A terrorist to love – part 14

A terrorist to love – part 14
10 November 2024
Courtesy freepik.com


She decided to get back to her flat and read a bit to take her mind off the events of the evening. She was glad that the bulky man’s body had been taken away as neither Manas nor she had the time to tend to that. She looked around her before opening the door to her building and stepping in. She recognized a faint smell of bleach and wondered what it might be. She quickened her step and reached her flat door. Something seemed off. She looked again at the door and realized that the stones in front had been moved about again. Somebody was in her flat and it surely wasn’t Manas as he had left towards the tube and could not have come back to the flat before her.

She pushed the door ever so slowly, hoping that the person inside would not know the door was opening but she realised this was futile as the corridor was lit while the room was half plunged in darkness.

- Come in, said a voice from what seemed to be the middle of the room.
- Who is this, she said
- A friend, or to be more precise, a friend of a friend

She entered the room very slowly, her eyes fixed upon the middle of the room where she could make out the form of two bodies sitting on her couch. Only one of them had spoken though and it seemed to be the one on the right. She was about to turn the switch on when the man spoke again asking her not to turn on the light.

- Close the door first, he said
- Why, she said
- Just close the door and then you can turn on the light.

She closed the door behind her feeling a tad more vulnerable as she did, realising that she would not be able to rush out as easily as she would have been able to, had she left the door open. She switched the light on and turned towards the men, letting a gasp out as she did so. On the couch sat side by side, the dead crumpled bulky man and another man she had never seen before. Before she could say anything, someone else came out of the kitchen and she found herself face to face with the man that she had identified as Younes.

I thought you were warned not to meet Manas again, said Younes
- I heard the warning but nothing was said about when Manas would come himself to see me
- You should have asked him to leave
- You should know Manas is not a man to be trifled with or told what to do
- Yes, I get what you mean but you still should have tried to make him leave for both your sakes
- Well he is on his way to Cameroon now, isn’t he?

Younes smirked but said nothing. The man on the couch beckoned to Younes to hold the bulky man still. She realised that the bulky man’s clothes were smelling of bleach and it looked like the floor of the room had been cleaned up with bleach too. They had very likely removed the blood that must have flowed from the bulky man. She wondered whether they had cleaned up the road as well. The man came towards her very slowly and purposefully. He took her by the shoulders and made her sit on the armchair opposite the couch.

- Do you know this man, he said, pointing towards the bulky dead man
- No, it looked like he was following Manas and me, and he seemed to have a gun, perhaps to kill us both
- Very likely. He is a hired killer that Al Shabab have used in the past. He can easily kill western targets as he is a Brit who looks very inconspicuous, and the target does not even realise anything before it is too late.

She mulled over this thoughtfully, realising that they had been lucky that his gun had become noticeable, and Manas had shot him before he could kill them. This did not explain, however, what Boko Haram’s Nigerian members were doing with his body in her flat nor why they were waiting for her. The man who was towering over her looked at her keenly.

- You are wondering why we are here and why this body is here
- Yes, I am not sure what you want to achieve, really
- This is a second warning to you and let it be the last. We have taken pictures of the dead body in your flat and if you won’t stop meeting with Manas, we will send the pictures to the police and there will be witnesses to claim that you had shot him. We have a lot of people who would love to be witnesses to incriminate you.
- Well don’t you think that Manas would get embroiled in this if you were to really try to frame me?
- Manas might never find out or he might never be able to do anything about it. Do not make this harder than it should be.
- Okay, she said, swallowing her pride and anger, realising she could not fight them

Younes and the other man got a large plastic container which they folded the bulky man in before taking him out of her flat. She did not know what they were going to do with him but was just relieved that they were all out of the flat now and she could collect her thoughts. She looked at the couch expecting there to be some stains, but it had apparently been perfectly cleaned up and even if there had been any drops of blood, it looked like nothing had happened there. She went to the couch, putting her nose where he had been sitting but there was no smell of bleach. Perhaps there had been no blood left to drip there then. She went to the door and locked it before trying to put the latch on as her hands trembled. How was she going to get out of this one, she thought…

Goya Gumbani - Chase the Sunrise (feat. Yaya Bey & lojii & Fatima)

Under the baobab tree

Under the baobab tree

12 January 2016

baobab

They loved each other dearly and met under the baobab tree, just a few meters away from marshes that ended the land belonging to his family. She was dark, he was white. She was a native and he had all the rights. They did not belong together, this they knew was their social plight. Their hearts spoke a different law though. It was under the bough rich of leaves and sunshine that they carved their love in stolen letters. It was under the moon silent and blue that they met at the feet of the baobab tree.

 

One day his mother saw him sneak out. She figured what that was all about and soon there would be no rendez-vous. She gave him and other members of the family a piece of mind or two. Bewitched he must be, was their conclusion. She surely used sorcery some powerful infusion for she was black and small while he was tall, strong and white and their love, really, was not quite right. The county decided it was time this should stop and never again another lad to quit crop.

 

They say she screamed and begged for her life but they knew better. Her mouth sewn the cries shut would let them go about their holy task unfettered. She burnt brightly and though her flesh cringed and peeled not a tear nor a sigh eye and mouth revealed. When he heard he hastened broke all chains threw himself on the pyre embracing her remains. They tugged and tugged at his free arm but his body remained locked to hers by a charm. He died arm extended head flung to the skies and it was then that she released those cavernous sighs. Fire caught the baobab tree that hung near and ashes breathed into the night once the fire had cleared.

 

Years later at that very spot a curious couple of baobab trees grew tight as in a pot. When you look closely you can still see the stitches on her mouth and his arm extended his head flung back to shout. The blue skies shine bright and nourish them with light for now they are together and will remain so forever. On moonlit nights, you can hear her sighs plaintive and low like a baby’s cries.

ice ember hystericalminds com (2)
Courtesy hystericalminds.com

 

Written for Friday Fiction with Ronovan writes prompt challenge. Rules and prompt here

Reading of the short story:  

Wind of Change – Scorpions

More than words – Extreme