Narrator's POV

The moon was the only source of light in the darkness of the night. James walked, hands in his suit pockets. He stopped to look at his watch, it was ten at night. A yawn escaped from his lips, he was exhausted. Cases upon cases. He deliberately left his phone at his house because of his mom's constant bugging with calls. He remembered he hadn't had a reasonable meal since morning. 

He was at the underground parking lot close to the court where he worked. All of a sudden, he remembered Eniola , his ex-girlfriend that he refused to get over. He knew they both wanted to work things out, but he was too busy likewise she. Every conversation on the phone always ended with an argument and he wasn't ready to mix his profession with a nagging girlfriend. 

James sighed, he knew he loved her. She was the only one that he could control and order about. But Eniola was always bugging him about his family, most importantly his mum and it irritated him. Hence their constant fights. James looked at his watch again and decided he would surprise her at her house with her favorite, chocolates. He laughed inwardly ,it was his birthday after all and he hated celebrating it. It reminded him that he was bound to the person he loathed the most. 

Eniola would first pretend to be mad, then she would devour the chocolates before falling straight into his arms. He continued walking. He regretted parking his car so far away. His legs had begun to ache. Then he heard footsteps, quick ones. He ignored it, hoping it was just the security guard. 

He reached his car and fumbled for the keys in his suit pants, he felt a shadow lurking round his car. His heart began to race in fear and panic. He held the keys in his shaking hands to insert into the keyhole but he was panicking and the keys dropped with a click sound. He reached for the keys, bending low and looking around for any attacker. 

He steadied his heart beat by putting his hands on his chest and panting heavily. But as he reached to place the key into its abode once again. There was a hooded figure behind him as he looked into the mirror, holding a fat stick. Before he could react, the stick had smashed his head and soon enough, he was spinning towards the darkness.


JOHN hit his leg against a huge tree, he didn't mean those words he said to his mom. He just wanted her to feel the power of hurtful words in her veins and she wasn't buying it at all. It was like she was stiff as a rod. He rubbed his head with his hands in frustration. He was walking towards the bus stop. When he got there, bus conductors were swooning around him like a king trying to gain his attention but he was less concerned, he only wanted to board a bus and forget his pain.

A young man dressed in a tattered jean pulled him by the arms nearly forcing him to enter his own bus but John was irritated. The young man smelt like a pig and his teeth were scattered and brown. The odour oozing from his mouth was unbearable and his overwhelming deep voice was as a result of drinking excessive alcohol. 

John tore his grip from his arms and said.

"Leave me alone!" 

And John marched towards the next bus that awaited him. He was oblivious of the glint of triumph in the eyes of the bus driver. The bus was crowded with mothers and children and a bit of foodstuffs. Most of them felt like market women as they were secretly counting the amount of the day's work. He muttered his location to the bus driver and searched for an empty seat. He saw an empty oil stained seat beside the bus window which gave him a perfect view of the road and he sat on it without concern.

The roads were lit with golden street lights and it made it look beautiful. John thought of his early days when he misplaced his pocket money given for lunch at school and his mother would beat him to the point that his skin would be covered in bruises and later on, she would clean it up while insulting and giving him the not so motherly speech. But if it were James he would be soothed like a spoilt brat. John sniffed. He was holding back tears of the past. He didn't want the women in the bus to notice a man crying. 

Hours later, he was the only one in the bus. He knew that it was very late as the darkness of the night was now prominent. He was hungry but he had to swallow his saliva. He was going to see his brother for the last time, he knew James would never let him stay at his place for even a minute. He smiled. He would give him the biggest surprise. He found out his location of his house when the prison wardens would throw bits of newspapers at his feet in mockery. The bus screeched to a halt and the bus driver stretched out his hands for his money. 

John dipped his fingers into his trousers pockets to bring out the five hundred naira he had on him. He gave the bus driver and started to come down from the bus. 

"Your house is stunning, why did you take this bus?" The bus driver said curiously. 

John was lewd with anger. Why couldn't he keep shut? His job required no speech at all. John slammed the door of the bus and the bus driver was left dumbfounded. John muttered some incoherent words as the bus zoomed off leaving a wasp of dust and dirt. If only the bus driver knew his predicament. 

John hissed and turned around. He hadn't noticed the stunning view staring right back at him. Now he understood why the bus driver was so nosy. The house wasn't like the normal brick houses. It was a duplex that had large glass windows that was see-through. There was no fence covering the beauty of the house, and a swimming pool was the centre of it all. John was perplexed and the only words his mouth could form was Bingo! 


JAMES stumbled back into consciousness, but his situation was complicated. He was bound with ropes at his hands and feet. His mouth was stashed with an enormous tape. He was completely tied to a wooden chair. He tried to wriggle free but he couldn't scream and hence produced gibberish sounds. He sucked in his environment carefully. He was in an uncompleted building littered with a mass of cement and sand and it only meant one thing. He had been kidnapped. 

The door flew open and his wriggling continued. It was very dark but the hooded figure blended into the darkness because he was dressed in black. James noticed the pestle in his right hand and he started to jump into the chair and his gibberish sounds became louder and rapid. The hooded figure walked up to James with a huge sense of confidence and he smirked.

"Welcome your Honor, Let's play!" 

Comments (4)
goodnovel comment avatar
Rehana Siraj
Thanks for this wonderful story. It's for both readers and writers. As a writer, I guess this story will help me to explore more. And as a reader of thrilling genre, it just makes me want more.
goodnovel comment avatar
Your comments crack me up and makes me happy!
goodnovel comment avatar
Oh my God???

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