me. My heart thudded against my ribs a

Ian's POV Slowly, I opened my eyes, and the first thing that greeted me was the harsh sunlight pouring in from my left. It pierced my sight, forcing a wince as I hurriedly squinted. Wait. Morning already? Where am I? Last night… I was attacked. Brenda… she- My mind was still foggy, disoriented. Each attempt to recall what had happened only worsened the throbbing ache in my head. As I turned my head to the side, a hammer of pain pounded into my skull. "Hmmm…" I groaned, raising a hand instinctively. But my hands wouldn’t move. Panic exploded in my chest. I looked down, and my vision cleared just enough to see him - a hefty, cloaked man. A flash, like a clock’s pendulum, jolted my memory. It was him. The man from the alley. The one who attacked me. Only now, he was unmasked. His face was a map of horror - taut, unforgiving skin etched with grotesque scars. And he was strapping me into a wheelchair. "What are you doing?! What the hell are you doing?!" I screamed, h

Ian's POV I was walking down the alley. Night had already claimed the sky, and the atmosphere was mercilessly cold and windy. Tucking my hands deeper into the pockets of my woolly sweater, I exhaled. Smoke puffed out from my lips and dissolved into the air like ghosts fleeing the living. My ears stung from the biting chill, but that wasn’t what made me grit my teeth. It was her. “Sly bastard,” I muttered, heat bubbling beneath my skin despite the cold. Rage pumped through my veins like molten lead. When she flashed that smirk inside the bakery’s mixing room, I knew something was off. Brenda always smirked before launching her venom. And this time? She went nuclear - accusing me of stealing a hundred thousand dollars. Me! A man who’s never taken so much as a donut without paying for it. That girl… she wasn’t just toxic. She was a principality. A dark force sent to make my life hell. She sabotaged equipment and blamed it on me. Spread rumors like wild disease. Two months

Ian's POV The crowd closed in, their faces warping with judgment, disgust sharp in their eyes. A thousand whispers slithered through the air, each one cutting deeper than the last. “I knew it! He’s been acting shady all day.” “A poor, hungry, desperate thief.” “Thief!” The word echoed like a curse, bouncing off the walls and drilling into my chest. Mr. Barry’s polished shoes clicked across the floor like a slow, merciless countdown. With each step, my heart thundered louder, like it might crack my ribs open. My palms were slick with sweat, knees trembling as I tried to steady my breath.Suddenly, I remembered the video, Brenda, her guilty glances... Then it clicked. she was the one.Mr. Barry was still talking, threatening. “After today,” he sneered, pacing in front of me like a predator, “you’ll understand why people call me a no-nonsense man. When the police are through with you, you’ll-” His voice faded beneath the storm building inside me. No. Enough. I rose

Ian's POVIf exhaustion had a face, it would be mine.Evening had settled like a heavy cloak over Barry’s Bakery House, and I was still at my station, hands buried deep in soft dough, rolling out yet another batch of doughnut rings on the chilled counter. The hum of the ovens, the scent of yeast and sugar - it should have been comforting after a long day. But all I could think about was my aching back and how desperately I needed my bed.“Just a few more minutes,” I whispered to no one, knuckles pressing into the dough. “Then I’m free.”My body ached with the kind of weariness that seeps into the bones - raw, quiet, merciless. Even the simple act of stretching the dough felt like lifting a boulder. Sleep. Food. Silence. That was all I craved.Then the door slammed open.Samantha stormed into the room like a firecracker in heels. “Everyone stop working. Now. Mr. Barry’s downstairs. He wants to see everyone immediately.”No greeting. No explanation. Just that clipped tone she always use