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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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