Ifeoma
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."
"What dream?"
"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! :)
OOh, that was good. I really liked your story. It sounds interesting. I'm already waiting for next Monday. :)
ReplyDeleteOne suggestion though. Change the font back to normal in the first part. That way the reader will not suspect that it's a dream and it will be more surprised.
Thanks for sharing.
Hi, Athina. I'm glad you liked it. :) And thanks for the suggestion; I've applied it. You're right, the reader should be surprised. :)
DeleteThanks for stopping by!
Hmmm...kay Kay, well done. I love to read n have read lots of books n I have to say, dis is really good. Will be looking forward to reading more of ur stuffs. Good luck dear.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Omolara. Good to hear from you after a long time. I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
DeleteThanks for dropping by! :)
Yes, I was right there with the character jutting my chin out, refusing to scream or cry or beg. Awesome. I really thought we were going to witness this guy's murder. I'll be tuning in for sure!
ReplyDeleteHaha! :) Thanks, Robyn. Glad you liked it and will be tuning in for more.
DeleteThanks for reading! :)
What if begging would have saved him? How could he be sure what he wanted? This story is sick man. Very powerful.... The best from my boy!!!! I have marked my diary for next week monday. Ezike Nwadiuto
ReplyDeleteThanks, my Oga. Glad you enjoyed the story. However I think it lacked in showing that the narrator is a woman, but I'll fix it.
DeleteDo have a wonderful week! :)
Kaykay, this is absolutely brilliant!Please you shouldn't have stopped here--okay, I get it. I'm just being greedy. But then, I enjoyed this. It was a tight piece of writing with a well-knit ending.
ReplyDeleteHere:"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."---My favourite!!!
I'm happy I inspired you. I look forward to more of this.
Remember how I didn't want you to stop at where you did in The Masquerades of Inyi? Haha! :)
DeleteThanks a lot, bro. I'm glad you liked this. I hope not to disappoint in the next.
Happy Reading!
Kay, this was nice. Witty. That part of her not begging YET she was killed. Would have preferred it to be real, not just a dream IF I was a very sick person with sick tastes in writing. Nice one, Kay.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Christopher! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I guess with the kind of stories she hears about the killer, she knows there's no need to beg or scream...
DeleteThanks for dropping by! :)
Ah love it!!!...keep on wit d good work...
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you enjoyed it, bro. Thanks for dropping by! :)
DeleteWow! A very strong story in just 400 words - amazing! It's crazy how fast 100 words or 400 words go. I've done a couple of those 100 word Flash Fiction Fridays as you know, and I feel like I'm just getting started when really it's the end, lol. :D Thank you for commenting on my microfiction entry!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jennifer. Yeah, these words goes fast, especially when you have a limit, and before you know you're way over that limit. I had to remove the really unimportant stuffs before I posted the story.
DeleteThanks for stopping by. I'm glad you like it. :)