The 400-Word Story: The Beach Man #7

Ifeoma

I drop to the ground at once, my hands all over Peter, his head, arms, stomach, anything I can touch. But nothing happens. I close my eyes in concentration – maybe I’m missing something. 

Yet Peter doesn’t stir.

Tears roll down my face. He’s dead. Dead!

***
It’s almost midnight. Emeka and Chika sit across from me, in silence, worried looks on their faces. We’ve just returned from the morgue in the town and have informed Peter’s parents about his…death; tomorrow they’ll come and collect his body for burial.

“Wait,” Chika says, suddenly turning towards Emeka.  “What if he comes after us too?”

Emeka looks at me, frightened eyes mirroring the same question.

I open my mouth to say something, but my cell phone rings, cutting me off. I look at the screen, wondering who the unknown caller is, and then I press the answer button after a moment of hesitation.

“Hallo, sweetheart,” the deep, familiar voice says.

I freeze at once, and goose bumps appear on my arms. Emeka and Chika shoot me questioning looks.

“Leave me alone.” I say. “Aren’t you satisfied by his death?”

“Oh, she’s mourning an idiot who didn’t even love her.”

“Shut up!” I feel anger course through my veins. “I’ll find you wherever you are. I’ll kill you. I swear you’ll remain dead, forever!”

“I guess I’ll have to make this quick then,” he says with a chuckle. “Ifeoma, your boyfriend’s death was only the beginning of this night of torments.” The call ends abruptly.

Torments?

Before I can think about it, my phone rings again. It’s my youngest brother, Uchenna. Dread settles over me as I answer the call.

“Sista, Sista, our house is on fire!”

“What?”

“Fire,” Uchenna says, amid background noise of sirens and shouts. “Papa and mama are trapped inside. I can’t-”

Another call comes in just then, the number unknown. I quickly put my brother on hold. “Not my family. Please don’t do this to me.”

“Hear her, she begs like a baby now,” the killer says, laughing.

“Please I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Okay.” A moment passes and then he says, “I want you at the beach now. Consider yourself responsible for your parent’s death if you don’t make it in…ten minutes.”

I drop the phone at once. Behind me, as I race out the door, I hear Chika and Emeka calling me back.

But I ignore them.


Footnote: This is the seventh episode of The Beach Man, a 400-Word Blog Series.
Click HERE for the next episode.

Thanks for reading!