Sleeping Nemesis - Simply SAMAD

Simply SAMAD

A blog dedicated to short stories from Nigeria and exciting tales all over the world

Breaking

Home Top Ad

Responsive Ads Here

Monday, January 22, 2018

Sleeping Nemesis


Shortly after eating Suya and unzipping a beautiful girl's blouse, Olumide discovers it is his last day on earth...
Olumide always considered himself God’s gift to mankind. He was tall, handsome, physically carved like a Spartan and had a quick mind but like most mortals, he also had his flaws.

The young man was evil. Perhaps, tagging him evil would constitute a grand injustice to the depth of vileness he harboured in his heart, lifestyle and and habits.

Olumide was an embodiment of malevolence. At different points in his life, he had embraced violence with the totality of his heart and soul. Just name the vile act and he had either done it or had turned it over in his mind; with the hope of adding it to his long list of atrocities.

One of his landmark deeds was an encounter with an old man. This single encounter changed affected his life much more than he had ever anticipated. Take a seat and follow the lines...

Chapter 1: A Very Cold Evening

On a very cold evening, shortly after a heavy downpour, Olumide was bored and to make matters worse, he was broke and upsettingly hungry.

He knew he could easily get food nearby on credit but his ego counselled otherwise.

This brand of evil was proud!

It, therefore, didn’t come as a surprise when he slowly rose from his bed, put on a shirt, a pair of blue jeans and boots and set out to find a solution to his problems.

For a very strange reason, he decided to veer off his familiar route to the major road and opted for a muddy terrain as a shortcut. He hadn’t walked for more than 4 minutes when he looked up from the wet and muddy floor and saw the silhouette of an old man approaching from a distance.

With each step he took, the distance between him and the approaching old man shortened.
Also, with each stride, came the evil whisper; that familiar sound of dark persistence; with its ominous texture; wrapped in a melody of death, sorrow, destruction, pain and misery.

The old man wasn’t too far off now and the voice in Olumide’s head provided him with a mental guide of precisely what to do once the old man was within his reach.

Chapter 2: The Old Man

Just as the old man was about to walk past Olumide, the young renegade suddenly moved off course, took a bold step off the straight line he had been walking and stepped right in front of the old man; automatically blocking off his path.

The old man who had his head lowered all along, slowly looked up to see who or what had blocked off his path. When his eyes fell on Olumide’s face, he neither smiled nor frowned. This man was four times Olumide’s age if not more and revealed a face that must have encountered evil more than a few times.

Without waiting for Olumide to speak, the man dropped the heavy sack he was carrying, looked back at Olumide and said:

“My son, all I have on me is the money from the toothpick I was able to sell today… I beg you in the name of your creator. Spare me… My daughter is very ill and N1,000 is all that I have to buy her drugs and feed my family today. God will provide for us tomorrow…”

The man was about to say something when Olumide threw a hard right-hand fist into his face; violently throwing the old man backwards; forcing him into a fall into the wet floor.

From the impact, Olumide knew he had just broken the old man’s nose. Even as the old man groaned in pain; still on the floor, Olumide moved in. He picked the man up from the floor and while holding him erect with one hand, he swung his massive fist across the old man’s jaw. The impact not only broke the man’s jaw but sent saliva, blood and three teeth flying into the brown mud. The old man crashed into the wet ground like a bag of potatoes yet, his assailant was not finished with him.

Olumide took four slow steps to where the man lay and just as he was about the drive his boot into the old man’s face; a move that would have killed the old man instantly and left him with a broken neck, Olumide’s eyes caught something that captured all of his attention; it was money; in bits and pieces on the floor.

He abandoned the man, walked towards the money and began picking them up. When he was done picking up the wet notes, he counted and had a total of one thousand Naira.

Without any hesitation, he stuffed it all into his pocket. As he was about to leave, he took one last look at the old man who was barely moving; his shirt all bloodied. The mixture of mud and water on his body and the countless pieces of toothpicks that lay scattered all around the old man looked really messy.

It suddenly occurred to Olumide that indeed, the old man had been truthful. He was almost tempted to return the money to the man and probably help him up but the presence of the N500 in his pocket and the dark voice in his head helped him make up his mind.

As he began walking away, he looked back at the man for the very last time and saw the old man crying and sobbing.

Like a tortured soul, the injured man did something strange. He picked up a blood-stained toothpick, pointed it at Olumide and howled out loud in agony.

A bolt of fear coursed through Olumide as he heard the man’s cry but it was already too late as the wheels of nemesis had begun to grind in a steady roll of inevitability. He looked away quickly and just kept walking.


Chapter 3: N600 Suya

After spending N600 on Suya and N300 on locally prepared alcoholic drinks, Olumide stepped out from the bar and beckoned to a scantily dressed girl. As the girl got close enough, Olumide grabbed her big buttocks and dragged her close to his chest.

She was very calm despite Olumide’s hand lingering on her bum. She looked straight into his eyes and said:

“Short time is N1, 000 and TDB will be N2, 500 but because you saved me from police yesterday, just buy me a drink.”

He gladly obliged and just before he stepped out of the bar, he moved to pick a toothpick off the tray close to him but hesitated for a brief instant as the scene of his encounter with the old man flashed across his mind.

Olumide instantly killed the flashback, picked up a single stick of toothpick, wedged it between his lips and headed home with his sexy prize. He had barely opened the door when he unzipped the girl’s short blouse and grabbed her again but this time from behind.

She had the kind of body capable of giving a man an erection in less than 10 seconds and in a minute; Olumide was as hard as an ice cube. He was not one to indulge in foreplay and while the girl had her back to him, he expertly slid her lacy pants off, used one hand to place her hand on the bedpost as he guided himself into her.

Olumide knew the size of his manhood was far above average and he enjoyed the audible breath that escaped the girl’s lips as he penetrated her. She groaned and moaned as he held her hips still and thrust in and out of her. This went on for another 20 minutes; altering her position from time to time.

At a point, he had her lying face up; her back on the bed and lifted both her legs off the bed, placed them on his shoulders and penetrated her wetness once again. Her sexual depth spurred him to ride her. His length and size made her grab the sheets; fists clenched like the claws of an eagle seizing a prey. He rammed into her like a foreman knocking huge metallic nails into a yielding ground of a site and sweet moans of pleasure escaped her throat.

After a while, he felt the girl’s body begin to throb and then vibrate as she approached orgasm. She began to moan and gasp for breath as she held on tightly to him and climaxed.

Chapter 4: A Blast From the Past

Shortly afterwards, Olumide also reached his sexual peak. She had a cold shower, got dressed, sat between his legs while he sat on the bed and whispered to him:

“You’re good and I like you but next time, I’m going to charge you.”

He smiled at her and winked as she stepped out of the room. Olumide sat up in bed regurgitating the satisfaction of his latest sex romp and smiled; slowly shifting the position of the toothpick between his lips.

Without any warning, scenes of his violent encounter with the old man flashed across his mind again. As if this wasn’t bad enough, graphic scenes of his rape victims, their tears and agony came barging into his thoughts.

He remembered Aishat; how he had brutally raped her and cut her from time to time with a knife to instil morbid fear into her.

He recalled Nkem and what he had done with her corpse after raping and snuffing the life out of her.
He remembered the look on Emeka’s face as he stabbed him in the chest, pulled out the knife in a flash and slit his throat.

He remembered the little girl walking along the dark road barely a week ago and how he had grabbed her when no one was looking, knocked her unconscious and delivered only her head to his client.

Olumide knew he was a product of the society; where corruption, greed and quest for power reigned supreme. However, for some strange reasons, the thought of turning a new leaf now had him in a vice grip and he switched the toothpick to the left side of his lips and decided that he would think deeply about his life in the morning.

At the moment, the only thing on his mind was sleep. As he lay back on the bed; with the toothpick still playing on his lips, he wondered if he could really ever change for the better. He was certain he could but one thing he doubted if he could ever bury were memories of his past.

Within seconds, he closed his eyes and was consumed by sleep.

Chapter 5: The Final Awakening

Sometime shortly past midnight, Olumide’s eyes shot open; not because he couldn’t sleep but because he was in agonizing pain. Something had gone very wrong. He felt as if an Olympic athlete had driven a javelin through his entire neck with deadly intent. He wanted to scream out in pain but he couldn’t. There was something in his throat and it stabbed against the walls of his oesophagus. He couldn’t see it but he knew there was blood trickling down his throat. He would have preferred to stay still but he felt the pain of a hundred needles in his neck; constantly stabbing at his throat from the inside.

He was on his feet now. Olumide jumped all over the room; like a man having a choking fit. Indeed he was beginning to choke. The more he panicked; the deeper and harder the sharp edges stabbed into his throat and then he remembered… The toothpick!

The knowledge did nothing to help. In his panic and disorientation, Olumide tripped on an electric cord lying on the floor and he lost balance, wheeled forward, tried to stop himself but couldn’t and crashed his head into the window. Once again, he tried to stop himself but before he could bring his body from crashing forward, his bare neck slashed across the sharp edge of the louver; tearing his neck open; blood gushing out as he frantically grabbed his neck with both hands; choking on the pain and blood already flooding his throat and choking him to death.

Before he finally slumped, he slammed his 95kg frame against the door; trying to break it open but failed.

As he slumped, his vision blurred like a light being dimmed. In the blurred distance, he saw what looked like a blood-drenched old man holding a blood-stained toothpick; tears in his eyes and as if the countdown of an evil clock had suddenly run out, the man howled in an eternally infinite echo of agony… Deadly, deafening and diabolically doomed.

Author: Samod Biobaku | Simply SAMAD

Dedication
Specially dedicated to all those who love me despite my seemingly strange nature.

6 comments:

  1. The story is fantastic nd brilant, keep it up, sky is ur limit.

    ReplyDelete
  2. this sent anoda msg 2 d world dat 'd good dat men did lives afta dem' gud 1 dere bro.

    ReplyDelete
  3. it was twisted, disturbing and exciting. makes you feel things you would rather not feel.
    beautifully written, reminded me of the weirdness of VC Andrews books, and how i never get enough no matter how psychologically twisted it is.

    ReplyDelete
  4. A big thanks to my anonymous readers and your comments. I owe you guys the world. Where would a writer be without anyone to read. @ Saheed: Thanks a bunch bro and once again, i agree with you, it's about sowing and reaping. You cannot plant yam and expect to harvest berries. @ my second anonymous reader: Thanks a great deal for the franks comment. You spoke your mind, which i thoroughly appreciate. Your lines are not so far from mine either and i couldn't help but read them over and over again.

    ReplyDelete
  5. When the bush meat catch the hunter! Ghen..ghen! Olumide finally met his waterloo.
    This teaches all evil a man is doing or is going to do, will some day payback. Evil moves round evil men.

    Thumbs up!!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Wow really brilliant writeup, there's always a pay back to every evil deed unless you repent of it. I love the dress as well, simple n cute

    ReplyDelete

Please Leave a comment