The whole of America was haunted by an unrepentant burglar and arsonist; no matter how the American security outfits tries, he was a thousand steps ahead. Once, he goes on a mission, he never misses. He was wanted by the security outfits, hated by the populace – rich or poor alike and since his mission was always done in the dead silence of the night; he was tagged in the dailies as "NICODEMUS!"
**
At a five star hotel in California; sounds of moans and ejaculatory screams was heard. Outside the door were seven men lying dead.
Then the door bursts open;
"Hey, horny boy – it's Santa!" a man wearing a mask said; he had a short gun with silencer and a double barrel gun which he hung on his neck. As he said those words, a man and a young girl untangled, the girl screamed and sat on the floor close to the bed post naked.
"Please, don't kill me – I have money! I am rich and famous – please don't shoot!" the man begged.
The masked man walked towards the naked man, used the tip of his short gun and dangled his penis.
"How come you have a small pintle? Hey, you pretty, do you like it small?" He said walking towards the crying young girl. The young girl frantically shakes her head with tears in her eyes.
"Hahaha! OK, then – time up!" he shot the girl and the man on the head twice and brought out a bag…
As he was about to leave, the girl was lying beside the man in bed with their bowels open; their heart extracted, some intestine cut off and blood was gushing out from their opened stomach.
"See you lovers in hell!" as he said that, he threw a match stick and the room was engulfed in flames and he left.
**
At a well furnished bungalow, a mask man walked into the sitting room with a double barrel gun strapped across his shoulders and with a short gun having silencer pointed at a child's head, he walked in;
"Daddy, help me!" the child screams.
"Who are you? And what are you doing with my boy? Guards! Where are Taker and his boys? Guards!" the father shouted.
"Don't you get – Taker has already been taken care of!" the mask man said grinning.
"Now, where are the money and the precious stone?" the mask man said.
"Please, I am a politician. I have no money. I serve America with all my heart! Please, don't kill my only son!" the father pleaded in between gulps.
"You serve your American belly, right! For the last time, where is the money?" the mask man now points the gun at the child's temple firmly.
"OK, OK! The money is close to the fireplace." The father said.
"Now, go get it!"
"Open it!" as the father opened – minted dollar bill was visible and an emerald looking piece sat on top of it.
"OK. Here you go!" the mask man said pulling the trigger.
The child fell on the ground lifeless and as the father rushed to hold his child, the mask man shot him also…
The mask man walked straight to the door and looked; the father and son was sitting on a sofa facing the T.V set, the father's fingers was cut off and his eyes plucked out while the child's brain fluid was sprawled on both side of his head with fire engulfing the room from sofa to sofa. The mask man laughed and walked away.
**
"You filth, get some rest! Tomorrow the men would be coming harder!" a chubby woman said to a crowd of provocatively dressed nubile damsels and walked to her bedroom.
She heard a tap;
"Rose, not to night, I would think about increasing your pay soon…" before she could complete her statement, the door burst open and a mask man walked in.
"Who are you and what are you doing here!" the woman said slowly moving close to a drawer beside her head rest.
"Hey, bed acrobat! You want to kill a customer without hearing him out?"
The woman quickly retreated.
"So, what do you want? I know you can't resist this!" the woman said taking off her clothes, while the mask man watched; she took her bra off and with her pant; she took it off and rotated it seductively with her forefinger winking at the mask man.
"Wow! My third foot is going wild! But I believe in work before pleasure." Mask man said.
"OK, cowboy, what do you want?" the woman asked.
"Where is the money?"
"There is no money in this house except in here!" the woman said beaming a coquettish smile at the mask man while pointing at her vagina.
"You still don't get – beautiful!" the mask man yells and shot close to the woman.
"OK, OK! Please, underneath the drawer, raise that tile!" she said screaming…
"You won't be able to taste cum again!" the mask man said laughing; as he was cutting off the genitals of the woman, with her lying on the bed – her breast, nose, tongue; cut off and was bleeding profusely.
"Quite a fortune, to come from one's thighs!" the mask man said as he exited the burning room.
**
A man was stocking a caravan at his basement, when he heard his door bell ring; he quickly rushed off to get the door.
"Good morning sir! Are you Mr. Dennis Stratford?" the mail man inquired.
"Yes, of course! And how are you doing today?" the man retorted.
"Fine Sir! Sign here and here."
"OK."
"Thank you very much sir, have a nice day!"
"Wait a minute, here!" the man stretched his hand.
"No, thank you very much. I can't take it, Sir!"
"Oh, come on! Let's call it a tip to wet your gullet!" the man said grinning.
"OK. Thank you very much, Sir! Bye!"
"Bye!" the man said beaming with a smile as the mail man left.
"Now time to go back to my treasure chest!" the man said as he went inside.
**
The masks man was on phone at a house deep in the woods and in front of him was a big bag filled with dollar bills.
"OK. I have gotten the ransom. Your kid is here with me."
"Of course, I won't hurt him. I would send the address where you can find him immediately I hung up."
"OK! Ok!" the mask man said looking at his watch.
"OK! Time up! I can hear the snout of those pigs over there!" the mask man quickly hung up. Then turned towards a teenager who was tied to a chair with his mouth taped;
"Now for being a good boy, I won't hurt you." The masks man said while pouring liquids on the floor.
"Hmm! Hmm! Hmmm!" the boy muttered shaking.
"I just want you to be hot like other rich kids! Hahaha! Bye rich kid!" the mask man said setting the house ablaze with the teenager screaming in pain; he sent a message and threw the phone into the room.
**
The house of El'Papito – a famous Mexican drug baron who lived in America was bubbling. And at his sitting room was thugs with guns, cocaine binge by some men and to the extreme, he was seated at the centre of bags filled with money.
"Bond – take the bags inside!" El'Papito said. Immediately, there was power outage.
"Boys! Be on guard!" El'Papito shouted as he pulled out his golden pistol.
Within a minute, two of his men were down, then the third and…
Then power was restored; El'Papito was groping towards an exit.
"You are really a soft pap!" the masks man said as he emerged from the shadows.
"Who are you?" El'Papito muttered trying to pull the trigger, and then the masks man shot his hand. He fell on the floor writhing in pain.
"Oh, the famous Nicodemus!" El'Papito gruntled.
"Now you know who I am?" the mask man said.
"Yes, since I know that today would be my end, can I at least smoke my cigar?"
"Why not!" the mask man said comically.
El'Papito poured a bottle of wine on two glasses, lit his cigar and sat on a chair.
"You know – you won't make it out here alive?"
"I know, but I am not bothered. But I am only bothered with where your soul would be going to! Pap!" with that he shot El'Papito and drank the wine…
"I think making you an earless eunuch would do!" the masks man said as he exited the room which was in flames.
**
At Arizona hotel – in downtown Michigan, a brusque figure walked through the corridor of the second floor, then on getting to a door, he dangled a bunch of keys;
"Wala! Room 504: time to rest after making the world a better place." He smiled and opened the door.
At an arm chair, he saw the silhouette of a man sitting and he switched the light on. Then, he saw a mask man before him and quickly brought out his gun and pointed it at the mask man.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?"
"Hachraf Majib – the renowned terrorist, I heard you just enlight the prime minister some minutes ago. And I came over to party with you with the tip." The mask man said and laughed uncontrollably.
"Enough of this madness; I said who are you – CIA, LAPD or SWAT?" Majib said with utmost focus.
"Only a brother; why not come in and find out!" the masks man said raising his hands up slowly.
As Majib took two steps forward, he shouted clutching his thighs as both of his limb was cut off.
"You love my lasers?"
The mask man walked towards Majib took his gun and …
He carried a brief case filled with money and at the arm chair was Majib tied wearing a jacket wired with bomb, he wriggled as the tick-tock sound goes.
"Some minutes before Christmas fireworks!" the mask man jeered and shut the door.
At the parking lot of the hotel, the mask man pressed a button and a room in the second floor exploded.
**
The mask man walked into a house, sat on the sitting room and switched on the T.V set.
Minutes later, a man wearing a night gown came and walked towards him with a club.
"Don't move. Who sent you? Pablo?"
"No, me! I sent myself! I am not a baseball fan and my head is no good to score point. So, where is the gold and snow?" the mask man said laughing.
Then, the man on night gown swung his club swiftly, the mask man ducked and it hit the sofa and they engaged in a scuffle…
The mask man struck the man's two eyes out and supported himself up with the club, dragged the man over to the fireplace and grilled his face.
Then, he sat on a sofa, exhaled and took off his masks, immediately a pregnant woman emerged from the staircase and screamed.
The mask man gestured with his gun towards the woman; she walked slowly towards him fidgeting and said:
"Please, don't shoot me. I won't tell anyone!"
"Oh, woman – I won't. But have you seen my face?" the mask man said.
Then three kids emerged screaming;
"Mummy!" they embraced their mother and hide behind her.
"Now the party's invites soars!" the mask man said…
The woman was lying beside her husband disemboweled and her three kids. The mask man put the fetus inside a black bag, set the room on fire and whistled away.
*****
Mr. Stratford was at his basement, close to the entrance was a huge cage with a sewage disposal system; he walked towards the cage.
"Hey, buddy Bucephalus! I brought you something special!" Mr. Stratford said. He dipped his hand into a bag and brought out a mangled flesh that looks like a fetus – threw it into the cage.
There Bucephalus – a well fed dog with the size and ferociousness of an adult wolf, sprang up and rushed the meat wagging its tail.
He then walked towards the opposite direction humming and when he got to a board, with flies buzzing aloud. He inhaled and smiled. He pinned a miniature heart close to the others that consists of human parts: eyes, breast, vagina, skull e.t.c. Then he sprinkled formaldehyde on them and as he stared at his collections, he reminisced;
("Please don't kill my kids" the pregnant woman pleaded. Instantly, he shot the three kids and struck her head with his gun.
When she gained consciousness, he was tearing her bowels about to extract the fetus,
"You are such a heartless creature! I place a curse on you – until you die, I and my kids would not stop haunting you and when you die, you would never find rest, your ghost will roam in your house in torture and your soul would be damned but you would beg to see the fires of hell! Arrgh!" the pregnant woman screamed and breathed her last.)
Mr. Stratford smiled and walked to the extreme of the basement, there a gigantic caravan lay. He opened it and threw a bag filled with money, and then he heard a growling sound.
"Who's there?" he shouted.
Then as he turned around, he saw the pregnant woman and her kids looking pale in flashes before him, he pulled out his short gun, pressed the trigger but it was not responsive.
Then the female child stepped forward with a rattan; her eye socket hole was black and her eye ball was falling out. She swung the rattan and struck Mr. Stratford sending him to the ground. Then, he quickly scampered on the floor and dashed towards the exit of the basement and a repeated gnawing laughter echoed in the basement.
**
Mr. Stratford was lying on his bed coughing, and then he heard his phone ring.
"Yes Manager, I am the one who demanded for it. I want you to close my bank account and send the money over to my house."
"Yes, you can stack them at my doorstep. I would pick it up."
"I know it is quite huge."
"Yes, it would be safe with me!"
"Of course I am OK. I hope to see you soon. Remember to keep your tip! Thanks a lot!"
As he hung up the phone, he looked at his body, it was fast decaying and worms were emanating from the pus. At his head was the ghost of the three kids plucking his hairs out and their mother stood at his feet; sullen looking. Mr. Stratford just closed his eyes and tears rolled down his cheek.
**
At exactly noon, in Citibank of North Dakota, the front door was burst open and a gang of robbers entered the premises;
"Everybody down!" the leader said shooting into the air.
Everyone at the first floor lied down in fear and another member dragged a well dressed female towards their leader.
"Boss, this lady was at the counter!"
"Wow! She is as hot as a minted dollar note!" the leader jeered with another gang member poking him at his rib with a gun in disgust.
"OK. Where is the manager? I just want this to be quick as a quickie!"
Then, the fourth gang member came down from the stairs pulling a well dressed gentleman on his collars towards their leader and on getting there, he thrust the man forward.
"Please don't shoot, I am the manager and I would give you whatever you want!" the manager said sweating profusely with his hands raised as he knelt down…
Minutes later, the gang leader was standing in front of three oblong bags filled with cash.
"Hope it is complete!" the gang leader inquired.
"Yes. That is all we have in cash here!"
Immediately, two gang members stationed outside the bank premises, charged into the bank;
"The fuzz is here!" then…
**
At a room on the second floor, Mr. Stratford was standing on a dark triangle of ancient thaumaturgy muttering an incantation while gesticulating with his hands. He was wearing a black loose garment with hood.
Then, after some minutes, a dark smoke erupted from the triangle and a monstrous looking beast stood in front of him.
"Dark Lord – greetings!" Mr. Stratford bowed in obeisance.
"Yes, my servant!" the monster replied with a deep reverberating baritone.
"I am here again. I have offered my sacrifice and served you for years but now I am troubled deeply. My body is decaying and I am tormented by a pregnant woman and her kids. The worst of it all – I feel my days are fading away!"
"Hahaha! Dennis Stratford! Your curse is beyond me. I have tried to suppress her spirit but it is unyielding; she has a vengeful soul. You would have to live with the torment until you die!" the monster replied.
"But Dark Lord; you said I could mess with anyone I please?"
"Yes! Even some farts are accompanied by faeces! So not every signal from the stomach, we can tell the outcome."
"But…" Mr. Stratford said.
"Enough of your whining! There is only one fallen demon – I know that can be of help to you. He is the highest on earth and the Lord of the New World Order! You know how to find him! The monster said.
"What of the woman and her kids?" Mr. Stratford inquired.
"I will buy you an additional three days! Hahaha!!!" as the demons voice echoed, he vanished away.
**
Mr. Stratford walked into a dome, towards an altar filled with abominable and blasphemy; close to the altar he stood bowing his head.
"Darkest Lord – your servant summons you!"
"Welcome my child! I know why you are here." A feminine horrific voice sounded from the altar.
"Your curse can only be broken; if you offer your soul to me!" the voice cackled gnawingly.
"How Darkest Lord?" Mr. Stratford inquired.
"There!" instantly a knife appeared on the altar.
"Pick it up and offer your blood at that ditch close to the foot of the altar."
Mr. Stratford took the knife, severed his left palm and his blood poured into a labyrinth close to the altar, horrendous sounds of gullet hydration and scuffles erupted from the labyrinth. Then a dark smoke emerged from it and a mark was inscribed on Mr. Stratford's forehead.
"Your soul is now ours!" the voice cackled.
"The pregnant woman jinxed you with a terrible curse that can't be undone. So you must die!" Mr. Stratford was heartbroken.
"But she laid a curse that can also make you invincible and immortal as long as your house stands! Now listen! After you die, your spirit would continue to roam in your mansion, as I am a Lord in hell, I would make your damnation not to be accompanied by hell task masters. But if anyone demolishes your mansion, you would report to hell and your punishment would be threefold!" the voice paused.
"Darkest Lord: what of immortality?" Mr. Stratford inquired.
"As your soul roams in your mansion, the more life you take, the more you can take on any physical form you want. But your physical transformation would be restricted by sunlight. But at night you can be human, immortal and invincible! Remember, your stay on earth depends on your mansion; guard it with your life! Hahaha!" the voice cackled.
Then Mr. Stratford erupted with great laughter as he bows before the altar.
**
Seven days later, Mr. Stratford ran and sat on his bed, he couldn't move as his body was transfixed by some forces beyond him.
"Please, don't kill me!" he shouted.
Then, the pregnant woman emerged in company of her kids, she stretched her hands forward in it was the fetus covered in blood and she laughed along with her daughter with a howling sound accompanied by the hoot of an owl.
Suddenly, her two sons walked to where Mr. Stratford sat shaking; they slapped him on the cheek severally and at the seventh round, his neck twisted with his face in line with his spine. Then he dropped on the bed dead. At that instant, the four ghosts vanished.
*****
At an executive hotel bedroom, the T.V set was blaring: America's number one bank – Trust bank of South Dakota, was robbed by a gang of six armed robbers today, even though a gun duel ensued between the cops and the gang, they made away with a large sum of money. This is the sixth bank heist by the six man gang and what is on the lips of all customers of every financial institution in America is: "How save is our financial institution?"
In other news, the citizens of America celebrated the fourth year without any incidence from the popular and revered burglar and arsonist – Nicodemus – by taking to the streets. States like California, New York City, Colorado and Michigan took it a step further by giving its citizens holiday to mark the novel NICODEMUS DAY! From Washington D.C, its Roxanne Jane, American Network news.
At a sofa close to the bed, Chan and Ayra was smooching and caressing.
"Boss! Boss!" James called out. Chan reluctantly flashed a middle finger towards James; still engrossed with Ayra.
"Boss!" Bruce called out.
"What Bruce, can't I have some free time? Next time, you guys need to have a room to yourself. I promise!" as Chan burst out in disgust untangling from Ayra's grip.
"I think the nerd has something to say!" Bruce a muscular figure said pointing at James.
"Or chicken heart you mean!" Ayra said as she perched on the arm of the sofa close to Chan with her hand folded underneath her breast.
"Boss, today's mission nearly cost our lives, the risk involved in pulling a bank heist is enormous. I think we should delve into another niche." James said.
"Hahaha! James…" Chan laughed.
"I think James is right. Today I was shot by fuzz, if not for the foolproof vest, I would have been dead." Ayra said poking Chan and his demeanor changed.
"OK. What do you suggest our hunch king – Wiz!" Chan inquired.
"I say, we mimic Nicodemus – that is burglary and arson." Wiz said.
"Stan – any counter hunch!" Chan inquired.
"Nope boss that is cool!" Stan replied.
"I love the sound of fire and screams emanating from it!" Chan said cheerfully.
"No, no – Chan! We won't kill anyone. We go there, sedate anyone in sight, plunder and burn. No death! I don't want bloodshed." Ayra interrupted.
"Yes. I think that is cool!"Bruce joined.
"Even you – Bruce! What of if the fuzz shows up? What do we then do?" Chan inquired.
"OK. We carry guns along but strictly on tranquilizers except fuzz emerge." Ayra said.
"OK; Fine by me then!" Chan said.
"To Nicodemus accomplice!" Chan shouted.
"To Nicodemus accomplice!" the others echoed. And they jammed their glasses together and drank at a gulp.
"At least, can I now smell some pantie!" Chan said as he tickled Ayra and she fell into his arms smiling.
"Boys evacuate the room. It's about to go down!" Chan said with a deep tone. The others at a glance sprang unto the bed, leaving Chan and Ayra looking at them with scorn.
*****
The home of Stewart Curtis, a rich business magnate, was bubbling and teenagers were going wild with ecstasy and alcoholic binge. Then, smoke started emanating from the four corners of the gigantic sitting room. With all gasping for breath, some of the teenagers lost consciousness and the few that tried to exit the room were suffocated. Then, six masked figure emerged, scanned the floor and spotted a face;
"That is Dianna Curtis. Men she is hot like hell!" Wiz said as he tries to raise a teenager wearing a skimpy pink dress with black stiletto heels from the floor.
"Wiz, control your trouser snake. OK, change of plans; it is no good placing yam close to a goat. Ayra and Bruce take her up and get the money! Wiz has fun with those sprawled on the floor with your raping naked eyes!" Chan said smiling at the frustrated Wiz…
At the compound of Stewart Curtis, were a large number of teenagers lying on the floor, with each of the six masked figure strapping a bag on their shoulders. Then, Wiz shouted;
"The party was lit!" and the building exploded in flames.
The six masked figure walked away laughing and minutes after they have gone, a teenager woke up and screamed…
**
Two lovers were in bed; cuddling and laughing, when they heard a tap on the door.
"Who?" the male inquired.
"Room service!" a voice responded from the door.
"Room service this late?" the male reasoned.
"Babe, did you order anything?" the male asked, the female only shakes her head while pouting.
"Go away, we didn't order anything!" the male shouted.
Then, the door burst open.
"Babe, what is this? You set me up?"
"No, I didn't! I don't know who they are!"
"Now, shut up! You two! Where is the money before I quench your vile passions in hell!" the leader shouted.
"Please, don't kill me, it's over there!" the male said pointing at a briefcase underneath the bed.
Then a gang member retrieved and opened it.
"Please, my wife hasn't tasted a dime from it, spare a little for her please!" the male pleaded.
"You know, if you had taken your winnings home, none of this would have happened. But here you are with a whore having the time of your life!" a gang member said jabbing the male's balls. He fell on the bed writhing in pain and both of them were shot…
At the park of the hotel, the gang leader said,
"Ayra, make sure you give an extra dose of sedative to both of them, I want to drop a dime on his infidelity. Bruce have fun!" instantly, a room on the last floor of the hostel exploded with all lodgers thrown into frenzy.
**
At a room in Tulip hotel in Colorado, Chan and the others were watching the T.V:
The spectacle behind me is that of Arnold Blaine, the lottery winner, his mistress and his embittered wife. Any woman in the world would do likewise after seeing your man and his mistress butt naked at a park…
We have felt the pulse of American citizens, one thing they are all saying in Unisom is that the gang of six – burglars and arsons – is not Nicodemus; since they are merciful but whether Nicodemus or the merciful six as they are called by the American populace, the security architecture should clip their wings.
From the streets of Denver, it's Stella Bassett and Roxanne Jane, A.N news.
Bruce quickly switched off the T.V with the others erupting with laughter as Wiz mimics Arnold Blaine by running haphazardly holding the flap underneath his trousers.
**
The sound of an upbeat rap song was blaring from an apartment withdrawn in the woods.
There a big goggles; nauseating and crank figure sat with the lights off, except for light from his laptop screen and a lamp close to the laptop, the room was dimly light. He swiftly punches several keys on his laptop and smashed the last key loud enough and shouted;
"Boom, in and out! I am a genius! Soon world bank would be bankrupt!" the crank figure exhilarated.
Then, sound was heard at the balcony; and the front door was opened, six figures emerged from the shadows and stood inside the room. The crank figure quickly closed his laptop and hide underneath the table…
"It is done. I have wired the money to your accounts!" the crank figure said with jiggery hands.
"Boss, I have seen the notification!" one gang member said.
"What of if the nerd sends us a fake notification, he sure can pull that stunt – you know!" another gang member cuts in.
"The notification is real, I can't trick you! Please don't shoot!" the crank figure begged closing his eyes expectantly.
"If he tries it, then we would blow his complex brain!" the gang leader said…
The crank figure woke up and saw his apartment burning; he was transfixed – wide eyed – shouting helplessly,
"My laptop, all my codes!"
**
The merciful six has been on rampage lately, taking up from where Nicodemus stopped, some says they might be the same gang that has pulled series of bank heist in America. But with their fame …
In other news, after the burial of the renowned American entrepreneur – Dennis Stratford of Stratford Pharmaceuticals, some facts are emerging about the American billionaire.
Chris O'Connor, his former shares and financial manager said that late Dennis Stratford before he died withdrew all his money from his numerous bank accounts and sold his shares. And no one knows why. Also, Dennis Stratford has no seed or next of kin…
Also on Dennis Stratford, the neighbors close to his mansion are saying that there have been recent cases of missing persons around the vicinity due to a fierce wolf looking beast, which patrols the premises.
Since the building is desolated, the government of the state is putting it out for sales within a period of seven days. On the seventh day, the building would be demolished and it would be owned by the government. Any interested persons can go to the state ministry of commerce, Massachusetts, Boston, U.S.A.
From the state house in Boston – Roxanne Jane, A.N news.
Chan was lost in deep thoughts.
"Boss, what is the problem!" James said brushing Chan on the shoulder.
"Yes!" Chan jerked.
"I think the late Dennis Stratford must have stashed all his money in a vault, somewhere – maybe inside his mansion!" Chan said.
"Mind-game lord!" Ayra said grinning.
"Like him trying to pay his way to heaven?" Bruce inquired.
"Yes, something likes that! Or what do you think Wiz and Stan?" Chan inquired.
"I believe you are right!" Wiz responded while Stan nodded.
"So what do we do?" James cut in.
"We need two trucks, one with a crane while the other without it. Bruce gets in touch with Drew, the truck driver, Ayra and Wiz – ammunitions!" Chan instructed.
"But Chan, do we really need guns?" Ayra said.
"The last time I checked, Hercules was a male!" Chan said flashing a condescending look at her.
Then, Chan stood up, motioning with his hands…
*****
Two trucks were heading towards the gate of Stratford's mansion, on getting to the gate, they stopped and Bruce alighted from the hind truck and walked towards the gate. As he got close to the gate, the padlock broke and the gate flung wide open. He quickly ran back to the truck and after some time they drove into the premises.
The six of them alighted;
"Bruce, calm down. You are acting like a kid. You want to tell us that the gate opened without anyone touching it; soon you would be telling us about zombies!" Chan laughed as he made a mindless parade with the others laughing.
At that instant, a fierce dog with the semblance of a wolf charged towards them, pounced on James and pushed him down. Within a split second, James's right hand was chopped off, his eyes dangled out of its socket save for an eyestring holding it back and his throat was severed with blood gushing out. He made an indistinct chatter towards the others.
The fierce dog charged towards Chan, who shot at it severally and as it dived towards him, Ayra cut it down with a swing of her axe.
"Chan, you see! I think this place is haunted, we should leave!" Bruce said startled.
"Enough! We have lost James, so there is no going back!" Chan shouted.
"Drew, stay here. Others follow me!" Chan instructed and …
The front door was opened and Stan stepped in. The lights was fluctuating and he heard a growl some feet's away,
"Who is there?" Stan shouted pointing his gun towards the direction, light flashed and he saw an eyra feeding on the carcass of a man; it scuttled.
Then at each flash of the dim light, he saw flashes of a human figure appearing at the four corners of the room. He walked with uncertain steps towards the dining table; then, his leg brushed a can and its content spilled.
Instantly, the human figure appeared before him in full glare with a lit match and threw it on the floor. Stan was engulfed in flames, screaming and running helplessly and the human figure sniggered in tormenting echoes.
Bruce was at the front of the garage;
"I should call Chan and tell him – all clear! I know this place is haunted any further than this, I am going to pee on my trousers!" Bruce soliloquies.
Then, he heard a faint sound coming from the garage. He walked slowly towards the switch and illuminated the room; with his fingers on the trigger, he traces his foot to the door of a red car, stepping on a rug close to the door as he opened the door, the rug gave way and he fell into a large manhole –his skull was crushed, pipes impaling his eyes and his manhood was severed.
Wiz was at the door of the bedroom, a foul odour emanated from the room, and then he opened the door and found the remains of a man lying on the bed.
He walked up to it, rubbed his forefinger over the remains and sniffed.
"I thought late Stratford was buried; oh, an imposter!" Wiz said laughing.
Then, a whirlwind blew and a force thrust him into the bed, he tries to move but was unable and he started screaming staring in front of him.
As a spindle motioned by a mechanism, was swiftly spinning a circular saw towards him, with a slow longitudinal motion; the saw hacked him in two and his halves fell apart.
Chan and Ayra were walking through a corridor, and then they saw a door, opened it and descended down the stairs. Holding their nose, they walked closely with a lit touch, as they got to the entrance of the adjoining room, the sound of a T.V set blared immediately.
Then Chan entered and Ayra reluctantly came along. They passed a large opened cage filled with bones, in the opposite direction, they stood staring at a board with flies revolving around festered human parts and Ayra spat.
"This place is hell!" Ayra said.
"Late Stratford must be a heck of an asshole!" Chan remarked slowly.
Then as they moved further, they saw a caravan.
"You see that!" Chan pointed at the caravan with his torch.
"I don't think this is a good idea!" Ayra said pointing at the lock of the caravan.
"That should be a padlock or something, not some red bandana!" Ayra said motioning towards the piece of cloth used to hold the caravan doors together.
Then, Chan stepped forward, loosened the knot on the lock, opened it and they were staring at a stash of cash, valuables and documents.
"Here you go!" Chan said swirling his hand in the air like a conjurer before taking a light bow.
"Look out!" Ayra shouted intervening; pushing Chan away.
An inverted triangle-like mechanism – tripod – with sharp points at the apex and a rotating prick at the base thrust Ayra through cutting off her breast and piercing through her vagina with its apex hook; leaving her body swinging to and fro in mid-air.
Chan remained on the floor weeping and after a while caught the mechanism and brought Ayra down, kissed her and wailed…
"Drew! Bring the truck over to the …" Chan backed at his walkie-talkie.
**
"Drew! Is the caravan seated on the truck?" Chan said looking at his rear mirror.
Drew lifted his thumb and the truck jerked backwards.
"Drew! Drew! I didn't move the truck, it just…" Chan said alighting from the truck. As he stepped down, he saw the caravan sharp edges on Drew's head; his skull was crushed with whitish fluid splattered on the floor.
"Drew! Drew!" Chan shouted running towards …
**
Chan parked the truck carrying the caravan in front of a secluded house in the woods, stared at it for a while and exhaled.
Minutes later, he was inside the room, with an upbeat song blasting from a loudspeaker. He drank to his full and fell asleep on a sofa.
He was woken up, by a burning smell, as he looked in front of him, he saw Mr. Stratford sitting opposite him smiling. Then, he realized that there was a knot on his neck, both of his hands was tied together at his back and he was standing on a stool naked. A metal ring was worn on his manhood and the extending metal from his manhood was touching a liquid on the floor.
Then Mr. Stratford winked and threw a lit match stick on the floor. After some minutes, he started screaming, with the metal to his manhood being red hot and then his balls exploded. He screamed, while at the same time trying to balance the stool. Then, the foot of the stool gave way and he was gasping for breath.
Mr. Stratford walked to the door, stood for a while staring at him and slammed the door with a reverberating cackle as flames engulfed the room.
**
Today, late Mr. Dennis Stratford's mansion was purchased by an unknown Russian business mogul named Kolarov Zichenko …
The T.V set in the basement was filled with rasters and a tuning sound blared.
Then an A4 paper blown by the wind; glued to the T.V screen and on it was written – Deeds of purchase by Mr. Kolarov Zichenko …
In the far left corner of the basement was the caravan on it was written –
Your blood for it
– NICODEMUS.
Then, a demonic cackle erupted with the sound of exiting footsteps.