Oluwasegun Oke

The Monopoly of Fate Written by: Oluwasegun Oke This book is a property of Smashwords and therefore must not be re-edited, copied or used in any way without the prior consent and acknowledgement of the Author. The violation of this copyright is punishable under the law. It was the darkest night in December, Kolobi and her son had been abducted by the men of the underworld. Hands and legs of fifteen captives, had been tied with ropes. Meanwhile, strange shadows alternate not far away, from a bonfire, dancing in the frenzied lashing of the wind. How she could have passed out and later ended up in a notorious camp was racing through her mind. Will she survive the unforgiving scare she has found herself? Just few seconds, after which she had regained consciousness, felt like judgement day. Then she remembered her son, "Chichi" : a potential heir to the throne of Wolowolo Kingdom. Perplexed, she wriggled out from the rest, and fell down from some slanting meters away, hitting her head on a keg of petrol. The content was half way spilled, before a giant's footsteps approached to put it back up in horror and anguish. "What are you trying to do, why do you give us so much trouble, huh?" All this while, he was on the verge of squeezing her throat till death, before another partner in crime intervened and pushed him to a corner. "Fatai Stop your personal aggrandizement! We are working for the 'messenger of death' now. Remember that". Then Fatai responded: "but Bolago, we have to make a statement, so that the other boys won't think that we are weaklings." "You don't need to prove anything. This is your first day on this job, so learn and become a professional", said Bolago. Meanwhile, the fifteen tied captives must be burnt alive, and beheaded, for their dry skulls, which must be smuggled six miles away to a witch doctor in Kala town, who pays in dollars. He is the spiritual chief priest of hundreds of clients, home and oversees. Bolago reaffirmed, "We are no more petty armed robbers who lost two members to the police eight months ago; we are going to be rich here. So relax okay?". Giving him a tap on the cheek. Bolago stood over the exhausted body of Kolobi and removed the piece of cloth on her mouth. "Are you alright?",he asked. And then she tumbled out a faint voice: "my son the prince, help me save him...please". Hearing this, Bolago recalled that not killing a prince was part of their ritual customs. He became furious and shocked, pointing at another member at the "death camp". "It was your fault Babanla!! You gulped two bottles of whisky, and forgot to ask them if indeed a royal blood was included.They are money ritualists, and "dead sheep" is their code name for a human being. Bolago ran in the direction of their leader's hut, some foot distance away, knocked on the door, and got down on his knees, with his head bowed. An elderly man in his late sixties, with white beard and a staff in his right hand opened the door. "Death Soldier, what brings you to my peaceful abode?", he asked. "Two of the 'dead sheep' are of royal blood", Bolago replied. "What a calamity", said the 'death messenger', and squeezed out a long and tortuous groan. " In these days when dead sheep are becoming a scarce commodity? Yet, we have to feed two more mouths for another week, before they are converted into table meats". Then he gazed at the dark clouds of the night, and exclaimed, "Rejected spirits, stare not at me!" He reached deep down into his dirty white garment's pocket, and pull out a blue cell phone. He was bracing up for an emergency. But nobody picked his calls. Greatly disturbed. He gave an order. "Isolate the two, and inform Babanla to summon the chief priest of Owolowo village". This was for him to come and carry out necessary rites for the conversion of the two royalty into ordinary human beings. "He must be present before we can add two more 'dead sheep' from the hell cage to tally the fifteen required for the skull job". Bolago looked up and yielded, “as you wish your Lordship". He got up from his kneeling position, and quickly returned to Babanla who was fast asleep at the time. "Stand up Babanla, wake up!". He kicked him with his right foot, and watched him with full-blown anger. "The Lordship want you to summon the chief priest - so go now and do your job!". Then he tossed the transport fare to him. Bolago had just started the gruesome profession in two months, yet he had won the heart of his boss, who had made him his treasurer. Furthermore, Bolago graduated from the university, a year earlier. He juggled this with armed robbery, in partnership with his three childhood friends. Which enabled him to pay for school fees, and other miscellaneous expenses. But unfortunately, there was a terrible misfortune that put a stop to their spate of terror, as two of his three childhood friends were shot dead by the police. He had always been chronically obsessed with his childhood desire - Tutu : Who had refused to return his feelings. She became a hooker at the tender age of fourteen. Notwithstanding, she is forever embedded in the stubbornly primitive mind of Bolago. Because she owns the largest part of the reason, he became money-driven and cold. Moreover, immediately he got back home from internship after graduation, he had asked of the whereabouts of Tutu, and was told her husband had died, nine months previously. He got her new residential address, and was there early in the morning. This was seven years after he saw her last. With a burden of excitement, he lurked somewhere nearby the given address patiently. Then shortly afterwards, a tall-light skinned girl walked out of the residence, with a little boy of about two years old. He stood there, staring in bewilderment. The little boy tripped, then she uttered, "Futa be careful", and smiled. It was this smile that fully confirmed her identity to Bolago. He would have called out her name, but she wasn't the die-hard materialist, he fell in love with. According to fate, she had now become a guilty mother, nursing and happy with a child that wasn't his. Tears began to stream down Bolago's face. A passer-by noticed this, and was paying attention. So he wiped his eyes and left. When he got home, he went to the backyard they used to play around in, when they were little. He wanted more pain, but this time around, it was with a terrible joy. As if they were still two lovebirds, playing, "mum and dad". She was holding a doll, "see Bolago , our baby just came back from school", and then he approached his unmindful goddess, and stole a kiss. She stared back in his eyes, smiling. But that was 28 years previously. Yet, it was a life-time memory of Bolago. The next day, he resolved not to give up on her. Even with her kid. But in reality, he must become a bloody millionaire, to buy her love. Having snooped around for few weeks, he was specially employed at the ritualists' camp. That was two months previously. Now sitting on a log in the camp, distressed. Bolago suddenly heard a voice. It was Fatai's. "Hey man, why are you crying, something bad happened right? Tell me!". Bolago looked around, and shook his head, "I just remembered the first robbery with our late best friends. We were holding a toy gun, and three machetes. You kept yelling at our victims not to panic - that it was the will of God. After the operation, I asked if you believed in the Bible, because I've never been to church before". To this, Fatai replied: "My brother, God is a myth, and Heaven only helps those who help themselves. But back to business, you told me the remaining eight members in this camp, were once cultists, who had run out of luck with the law, after killing some people perceived to be enemies. Consequently, they are desperadoes with no value for human lives, nor remorse. Furthermore, they've taught you how to murder innocent citizens, dissect their remains, and preserve the skulls and skeletons with acid. Also, those tears the other time, you may fool them, but not me. I have had my own share of tears too, hence to cover up, I became a tough bastard. So whatever you've become, just don't lose your head. They forced you to kill once,and it will continue. Bolago had a long sigh, and said: "you are blaming me already? Look, my back is against the wall. Don't get worse with debt of worries. Let's talk about something fun". Fatai interrupted his childhood friend this time around, "let's start with the captives, why are they not trying to escape?" Bolago froze, and looked around, for a while, but he could only hear the noise of frogs and crickets in the forest. Then he explained, "The death messenger, that is, our boss, is a spirit in human flesh. He prepares this 'brown water', which has the power to turn our targets, that is, human beings, into a dense creature, ready to be slaughtered. We use a handkerchief dipped in the brown water to touch the forehead of the unsuspecting victims, and that's it. They follow us to wherever we go, and answer personal questions, without even knowing it. Bolago sighed again, and continued, But that woman, she tried to escape, I knew something was wrong, then she turned out to be a royal blood.". Fatai looked in his eyes, and said, "how did you abduct the woman and his son?". Bolago replied, "She was driving a black jeep along Fulu road. We cunningly stopped her and used the brown water-immersed handkerchief to touch her forehead. People around didn't notice. We entered her vehicle and did the same to her son afterwards. Fatai looked round as well, and asked with curiosity, "the captives, do they eat?". Bolago chuckled and answered: "they are dead sheep - a dead sheep doesn't eat. Open your mind, my good friend. There are potential clients everywhere. You may never know until faced with a terminal illness or the need for some good luck charm that requires a human sacrifice. That is where we come in. This business was not created out of a whim, there are hundreds of human parts' demands every year, I was told." . Now, Fatai had an easy smile on his face, then asked "bro, where do you see yourself in five years?" Bolago answered, "Sincerely speaking, I'm lost. But in five years, I shall take what is mine". He got up and walked away. In the morning, the chief priest arrived, alongside cheerfullooking Babanla at the notorious "death camp", carrying a bag, to meet the boss. They embraced each other. At that point in time, they started discussing some matters of Ill luck, spreading like wildfire among money ritualists. It was a routine to learn from others' mistakes, so as to remain in business. "The great tiger is now in police custody",said the boss. "Yes, he must be in bad shape, the men in uniform are only lenient to God", replied the chief priest. "But I hope he won't confess, and disclose the location of his shrine, I sent one 'dead sheep' there three days ago. Well, I have repainted my dealership van, and changed its plate number", said the "death messenger". The witch doctor put his right hand on his boss's shoulder, and asserted, "You summoned me yet again in just three months interval. People are incessantly scrambling for spiritual protection nowadays. Be careful". "Oh yes, they've made my job so difficult recently", said the boss. The two isolated royalty protected by spiritual powers, were forced to drink out of the foul smelling content of a green bottle, prepared by the chief priest. "Now is the time to surround them with incense that will chase their protectors away", said the witch doctor, with a nasty grin on his face. A woman in her early thirties, made her way through, leaned forward, and whispered in the master's ear. He stood up with arms wide opened, and announced: "food is ready everyone". Thus, every evil doer gathered at the scene left for some delicious delicacy. At a table in one of the ritualists' huts, the two shot callers were served opposite each other. "Mmmmm, I like Togole's hands, she makes irresistible dishes". And guess what? We will be husband and wife very soon", and gave out a rather selfish laugh. "But what about Pulatwa's mother?", said the chief priest. The camp boss used the napkin in his hand to wipe clean his lips, then threw it on the table. And stood up, to close the window. Now, there was utter darkness in the room, so he emerged with the light of a rechargeable lantern, that had now brighten up the room, and set it on the table. " Shhhhh, you are like a brother to me, and you know how much I love my wife". Still prowling around the room like a wounded lion, with his trembling right palm, tracing down his long bushy white beard ghostly. "I had a strange encounter with the gods three weeks ago, demanding a human sacrifice, as usual. Terribly mistaken, I would have called you up, to do the necessary rites. But.." He stopped and was gazing at utter emptiness. "But what?", said the chief priest. "Instead the gods asked for pulatwa-mother' s soul" said the camp boss. "What? And you didn't tell me, to know if we could appease your gods with the head of someone else?", said the chief priest. "I wasn't sure you would yield and carry out the sacrifice, so I called another witch doctor. "Why..?, this your gods have taken too much!". Now, uncontrollable tears streamed down the chief priest's eyes. "So where did you bury her, where?". Death Messenger pointed at the mat he sleeps on. "You called your wife, who was living a lavish life in Atlanta, United States to come to Nigeria. Lured her into this dangerous bush by guile , and buried her alive, right here in your room? Tell me it's not true..! Now, are you more powerful?" The witch doctor got up from the chair. "Remember, I told you to share your power with me once, two years ago, you declined. The result is glaringly bad boss. You've paid dearly". The witch doctor opened the door and left. "Death Messenger" then hence licked his lips with shock and fear. After few seconds, all of a sudden, the boss hurried outside, and shouted, "our collaboration still stands!!". But the witch doctor didn't look back. "Death messenger" went back to his room, opened a drawer in the corner, and pulled out a family photo album. Still standing, he flipped the pages for a while, and took out a gallant picture of his late wife, dressed in a native attire. With blinking eyes, he muttered: " I will take good care of our children now", and licked his lips again. Then he stared at his mat, under which his wife was buried alive, with no guilt or shame. Later while outside, he called every member of his notorious gang from nooks and crannies of the forest, to converge on a spot before him in the camp. Then he called Togole, who walked up to stand by his side. And put his arm around her, "This is my wife, from now onward. Every bit sof respect accorded to my subject, should be given to her". She smiled. "Now we are going to celebrate". He asked them to bring out the twelve bottles of champagne he had ordered three days earlier. He shared it with each of them, one after the other. And made a toast with the last bottle of champagne in his hand, "To death camp, and a blissful union of Togole and me. The crowd exploded in an earthquake of mass hysteria, "Hurray...long live the king....yeah....hey...!!!". The next day, after clearing more bushes, and building a magnificently conducive edifice, for the new couple in the camp. Both Bolago and Fatai were lying, backs against each other on their small matress - passing the time."The captives smell like hell,I saw Zurugwara spraying them generously with some perfume. They are surely losing weight, and I fear, they might die before their time comes", said Fatai. "You are funny bro, it's barely four days to the deadline. Well, just to clear your ignorance, man can survive for more than two weeks without food. You know I graduated as a veterinary doctor from the university. So I know, and I hope you've been educated". "Education is expensive", said Fatai. "Tell me more, you said Kuchala dragged out the last victim in the cage, slit open his throat, and started drinking from the gushing blood?". "You could have been there to witness it first hand - you coward", said Bolago. " But I was not there, because I would have to carry that gory memory forever". "Look, we are death soldiers - we are not supposed to think". Bolago shrugged off a little shiver."ohhhh.. Fatai, I hate your loud unmanly talks", complained Bolago. "Then why did you tell me about Kuchala?. Just talk to me and let it all out. See, I don't want you to end up in a psychiatric hospital. "So, what do you think they will do with the removed tongue, eyes and genitalia of the last victim. Bolago did not reply. Obviously still angry, Fatai looked closely to see if tears were in Bolago's eyes again. "Okay", he paused. "One last question: for how long have they been staying in this camp?". "If I ask that, they might think I'm a detective, Bolago replied". "You need not worry, the boss likes you a lot", Fatai enthused and smiled. Suddenly, a smell of roasted meat, carried in some smoke around the premises of the den, filled their noses. "Did you smell that? The Queen is a kitchen-magician, let's go and see", said Fatai. "I'm tired, you may go", said Bolago. After about nine minutes later, Fatai got back to their room, breathing heavily, like a marathon athlete. He walked slowly to a corner of the room, turned his back against the wall, and slid back down to the ground, with both hands on his head. Bolago had keenly watched him all this while in his reclined position. Then he jumped up and muttered, "What is wrong". Staring at the ground, Fatai paused a little, and answered," I saw Kuchala". "You scared me pal. Kuchala is not a ghost, he's just a senseless vampire", uttered Bolago. "No..no", Fatai shook his head, and later parted his lips to convey a rather shocking revelation. "He's a cannibal". "A cannibal as well?", muttered Bolago. Fatai looked up at his childhood friend, " We've been eating abomination all along bro". "Wait, wait.., hold it there", said Bolago. "Togole dare not serve us human meats - maybe it's a ritual". In no time, Fatai broke down and started vomiting in disgust. Some silence came upon them as the long night passed-by slowly. In shock and lack of confidence, they couldn't go outside for dinner. "We can't continue like this",said Bolago. "Come to think of it. Unlike many fools who are modern day slaves out there, we've got a job that can fetch us millions in few months, so I strongly suggest that we see it to the end. First we had the audacity to indulge in sacrilege. We can't afford to become suspects now, nor a bush meat. I don't care what you do with tonight's meat, just pull yourself together. We've worked hard all day long. Therefore, we deserve to eat tonight. Or can you sponsor the appropriation of your own food supplies, arousing suspicions, and ending up dead. Just trust me bro, I know what i'm doing, huh. So make sure you smile while eating tonight. Your face looks pale, like a coward's". "I am not a coward", Fatai grunted softly. They decided to be strung along, for another unsuspecting night, while suppressing their dismay for financial gain. After two days, Bolago set out in the morning to be reunited with his parents and siblings for two days, after two months of hard labour. His boss gladly granted this request. For the first time in his life, he was equal to his name, which means, "wealth has power". It was a rather dull early Saturday afternoon, he strolled down the same street that reminds him so much of his lovelorn childhood. He was nicely dressed, with nine hundred and fifty thousand naira in a bag, strapped to his back. He had suffered a lot, growing up in a family that couldn't stand on its feet. His father was nicknamed "mr nobody", among the local community. This mockery made his poverty stricken anger, to be easily aroused among his peers. Consequently, he got into fights, and injured scores of people. His poor mother then became hypertensive, due to his incessant arrests and court orders. But no more avoiding home because of police. His cramping ill-luck and grossly laden hopelessness have suddenly been changed by loyalty and perseverance. He had been dreaming of this day for far too long, so his face was calm and bright. He got to the front view of their age-long one room apartment. There was no one at his mother's kiosk. This put a brief smile on his face. But upon getting home, his younger brother was moping the floor, and his father was in a reclining position. "Oh Bolago, my son", his mother enthused. There was no bed, just a mat, covered with pieces of cloths, on which his sick father was lying on. He leaned very closed to him, while on his knees. "What happened?" He demanded. "Your father suddenly fell down and became paralyzed three days ago, we took him to the hospital, where the doctor confirmed that he's suffering from Diabetics. Tears rolled down Bolago's face. So he let out his anger, "then why did you discharge him from the hospital"? "We've run out of cash, my son - business is not looking up". "Then, why didn't you call me?",he asked. "We made several efforts to call, but your line was not available", she replied. Now his father attempted to say something, but there was no strength left in him. "Don't worry dad, I will do anything to see you in good health again", said the broken son. So he arranged for his father to be re-admitted into the hospital, and also requested the doctor to examine his mother, so as to prevent another calamity due to her hypertensive condition. Although, he arrived a bit late, his presence was valuable enough to save the life of his dear father. In the hospital room, he placed his right hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'm putting the wellbeing of our parents in your hands now, take good care of them". He put down the bag on his back, unzipped it, and took two bundles out from it in his left hand. The rest he handed to him. "Purchase everything that will make life more comfortable for them, I will always keep my cell phone's battery charged henceforth, so as to always know the updates of their health", said Bolago. The mother was full of praises and prayers for her displeased son, that was suddenly playing the role of a man. He put the two bundles of one thousand naira denominations, in a black nylon bag, and left the hospital. Meanwhile, he was prepared to face Tutu for the first time in his life, and confess his love to her. It was the second day of his visit home, from the "death camp". As he got to the veranda of her residence, he stopped, and was rather rudely calling out her name with uncontrolled excitement. "Can't you use the bell?!", Bolago heard the sweet voice of his angel, from the three bedroom bungalow. The front door was thrown-opened, before a slim, tall and beautiful woman, in her early thirties appeared. "What are you doing here", she demanded. There was an infectious resentment on her face. Meanwhile, Bolago was speechless and carried away by what he had seen. "I don't have time, tell me what you want!", yelled Tutu. Bolago began to unmask his glorious regrets," All these years I've watched you grown into a damsel, with unstoppable tears of happiness. But I kept trying to forget you, and carry on with my lovesick heart, till I love another woman. And recently, I've come to the conclusion that I can't live without you. Tutu, I can't stop thinking about you". He paused, and gave the black nylon bag, containing the two bundles to her. Meanwhile, she was staring at him with unchangeable contempt. But when she looked and saw the huge money offered, she became happy. For the first time, since both were six years old, she was smiling at Bolago - not any other sugar daddy, as it used to be. Hence, their interaction became mutually pleasant. "Would you care for a bottle of drink?, uttered Tutu. "Yes", Bolago smiled briefly. While seated in the parlour,they talked at length,about good old days,and growing up as kids. "I learnt you got admitted into the university,six years ago. "That's true..it was the hand of God", said the "death soldier",and opened the fifth bottle of beer on the centre table. "I'm so sorry about the demise of your husband. Is that his picture?", said Bolago. Tutu nodded. Her two years old son climbed on the three seater chair, and sat on Bolago's lap. So he took him in his arms, to cuddle and kiss, before enthusing, "Your son is mine now, I will take good care of both of you". Now, there was a motherly smirk on Tutu's face. It had only been over three hours since he had been there, but he was gradually getting to know almost all about her personality. "I noticed you are trying to build a new house on this property. I can be of help. I have a lucrative job now at a construction company in Abuja". Tutu smiled and interrupted, "my baby has fallen asleep in your arms". She got up, and carried her child into his room. Meanwhile, while looking around in the parlour, Bolago saw a framed picture of her deceased husband, below which was written, "Happy Sixty fifth Birthday". This made him to wonder, why Tutu, who was 32 years old, at the time, decided to marry someone that old. Some seconds later, she returned to the sitting room, and sat next to him, placing her left palm on his right kneecap. "It is very dark already, you ought to stay the night here, you know? Our neighborhood vigilantes might mistake you for a thief. She then pointed at the opposite wall, "that is the visitor's room, please feel at home", and got up to call it a day. Bolago watched keenly, as she left the sitting room. Now it was mid night, there was a persistent knock on the door. Bolago opened his eyes, wondering who could be standing there. He looked at the wall clock, got up, and opened the door. It was his childhood lust. This time around, there was no word, just a little push backward. Tutu shut the door behind, and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. His two bundles had not been misplaced: Tutu had thrown herself into his arms. In the morning, he taught of killing his boss, and having more spare time. Before long, Tutu opened the door and put a breakfast tray of rice and chicken on his bed. She sat beside it, staring in his brown eyes. "Thank you, for loving me", she said. Bolago wanted to say another word, then his cell phone rang. It was Fatai who was calling, "the boss asked of you", he said. But to impress Tutu more, Bolago started some untrue conversation on the phone, "Okay, how about that fifty million naira contract, have they agreed to do business? That is great news. I will be in office tomorrow. Okay? Bye". Tutu put a spoonful of rice in his mouth, and asked, " You are going back to work, right? The "death soldier" couldn't hide the nostalgia about his new girlfriend. Shortly afterwards, he left her residence in pursuit of more money. But upon arrival at the highway which was a forty minutes' walk to their hide out in the forest. To his utmost amazement, two police patrol vehicles were parked, at some distance away from their collective bushy entrance. He felt it was nosey, and decided to cross over to the next walkway to his left instead. He must feed his suspicion, or risk spending the rest of his life in prison. After tensely wandering around for seven minutes, he suddenly felt like a criminal. So he entered a pub, and sat in a corner of the room to call Fatai. But nobody picked. A couple of minutes later, his missed calls were replied. But he realized a mix up - the voice from the other line was a stranger's. The now longfaced Bolago was shocked by this inconclusive threat to his expectations. He later overheard a deadly rumour among some yuppies. A gang of armed money ritualists nearby were busted, and some captives were rescued as well, after a gunfire broke out. Yet that their notorious leader was captured, while all his accomplices died in the shoot-out, alongside a young woman. He was full of caution against his blood-tasty odds. Hence, he went into hiding during nightfall.