Love Thy Neighbour (final part)

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Ben flipped through Oma’s nude pictures on his phone, his index finger caressing parts of the images that held his eyes as his mind roamed wild; her breasts, her thighs, her pubic region. He had never felt this much power in his entire life, this ability to get another adult do his bidding completely. Thoughts of all he could make her do had his imagination buzzing as his eyes consumed her pictures.

What if, he thought to himself, what if I ask her to undress again and let me touch her, let me do whatever I want to her? She would have no choice but to do it. I can do whatever I want to her.

The thought excited him; made him hard.

He regretted not having the time or the courage to do anything during their last encounter. Well, he would just have to create another opportunity for himself.

It was three days since that encounter, and in that time, he had returned to his job search though not as intensely as before. His survival no longer depended on it alone; he now had an alternative means of making money which he planned to exploit well. With the nude pictures as a blackmail tool, he could get Oma to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. The more he looked at those pictures, the more his mind filled with lust, and the smaller his conscience grew.

He stood up and began to dress up. Time to visit her again. This time he had no interest in food, no, all he needed was her money and her body.

It was 8am on a Sunday morning and most of the other tenants were home, but he did not care. All he needed was for Oma to be alone in her room.

He knocked on the door, no response. He knocked again and again, more impatiently each time, like a landlord who had come to claim rent from his tenant. Still no response. He became exasperated, wondering if she knew it was him and was deliberately not answering. Had she forgotten he had what could destroy her?

He was raising his hand to knock even harder when a teenage girl from the next room looked out and said, “Brother, Aunty Oma no dey o. She don pack comot.”

“Pack comot?” He was shocked. “Pack comot?”

“Yes, since yesterday afternoon.” And with that the girl popped back into her room, leaving Ben to head back to his in anger.

So this Oma thinks she has sense abi? She thinks she can run away to avoid me?

He mooned over the situation, contemplating releasing the pictures online to teach her a lesson. But then, he would gain nothing from that; he would get no more money from her and would not have the opportunity to fulfill his fantasies.

The worse thing was, he did not have her number. Hadn’t thought to get it during their last encounter; hadn’t thought he needed it since she was within his reach.

I have to get her number, he decided, I have to find her.

He went back to the teenage girl’s room. “Abeg you get Oma number?” he requested when she came out. Luckily for him, she did. She went back in to get her phone and he copied the number off it.

Back in his room, he dialed it.

“So you think you can run away, abi?” he accused the moment Oma picked and he heard her gasp. She knew it was him.

“You this guy, what do you want from me again?” she asked tearfully. “After all, I gave you everything you wanted the other time. And I haven’t told anybody anything like you asked. What do you want again? Just leave me alone! All I did was help you as a good neighbour, why have you chosen to repay me like this?”

Her words made him feel bad a bit, but he hardened his mind and told her, “Yes, you gave me what I wanted, but it does not mean I won’t want something again. It’s not like I want to harm you na, I just want us to continue being of help to each other.”

“Help? What help can you be of to me? All you keep doing is paying me with evil.”

“I can be of help to you by making sure your nude pictures remain a secret between us,” he told her and that shut her up.

“What do you want from me again?” she whimpered.

“Just come to Joy Hotel with five thousand naira at 4pm sharp today,” Ben responded. Joy Hotel was actually a brothel not far from their street.

“Hotel? No, please let me just send the money to your account. I don’t want to come to any…”

“I don’t want you to send it. I want you to come, I want to see you. Remember 4pm sharp. Don’t be late,” he ordered and cut off the phone.

He was at the hotel before 4pm. He booked a room for the night at 1000 naira and texted the room number to Oma. She arrived late, but just by five minutes, so he didn’t mind too much.

“Where is the money?” he asked immediately.

She quickly pulled out a roll of 500 naira notes from her handbag. It took him some effort to suppress his smile of extreme joy, it was really too good to be true, to be making money so easily. And to top it off…

He returned his gaze to her body; she looked good even in the long gown she was wearing, even with the drawn expression on her face and the fact that she had an ugly scarf around her head.

“Remove your clothes and lie down on the bed.”

Oma shook her head vehemently and started to cry, so he reminded her of the pictures. “I still have them on this phone and even in my email, within seconds I can send them to Facebook and also to your boyfriend,” he warned. “Better do as I told you. I am going into the bathroom now to shower. When I come out, let me see you naked on the bed.”

Indeed when Ben came out of the bathroom, naked, she had done as he ordered. She was naked on the bed, eyes closed with tears streaking down her face. But he did not see her misery and pain, all he saw was her attractive, smooth body waiting to receive his. And he did not waste time to get on her, right hand reaching out to grab one of her firm boobs, manhood turgid and eager to slide into the spot between her legs.

Suddenly, he felt a prick on the side of his neck… sharp and very painful. He swatted at it, thinking it was a very brutal insect only to find Oma’s hand there. It was holding a syringe whose needle was the source of the pain he had felt.

Ben hit her hand and the syringe away. “What are you doing? What are you injecting me?” he lunged for her neck menacingly but lost the ability to control his hand at that very moment, lost the ability to control any of his limbs or muscles. He rolled off her lifelessly, struggling to keep his eyes open. “What did you … inject…” his voice thinned off and his eyes slid shut as darkness rushed at him.

Oma got up. Her whole body was trembling but her hand remained steady as she checked his pulse as calmly as she would a patient at the hospital.

He was dead like she expected. She had only been able to pump half of the content of the syringe into him, and even that was enough to kill a horse. She had stolen the lethal injection from her hospital that morning after receiving his call, knowing she might have no choice but to do something drastic to get out of his hold. At the time, it had been difficult for her to imagine doing such a thing, but then what she found herself in was an unimaginable situation.

She picked up the syringe, took back her money, then picked up his phone and switched it off. After dropping all these into her bag, she quickly dressed up and let herself quietly out of the hotel room.

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