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The Guilt of a Dead Conscience (Chapter 2)
He had been on the good business for years; so, killing, beheading, kidnapping, robbing and doing the usual assignment was not a new deal for him. This time he had succeeded cutting open an innocent pregnant woman, and doing away with her pieces of gold. It was a great feat since he started his profession, the highest gain of his humorous professional skills. His conscience had been buried years ago beneath the grave of his diaphragm, and the centre of his heart replaced with carbon dated stone. There was therefore no sense of guilt in any action he took; thanks to the secular world that has annulled the burden of morality and religion in the society.
It's about five months but he had not been able to sell the gold because of fear of police investigations or getting arrested by the EFCC (Economics and Financial Crimes Commission). The immense connection he built for years with his professional colleagues was the only key to open his new door of success. He began to make steps on how to sell the gold, with medium scale expectations; little did he know the price of gold had spiked in the international market for the past years. When the illegal buyers arrived to exchange Naira for the commodity, the cost of just half of the total carat he stole was enough to take him over the moon. It was then he knew his cruel action worthed the gain he was about to savour.
It took not up to 30 minutes when he received alerts flooding in from his local bank account. This time the alert had changed its tone to a more weighty sound. Behold, it was millions of Naira; the amount a senior civil servant in his locality would not earn for a life time, he got in just a blow. For him it was good to choose a good profession that cost no stress but brought great benefits.
His emotions got fluctuated with lots of excitement and thoughts on where to spend his maiden 'card'. He felt he was hungry, so rushed he to the newby burkateria to have some food. On arrival he settled the okada that took him with huge some. His body was shivering in excitement as his eyes got wet by moist tears of joy. He ordered for fufu and afang soup (the traditional soup of Ibibio/Annang tribe of Southern Nigeria made with Ukasi leaves). The soup tasted delicious but he felt abnormal as though something was wrong somewhere. Then he ordered for white soup extremely dominated by thick pieces of goat meat and sea foods; but he still didn't feel relaxed as his body was on fire of excitement. It was his usual place of eatery, this day he felt strange. "What is changing here that I can't feel conducive"? He whispered to himself. The pride and egocentric power of money had taken over him within the few seconds of his magical turnaround. It was the beginning of his bastard wretched wealth.
He didn't mind to go back to the rusted-roof and crooked-wall house his poor father built; it would mean a humiliation to the new personality he had attained. Several thoughts flew-in as he pondered on how to change the nature of his room over night. The time was already late so there was nothing much to do. He pulled up his phone from it's pouch, loaded huge sum of data, then made generous orders for items from different online platforms. The next two days every item he ordered were intact; from air conditioning system, plasma television, deep freezer, ladder aided mattress, rugs and everything he felt could make life on earth a paradise. It was a matter of just a week the whole compound was coated with butterfly's coloured paints with louds of amusement from drunks who flooded the compound in celebration of the new big man in the community.
His parents were so excited to see their son becoming rich within the twinkling of an eye. The father attempted to call his attention to know how his son rose overnight; the mother who was always at the good side never want a drool upon her blessed child. Perhaps, may be manner had fallen on him. The father however muted because if he spoke against, he might be tagged "the enemy of the family's progress" and would not have part in the miraculous goodies; the blessing his ancestors had showered on his family.
This day the love of his life had arrived to spend the all moaning bedroom vigil night as usual. Of course he's loaded himself with all the drugs he felt would take one to the ultimate climax. She felt great, her life had changed, her man had joined the lineage of the elites, the gold miners she once digged. Of course it is the joy of every lady to see her man getting rich, but it doesn't come to the mind of every woman to ask the source of her man's wealth. The next day she felt not to leave the midst of the mushrooms that were flourishing in her man's house; yet she needed to take home the great tidings and steal the opportunity to boast among her fellow female friends. She left with huge gifts as her 'new status' man let her the normal escort in bold steps like captain America.
He couldn't sleep the previous night because of the overnight farm work he had with his woman. His eyes had been ladened by sleep, but he needed to be strong as he led his lady to her destination. On his way home he felt deep sleep that almost took him off the narrow neighborhood track. He had to widen his eyelids to stay high until he arrived home to take a nap. He felt the bush track was not safe enough for his sleepy eyes; thus, decided to cross to the back road which was wider than the former. He was surprised that no one was there except some singing birds. "How would it be possible that by this 10 am, in a bright sunny day like this no one else had walked this way since dawn; could it be that anything is wrong"? He asked himself in confusion. The reason was not clear to him, but he felt something was not going well.
His wide, frightened eyes took in the casual gait of the woman walking towards him. Cold beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. It couldn't be her, could it?
It was her! That dimple on her cheeks and the smirk on her thick lips was too cruel to belong to someone else.
But how could it be? He had killed her months ago. He could not really believe his eyes as he walked in awe towards the opposite side way direction which she came with frozen emotions.
The mysterious lady walked as innocent as she came towards his direction; his feelings became so uncertain and amputated as he tried to imagine what the hell was going on. He gathered his last strength to survive the shivering and the awful horror that came his way; for him it was his last; the ghost of his victim was obviously haunting him in the blurred day light, he thought. His feet became loaded with imaginary blocked icebergs, it was too heavy for him to bear. He took all his energy at the expense of his last drop of adrenaline to run as fast as he could to survive what was coming against him. Little did he know it was just the beginning of the racing game; the real nightmare had not yet began.
To be continued
#Guilt #Horrow #Writers #Readers #Storytellers #GreatStories #DeathConscience #GreatStories #AbasObot #Abasdgreat
© Abas Obot
It's about five months but he had not been able to sell the gold because of fear of police investigations or getting arrested by the EFCC (Economics and Financial Crimes Commission). The immense connection he built for years with his professional colleagues was the only key to open his new door of success. He began to make steps on how to sell the gold, with medium scale expectations; little did he know the price of gold had spiked in the international market for the past years. When the illegal buyers arrived to exchange Naira for the commodity, the cost of just half of the total carat he stole was enough to take him over the moon. It was then he knew his cruel action worthed the gain he was about to savour.
It took not up to 30 minutes when he received alerts flooding in from his local bank account. This time the alert had changed its tone to a more weighty sound. Behold, it was millions of Naira; the amount a senior civil servant in his locality would not earn for a life time, he got in just a blow. For him it was good to choose a good profession that cost no stress but brought great benefits.
His emotions got fluctuated with lots of excitement and thoughts on where to spend his maiden 'card'. He felt he was hungry, so rushed he to the newby burkateria to have some food. On arrival he settled the okada that took him with huge some. His body was shivering in excitement as his eyes got wet by moist tears of joy. He ordered for fufu and afang soup (the traditional soup of Ibibio/Annang tribe of Southern Nigeria made with Ukasi leaves). The soup tasted delicious but he felt abnormal as though something was wrong somewhere. Then he ordered for white soup extremely dominated by thick pieces of goat meat and sea foods; but he still didn't feel relaxed as his body was on fire of excitement. It was his usual place of eatery, this day he felt strange. "What is changing here that I can't feel conducive"? He whispered to himself. The pride and egocentric power of money had taken over him within the few seconds of his magical turnaround. It was the beginning of his bastard wretched wealth.
He didn't mind to go back to the rusted-roof and crooked-wall house his poor father built; it would mean a humiliation to the new personality he had attained. Several thoughts flew-in as he pondered on how to change the nature of his room over night. The time was already late so there was nothing much to do. He pulled up his phone from it's pouch, loaded huge sum of data, then made generous orders for items from different online platforms. The next two days every item he ordered were intact; from air conditioning system, plasma television, deep freezer, ladder aided mattress, rugs and everything he felt could make life on earth a paradise. It was a matter of just a week the whole compound was coated with butterfly's coloured paints with louds of amusement from drunks who flooded the compound in celebration of the new big man in the community.
His parents were so excited to see their son becoming rich within the twinkling of an eye. The father attempted to call his attention to know how his son rose overnight; the mother who was always at the good side never want a drool upon her blessed child. Perhaps, may be manner had fallen on him. The father however muted because if he spoke against, he might be tagged "the enemy of the family's progress" and would not have part in the miraculous goodies; the blessing his ancestors had showered on his family.
This day the love of his life had arrived to spend the all moaning bedroom vigil night as usual. Of course he's loaded himself with all the drugs he felt would take one to the ultimate climax. She felt great, her life had changed, her man had joined the lineage of the elites, the gold miners she once digged. Of course it is the joy of every lady to see her man getting rich, but it doesn't come to the mind of every woman to ask the source of her man's wealth. The next day she felt not to leave the midst of the mushrooms that were flourishing in her man's house; yet she needed to take home the great tidings and steal the opportunity to boast among her fellow female friends. She left with huge gifts as her 'new status' man let her the normal escort in bold steps like captain America.
He couldn't sleep the previous night because of the overnight farm work he had with his woman. His eyes had been ladened by sleep, but he needed to be strong as he led his lady to her destination. On his way home he felt deep sleep that almost took him off the narrow neighborhood track. He had to widen his eyelids to stay high until he arrived home to take a nap. He felt the bush track was not safe enough for his sleepy eyes; thus, decided to cross to the back road which was wider than the former. He was surprised that no one was there except some singing birds. "How would it be possible that by this 10 am, in a bright sunny day like this no one else had walked this way since dawn; could it be that anything is wrong"? He asked himself in confusion. The reason was not clear to him, but he felt something was not going well.
His wide, frightened eyes took in the casual gait of the woman walking towards him. Cold beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. It couldn't be her, could it?
It was her! That dimple on her cheeks and the smirk on her thick lips was too cruel to belong to someone else.
But how could it be? He had killed her months ago. He could not really believe his eyes as he walked in awe towards the opposite side way direction which she came with frozen emotions.
The mysterious lady walked as innocent as she came towards his direction; his feelings became so uncertain and amputated as he tried to imagine what the hell was going on. He gathered his last strength to survive the shivering and the awful horror that came his way; for him it was his last; the ghost of his victim was obviously haunting him in the blurred day light, he thought. His feet became loaded with imaginary blocked icebergs, it was too heavy for him to bear. He took all his energy at the expense of his last drop of adrenaline to run as fast as he could to survive what was coming against him. Little did he know it was just the beginning of the racing game; the real nightmare had not yet began.
To be continued
#Guilt #Horrow #Writers #Readers #Storytellers #GreatStories #DeathConscience #GreatStories #AbasObot #Abasdgreat
© Abas Obot
