The Writer. Ep. 6

Chapter 6.


The next day.

It was broad daylight. Chief Freya Bamidele stood in his office. He wore a black suit that brought out his heavy biceps with a grey tie. His gun hostler was on his desk and he was facing his window, looking out into nothing and just thinking. He had a case to solve. One that involves the death of Mrs. Bello, the third wife to Hon. Isyaku Bello.

He couldn't fathom why anyone would have a reason to kill a vibrant young lady for nothing. All because she's married to a politician.

A knock sounded on his brown, carved, wooden door.

"Come in" he called in a deep voice.

A lady in a trouser suit walked in.

"Sir" she called in a firm voice.

"Yes. Agent Dara"

"Everyone has gathered sir"

"Thank you. I'll be there in a minute" he replied.

He heard his door close with a light click. Still gazing outside, he inhaled a deep breath, turned to his desk, picked up his folder and went to face his team. Time to solve this case once and for all.


"Anything new?" asked Chief Freya as he walked into what they call the "con room"

All heads faced him. Men and women dressed in trouser suits except for the suit jacket, with hostlers on their waists or shoulders. The men were built -ready for battle and so were the women {not built, but fit}

The room had a long, largely black, oval table where they sat with their files laying flat on it.

Although the windows were closed, the blinds were up, letting sunlight stream in.

A lady stood up. Detective Jackie. The second in command.

"Sir, nothing yet," she said.

Chief Freya exhaled frustratingly.

"Are you kidding me?" He gritted out.

"We are still on it sir. We've got witnesses"

He just stared at her.

She bent her head down and sat down slowly.

Someone cleared their throat cause the room was a tad bit uncomfortable and awkward.

"Let's go through this again" Chief Freya broke into the silence, "Mrs. Bello was kidnapped on a Wednesday night after having a girls' night out with some of her friends. Normally they do this outing on a Friday but because she was meant to travel to Dubai on Saturday, they decided to have that outing on a Wednesday.

Her bodyguard was tranquilized with a dart. Which left him unconscious for days cause he was heavily dosed.

She was taken, raped multiple times and tortured. All these were recorded and sent to her husband to watch. Her head was sent in a gift bag to the residence of Hon. Bello. And for the past two weeks, parts of her body has been sent daily"

The room was silent.

A pin could be heard if dropped.

Every eye was on the chief and none looked excited about his words. Some looked ready to kill.

Chief Freya looked at every person dead in the eye.

"Now, I don't care how you do it. As long as civilians don't get hurt in the process. But I want those men caught. Dead or alive"

He paused and kept staring at them.

"Am I heard?"

"Yes sir" they all chorused.

He kept staring at them.

"Get to work" he commanded.

And then he walked out.


Two days later.

David Lawson strode into the building in a hoody, disguised as a regular man and not the agent undercover that he is.

He greeted the guards at the gate as he went through the security detecting thingy that checks for hidden things like guns or knives that can be used to harm a person.

Once he was checked and free to get through, he was bombarded by a strong smell that only he seemed to perceive.

"What is that smell?" he asked himself as he looked around.

"Yo! Lawson" called James.

He turned to look at his best friend and partner.

"Do you smell that?"

James frowned.

"Smell what?" he asked.


"I don't know what you're talking about"

"That smell, it's familiar"

"You've started with that your psychic thing again," said James,

"I'm not psychic" David objected.

"Keep deceiving yourself" James murmured.

He could still smell that familiar smell and it was beginning to make his nerves and brain cells tick.

James looked at him with a "what is the matter with you" look.

"Anyway, the boss wants to see you in his office" James began, "you might want to hurry. He's in a foul mood"

David raised a brow.

James shrugged.

"Just hurry," he said, as he walked out of the building where he got shot. Five times.


It's midnight. The air is timid. The birds are asleep. It's the dead of night, in the bushes were evil is awake and where she resides. She creeps about looking for prey. And those that are ready to be found go to her willing.

The boys get paid to do these things. Take lives, destroy lives, cause havoc, become a nightmare.

They feed on the pain they instill on their victims. Some call them monsters, some demons, but it's certain, they ain't humans.

In a circle, they stayed on their knees. Naked like the day they were born. Their heads bowed, their bodies marked with strange signs. From their necks to their legs.

A few logs of wood was burning bright a few feet to them. A man in ragged clothes with marks all over his body, dead black eyes that have no soul, walked slowly around these boys that call themselves men chanting in a language they did not understand.

He moved around them eight times.

A goat cried out. Like it knew its end was near. The ragged man picked up the baby goat, sliced open its throat and stretched it high to the heavens. Chanting more words. He then walked to the boys and on each poured the blood on them.

They moved not, as the blood dripped down their bodies.

The ragged man took the goat and poured the remaining blood into a small calabash. Mixing it with some concoction, he gave the boys to drink. And they drank.

It's sadistic, it's evil, it's inhuman but he wasn't done.

He cut out pieces of the baby goat and gave each boy to eat raw. And they ate it.

Blood dripped out from the side of their lips as they ate the meat. They delved into it. Not caring that they had sold their souls to the devil.

In a voice that wasn't his, he said "now you are gods. No man on earth can destroy you. You can kill as much as you want because remember, the more you kill, the more powerful and richer you'll become"

And then he laughed.

But he's laughter was a laughter-filled with doom.

A few days later.

"You've been absent," Ireyi said as she walked into the kitchen. She looked worn out.

"Yeah, family emergency" I replied.

I stopped doing what I was doing to observe her. She looked amazing as always. Blue faded jeans that fit her to perfection and a cute fitted top.

Over the last few weeks, Ireyi and I have come to an understanding. Our first impressions of each other were dire. But as we got to see each other daily and mostly talk, we realized we actually could be friends. And that's what we are – friends.

"You okay?" I asked her. I was stirring the Egusi soup on the fire.

"Yeah, why you asking?" she asked. She was getting a cup of water from the kitchen tap.

"Cause you look worn out," I said to the pot of soup on the fire.

"I'm not worn out" she objected.

I turned my neck to look at her.

She looked back. Cup in hand.

Yeah, she looks worn out.

I moved my eyes back to my soup, knew it was ready, and so, turned off the burner.

I began to move to her but stopped mid-step.

Shit! That familiar smell is back.

I smelt it right before James got shot at. His condition is critical. The doctors can't tell if he'll make it. The machines that have been plugged to him are what's keeping him alive.

I also smelt it a few years back right before my grandmother passed on and also when my dad was killed in a car accident.

At first, I didn't think about it because right after my dad's death, I haven't smelt it.

But now, it's back.

My mum says it's a gift and a curse. That it runs in the family. Her side to be precise. I don't know what it's called. But we can tell when death is coming. I don't know, maybe we have this ability cause death wants us to be prepared and to say our goodbyes.

I moved closer to her.

She was watching me carefully.

"What is it?" she asked.

I stood right in front of her. Crowding her space.

"This is going to sound strange" I began, "but Ireyi, I think you're going to die soon"


"Let me get this straight. You're telling me you don't want me to do the job of capturing Ireyi" said Fa'izah Musa.

He stood in the shadows but said nothing.

"Unbelievable" Fa'izah said, turning around and looking in the dark.

They stood outside an uncompleted building.

He chose this spot because no one ever passes through. This is the meeting place for him and his boys alone.

Hon. Isyaku Bello, Hon. Gowon Ben, and Hon, Saidu Maliki. Were all in the meeting too.

"Capturing Ireyi will be easy. But it won't be done by you?" said Hon Maliki. He was stone-faced.

"Who will do it then?" Fa'izah asked. Turning to face Maliki.

Maliki looked at me.

He nodded once. I did the same. Understanding what he means.

Maliki looked to Fa'izah, "it'll be handled"

She had seen the look that passed between us and she didn't like it.

I stared at her, "By me" I answered.

She looked at me and her eyes got wide.

"No, wait. If you handle it that girl will be dead"

"She won't. I'll handle it"

I walked out of the shadows and disappeared through the back.

I'm coming for you Ireyi.