The killer doesn't lift his eyes off me as he grabs the dagger on the table. His feet barely making any noise, he ambles towards me, watching with fascination as I struggle in vain to free myself from the ropes bound around my wrists and my feet. I cannot scream; he’d tied a gag too tight against my mouth, and the cloth smells faintly of blood. When I close my eyes again, a flash of memory rushes briefly through my mind. I see myself, Peter, Chika, and Emeka sitting around the fire, near the beach, listening to the old man tell us the story of the beach man. As we returned home that night, Peter had said, “False story! Only meant to keep people off the beach on Sundays.”
Until the killer grabbed me from the beach, I never believed the story, even though I found myself sympathizing with him as the story was told. If the people hadn’t killed his wife, he wouldn’t have come back to terrorize them.
“Any last words?” the killer’s voice, a deep evil sound, brings me back to the warm hut.
I open my eyes, terrified. I look at his eyes – lifeless eyes, malevolent, all white. Eyes of a devil. The sneer on his scarred face as he unties the gag makes whatever sympathy I’ve had for him to fade away. I can tell he loves his victims to beg, to cry.
But I will say nothing. And I won’t cry. I will give him no reason to enjoy my death.
I hold my breath as he raises his hand, and my eyes catch the final view of my life: a dagger reflecting the light of the candles. With one quick thrust, the dagger penetrates my stomach and pain explodes inside me. I feel another thrust, then another, and another. Then I feel nothing again. Before I am pulled into a deep darkness, I hear the sound of my killer’s cackle.
Peter crouches in front of me when I open my eyes. He is tugging at my hand. ‘Go and get dressed! It’s almost time for the concert.’
I shake my head. A shiver races down my spine and I hug myself hard. I can feel a slight pain somewhere near my stomach.
Peter frowns. "What?"
"I had the dream again."
"The beach man, Peter! He spoke to me this time."
Footnote: This is a 400-word story, the first of its kind on this blog. I was inspired by the 100-word story on Uzoma's writing blog. I wanted to write a 100-word story too, but I couldn’t stop myself from writing more after I surpassed the 100-word-count. Now I’ve decided to continue the story as a series, which would appear on this blog every Monday. I hope you enjoy it!
* Click HERE for the next episode.
Thanks for reading! :)