Song: Mi Casa, Su Casa — Korede Bello (Someone — American, I presume — literally asked me "You write good English for an African, but how do you have an electronic device?"💀)

*Unedited* (Y'all aren't going to see the ending coming, I bet you🌝)

I woke up chained in a bathtub. My hands and ankles were shackled together in such an uncomfortable position that I couldn't move. My wrists were forced beneath me and the chains that held them bound were connected to the chains that held my ankles bound too. It was a very uncomfortable situation, but at least I wasn't dead yet.

I lifted my head and looked around me, finding Kofi in a slumped position, eyes shut. Turning to the right, I immediately recoiled upon seeing Mr. Faye looking at me with those cold, poisonous eyes. I shuddered, wondering if he'd been watching me while I slept.

"You're awake? Marvellous," he said. He went to Kofi and delivered an elbow jab to the side of his head. "Wake up, you fool."

Kofi was startled awake, coming to attention quickly. He blinked multiple times to adjust his eyes to the light. He sat up, looked at his uncle, looked at me, then stood. "What is this?" He asked.

Mr. Faye looked at him, his green eyes filled with venom. "I was wondering how to get the job done," he carefully placed the gun he was holding at his feet. "I'm not into gore, so stabbing and all that bloody crap is out of the picture."

"You're not into gore?" Kofi frowned. "Look at my parents."

Mr. Faye smiled proudly. The smile disappeared from his face in an instant. It was strange how he was like that. He'd smile and the smile would just disappear from his face, or he'd be frowning and suddenly smile out of nowhere. He was insane like that.

"I thought about having her burnt alive, but that would be too quick and again, I don't like gore. Buried alive, but then I changed my mind because that would give you enough time to rescue her. Then I thought about just drowning her."

So that was why I was in a bathtub. Honestly, I was calm because I didn't believe that I was going to die that night. Call it intuition or overconfidence, I just knew that I wasn't going to die that night.

"I won't let you do that," Kofi said.

"I'm not done, be quiet. I'm not going to drown her anymore, I changed my mind. See, while you both were knocked out, I thought of the movie 'Titanic' for some reason. I thought freezing to death was romantic," he cocked his head to the right. "So I'm going to fill that tub with cold water. Maybe thirty–two degrees? I heard that can lead to death in about fifteen minutes."

Kofi eyed the gun on the ground, then quickly lifted his eyes so that his father wouldn't catch the movement. He observed the insane man with intense hatred. "And after that? What happens? Will you kill me?"

"We'll get there when we get there," he said. He came to me and turned on the Jacuzzi's water jets.

I closed my eyes, anticipating the cold bite of the water, but when the water began to surround me, it wasn't cold at all. Mr. Faye observed me, probably watching for my reaction. When I looked at him, he smiled. He removed a piece of cloth from his coat pocket and bound my mouth. He did it in a way that prevented my tongue from getting enough space to move. The gag was pressing down on it, I couldn't even close my mouth fully.

What was the lunatic planning?

"Where did you take my parents?" Was the first thing Kofi asked as he saw the water surrounding me. His eyes were darting around the bathroom, going to the gun, then coming back to me. He was panicking. He was being too obvious about what he was planning to do.

"They're downstairs. If you want, you may join them after your lover is dead."

The man obviously wasn't planning on killing me. The water was quite warm even. It was just how I liked it. I could lay in it and take a long nap if I wasn't so uncomfortable due to the unnatural positions my body was in.

"Do you actually think I'm just going to stand there and watch you kill her?" His hands were fidgeting now. His finger tugged at his collar while he took in a breath. What was he nervous about? Killing Mr. Faye? He should have no problem! The man was lost already. His mind was... he was demented!

"I didn't expect you to," Mr. Faye took his coat off, throwing it on the side of the jacuzzi. He leaned his stick on the tub too. "If you fight me and win, I'll give you the keys to the chains and you can free her. If you lose, well, she and your parents die."

Kofi's features contorted into a frown. "Fight you? You're an old man. Do you actually expect to win?" He was getting more confident, realising that he was the superior one in the department of physical strength. But he was still nervous and fidgety. He was annoying me.

"Let's see," Mr. Faye said. He removed the vest and rolled up his sleeves. "What are you waiting for? Let's fight."

The corner of Kofi's lips curved up into a smile. He was wearing a shirt so there was no removing of clothes for him. His eyes still strayed to the gun on the ground, but then he smirked and looked up. He must've thought that he didn't need it.

The two men circled each other like a predator eyeing its prey, just who was the prey and who was the predator, I wasn't sure of yet. Kofi charged. Arms up, both men's hands clashed as they fought for dominance. Kofi was stronger so he began to weigh his uncle down, but Mr. Faye quickly turned them around, using Kofi's strength against him.

Kofi fell and his uncle delivered a kick to his spine. Kofi groaned, pressing his palms against the ground. He used that momentum to do a surprise jump, catching his uncle off guard. He charged at him, bent slightly so that his shoulder rammed into Mr. Faye's torso.

Mr. Faye staggered back, but he didn't fall. Instead, he lifted his knee and struck Kofi's belly. Kofi groaned again and tried to pull away, but his opponent held him steady. He continued ramming his knee into his belly and that was when I began to struggle against the chains. If I had continued that foolery, I would've definitely dislocated my shoulder.

I just wanted to let him know that I wasn't dying. He was still panicking and it was causing him to be sloppy with his movements.

"All that cockiness yet even after studying martial arts, you're still that little boy I used to beat into a bloody pulp," he laughed, throwing Kofi away like a rag doll.

Kofi's hand came to clutch his belly, then fell away as quickly as it came up. Eyes burning with rage, he got to his feet, dusting his shirt off. He turned around and looked at me. He took in the way my eyes were wide and my shoulders were fidgeting as my hands worked to come out of those chains, and he must've thought that I was dying. I was only trying to communicate to him that I wasn't dying.

Kofi turned to his father. "Release her. Release her or I swear that I'll make you pay."

"You can make me pay right now and release her," he taunted, gesturing that he come for round two with his hands.

Kofi stepped forward, his arms lifting into a defensive stance. He had his back to me so I couldn't see his face, but even by the way his shoulders were quivering, I knew that he was terrified. Maybe if he'd been in better mental shape, he would've been done with his uncle a long time ago. In fact, not maybe, he would have.

His uncle had abused him for years, revealed that he kept his parents like animals for eighteen years and he was now threatening to kill the girl he loved. Kofi was shaken and obviously not mentally prepared for that fight.

"Give me the keys," Kofi said, drawing nearer to the man cautiously.

"They're in my trouser pocket. Tell you what, you don't even have to beat me. You just need to get close enough and hold me down long enough to get them out. So, are you game?"

Mr. Faye was playing a game with Kofi. I just couldn't understand what he was hoping to gain from this.

Kofi lunged without warning, this time, managing to spear his uncle to the ground. He straddled him and quickly began delivering consistent blows to the man's face. I looked away, disgusted, when the first few droplets of blood began flying.

Mr. Faye grabbed Kofi's fists, stopping the assault. Letting an animalistic sound fly from his lips, he threw Kofi off his torso. He grabbed his shirt and backed him against the wall. Once his back was pressed against the wall, Mr. Faye began delivering his own set of non–stop punches.

Kofi went limp in the man's hands as his face was being redecorated. I realised that I would have to do something if I wanted him to leave this place alive. I began to struggle harder, slightly afraid that my either or both of my shoulders might pop. Then I stopped. I would have to break some bones before I could get out of the chains. This was real life, the chains wouldn't magically come off.

Mr. Faye dropped Kofi, his body curling as soon as he hit the ground. I thought he'd fainted and was grateful when I heard him moan in pain. "You've always been so weak and pathetic," Mr. Faye said, then lifted his foot and brought it down on Kofi's hand. Kofi yelled, the sound deeply masculine and full of pain.

I sucked in a breath and ran my fingers along the chains. My fingers roamed, sending the message to my brain that he'd simply wrapped a chain around my wrists so many times that I couldn't even find where it began or ended. I didn't feel any padlocks or anything that required a key, so why was he lying to Kofi?

I returned my attention to the two men just in time to see Mr. Faye throw his nephew almost four feet away from him. Right beside the gun.

"You will always be weak and pathetic. Nobody loves you and nobody ever will," he said. He turned to me with those eyes that would haunt me for a long time. He came and removed the gag from my mouth. "Isn't that right?"

Kofi lifted his head, his bloody face and attention turned to me. Did he want to see what my answer would be? He didn't have to put me on the spot like that. It wasn't fair.

"Isn't that right?" Mr. Faye repeated menacingly.

I sighed, ignoring Kofi's eyes. I didn't want to look at him at that moment. "His brothers love him."

"No, they don't," Mr. Faye laughed. "They feel sorry for him. They feel a sense of responsibility to him because he's their 'brother', but they don't love him. Who could love someone like this?" His fingers pointed to Kofi.

I didn't look. Heck, I couldn't look because my heart was aching for him. I wasn't proud of myself for not being able to lie in that moment. I should've lied. I shouldn't have let Mr. Faye have the last laugh. Everything he'd done was much more despicable than all the things Kofi had done to me, but the lie was just too heavy. You don't lie about loving someone.

"Look, nephew," Mr. Faye laughed, the sound disappearing after a split second, "she doesn't love you either. How sad. Your parents aren't in the position to love you and even if they were, your mother certainly wouldn't. All she loves is her body. Your father wouldn't either, not when you're a reminder of the woman he could never have. How sad," he laughed again, this one lasting longer than a second. He left my side after gagging me again, probably going back to torture Kofi.

I needed to dislocate my thumb, at least. It would give me the illusion of having four fingers and enable me to slip through the chains. Once the first hand was out, the chains would automatically fall off, then I could take them off my feet too. The problem was that my pain receptors wouldn't let me dislocate my thumb. I needed to do it swiftly before my brain caught wind of what I was doing.

"Move, and I'll shoot."

I turned back to the men upon hearing Kofi's voice. He'd done it. He'd grabbed the gun and he was pointing it at his uncle. Thank God. There was no way I'd be able to dislocate my thumb, both my brain and I knew that.

"Ah," his uncle smirked, "put that thing down before you hurt yourself."

"I will shoot you," Kofi said.

"Really?" Mr. Faye turned his pockets out. There was no key. "And let your lover die? Okay, go ahead!"

I was an idiot. I should've told Kofi that I wasn't dying as soon as the gag came out. I was so foolish. I would need to dislocate my thumb after all.

Kofi spared me a glance and I cringed. His face was bloody. When he spoke, his teeth were coloured red. "Give it to me, or I'll shoot you."

"How many minutes do you think it has been? Ten, I believe. Which one do you think is acting on her now, hypothermia or frostbite?"

"The keys!" Kofi bellowed.

"Put the gun down and I'll give them to you."

"You think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"Yes, really."

Kofi needed to shoot! Why wouldn't the idiot at least come and test the temperature of the water? Why was he so stupid?

I bit my lip. It was now or never. My right hand's index and thumb grabbed onto my left thumb. I used the rest of my fingers, wrapping them around the thumb. I closed my eyes, held my breath... and twisted.

Ouch.

I wasn't expecting it to hurt as much as it did. I was an idiot. How did I think it wasn't going to hurt? My eyes flew open, my heart raced as the pain spread to my entire hand and I cried out. It was muffled because of the gag. I was grateful for that.

I continued to breathe steadily as the pain diminished. I closed my eyes and leaned back, enjoying the warmth of the water while it lasted. Before I knew what was happening, Mr. Faye had Kofi on his knees when I looked over, holding the gun and pointing it to his forehead.

Idiot. Kofi was an idiot. Love was stupid. Nobody knew what it really was anyway. It made people stupid.

I took another breath and shook my left hand free of the chains. It hurt when I moved it, but it was nothing serious compared to the pain of the bullet I received earlier. They came off my right hand too easily, and I quickly removed the gag. Taking the chains off my feet was much more difficult and time–consuming than I expected, especially with one dysfunctional hand. I had to find one end of the chain and then unravel it until the whole thing came off.

I was grateful that none of them looked at me during the time it took. When I looked at them again, Kofi was on the ground and his uncle was pelting him with kicks. I'd never seen someone dominating Kofi in a fight like that. It made me realise how vulnerable we all were. How vulnerable I was.

I stood from the bath slowly, and took one foot out. I looked up, judging whether either of them could hear me. Kofi's cries of pain had drowned out any noise I was making, so I was able to get out and gather the chains in one hand and four fingers. My thumb was swinging uselessly and looking at it just made me want to barf, so I put my left hand behind me.

I made a noose with the chains, my right hand being the knot at the end. I inched closer to them, perfectly within the view of Kofi's uncle, but he was too busy punishing him to notice. It was when I was directly in front of him that he looked up, and I took his shock as an opportunity to throw the noose around his neck.

I ran behind him and lifted my foot, pressing it against his lower back and pulling the makeshift noose tight against his neck. It would've been so much more effective if I had two functional hands. I didn't stand a chance with one hand.

He turned around, lifted the noose from around his neck and threw it at me. I staggered back and the man rushed and grabbed my neck in his hand. "I was kind enough to let you live, and this is how you repay me? Don't worry, I'll snap your neck with my bare hands now."

Where's a left hand when you need one?

"No, you won't," I said, smirking. I'd learnt the tactic from television — a virtual self–defence class — and it makes me wonder why the actors on television never did it. When someone much bigger than you was strangling you, you go for their eyes. They're vulnerable, and your attacker can't help but let you go. So that's what I did. I shoved two of the working fingers of my left hand into his left eye.

The man cried out and dropped me, clutching his hands to his eye. I wasted no time. I shot up and tightened the chain noose around his neck again, not caring that his arm was preventing the noose from cutting his air off. All I needed was for his hand around the gun to loosen and for the gun to fall.

He didn't make it easy for me. He was struggling against my hold, his left eye moist, tearing and red. I smiled wickedly. I was angry and I felt no compassion, so I stuck two more fingers in his other eye. He cried out and let go of the gun.

Bingo.

I still wasn't wasting any time. I wasn't going to point the gun at him and talk for no reason. I wasn't an idiot. I picked the gun and fired.

I was aiming for his chest, precisely his heart, but it was the first time I was handling a gun. I ended up shooting him in the shoulder. Still, his hand went to the shoulder and he staggered back, refusing to fall.

It was then that Kofi lifted his head, his face bruised. "Elorm, don't. Please."

I took my eyes off Mr. Faye to give Kofi a deathly glare. "Shut up. Don't you dare ask me not to do this, you fool." I steadied myself, then shot again.

Shooting was much harder than I thought. The second bullet went awry, far above his head. I groaned and lifted my barely functional hand, realising that I would need two hands for this. My thumb was a useless piece of trash so it wasn't really raising my chances.

I cocked the gun, ready to pull the trigger one last time when Kofi jumped and tackled me. I cried out in annoyance, falling underneath him. "What is wrong with you? What do you think you're doing?" I struggled against him on the ground, my finger still resting on the trigger.

"You can't kill him. Elorm, please," he begged, his eyes desperate.

"Are you crazy? You're mad, aren't you? What is this? You're just as ill as he is!" I lifted my knee and rammed it into his groin.

His eyes bulged and his teeth gritted, spittle flying from his mouth. The veins in his neck clenched and popped, but he didn't fall off me. He was too heavy for me to push him off with one dysfunctional hand and another one holding a gun.

"Kofi, get off me before I do something I will regret," I said, stilling beneath him, my voice having a note of finality to it.

"Well done, nephew," Mr. Faye beamed, bending over and clutching his bleeding shoulder. "You have reached the highest point of stupidity ever attainable by mankind. How does it feel? It must feel great because this is all you'll manage to attain in your life."

"You're crushing my ribs. Get off me," I begged. No, I didn't want to shoot him. I hadn't forgiven him and I wasn't close to even liking him, but I didn't want to be forced to do this to him. I didn't want to hurt him.

He isolated the hand that was holding the gun and slammed it on the ground, away from my body. "Let go of the gun."

"Let go of me."

"I don't want to hurt you, Elorm. Please," he begged too.

"You'd hurt me for this piece of trash?" I asked, hurt.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't love you. He's bonkers, as you can see, so yes, I can hurt you."

"You wouldn't," I looked him in the eye.

He matched my stare, his eyes proud and defiant. We looked at each other for a long time, before he finally caved in and looked away. He cursed and slammed the ground with his palm aggressively. "Shit, of course I can't hurt you. I don't love you, but you're just too important to me."

I was just about to smirk when he snatched the gun from my hand and hit me with the muzzle. He didn't do it hard enough for me to pass out, but I got dizzy. When he jumped off me, we both looked around, though my sight was blurry.

"Where is he?" I heard Kofi say.

I blinked and swallowed, trying to clear my vision. "What are you talking about?"

"He was just here!" Kofi bellowed.

"You fool... you should've... you should've let me shoot him!"

"Oh no," Kofi murmured, his eyes going wide. "No, no," he rushed out of the bathroom.

"Kofi!" I yelled after him, but of course he didn't come back. I groaned, sitting up. It hurt. Everything hurt, even my dislocated thumb. With my good hand, I balanced myself in a bending position, my hand pressing onto the ground. It was a bad position for my swirling mind, but somehow, it helped my vision go from Infinix camera quality to iPhone camera quality.

I stood up and took large deep breaths, then went after Kofi. I followed the trail of blood, finding a staircase and descending it. To my surprise, it sent me to the same warehouse we were in before Mr. Faye knocked me out. So there was a liveable floor upstairs.

I kept following the trail of red small droplets, some of them being so faint that I could hardly make them out.

The blinding lights of the warehouse were just up ahead when I heard screaming. The sounds gripped my chest, turning my blood to lead. Ignoring the droplets, I followed the sounds, holding my breath on seeing the horrifying scene.

Mr. Faye had Kofi's neck in his elbow, on his knees and he was holding a special kind of taser. He was holding the taser to Kofi's parents' metal cage.

He was electrocuting them.

"In case I don't make it past tonight," he shouted, his voice above the screaming, "these traitors are coming with me."

His parents were bound by metallic shackles that were connected to the cage itself. Apart from that, the bottom of the cage was from the same metal too.

I shivered. He was mad. He was dead up there, in the compassion department. I couldn't stand the screaming. Without thinking, I rushed towards them, having no idea what my plan was. Just before I collided with the mad man, both my one hand and four fingers came up and grabbed onto Kofi's uncle's shoulder wound. He cried out and let go of Kofi and the taser, falling back.

The gun was still in Kofi's hand. No amount of pity I felt for his wounded state held me back from kicking the side of his face. He fell and groaned. I bent over and punched him hard, then bit the hand that was holding the gun. It fell out of his hand.

I grabbed the gun. The adrenaline was rushing through me. I didn't want to stop and think about what I was doing. It snaked into my mind once, a fleeting thought. This was the second life I was ending, but it was for the greater good.

"Elorm—"

"Shut up, Kofi. Shut your bloody mouth!" I spat at him, then turned back to my target. The lunatic began laughing, his hand reaching into his coat pocket. Before he could take whatever he was going to take out, I pulled the trigger.

I didn't miss this time. The loud sound of the bullet being released from the gun rang in my ears, long after the bullet buried itself in the mad man. All was quiet, as I felt the sickening feeling I was certain every murderer felt.

It took a while, when I began to shake and the burning guilt took over me, but Kofi finally sat up, his eyes going wide when he looked at the body. "No. No!" He yelled, sitting up immediately. He rushed to his uncle and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him. "Dad? Dad, please... no."

I shook my head and sneered. "You're just as sick as he was," I hissed.

He looked up, drawing his hands away from the man's body as if he just realised what he was doing. He got up and came towards me slowly. I backed away cautiously, feeling like he was going to hurt me. I quickly glanced at the gun. Two lines or whatever they were had jutted out of the muzzle, indicating that it was empty.

No.

He lifted his hand and my eyelids squeezed shut. I shook upon feeling his skin on mine. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was staring at me intensely, his hand caressing my cheek. His face was wiped, returning it to its normal colour. He had a few cuts and bruises, but they just succeeded in making him look more dangerously attractive.

What happened next was strange, even for me and my strange life.

His hand caressed the side of my face, going down. It came to stop at my neck. He tightened his hold on my neck and drew me near to him, his body heat enveloping me as my body shook, pressed against his. The gun fell from my hands. He leaned, bent his head... and he did the unthinkable.

He kissed me.

The most surprising thing was that I didn't kick him. I didn't spit at him, I didn't slap him.

I kissed him back. I frowned into the kiss, wondering what was wrong with me. That didn't stop me though. I stood on tiptoe and wrapped my arms around his neck.

His other arm went around my waist as he broke away from the kiss. "Jump," he ordered.

I obeyed. He lifted me and I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him again. This was different from Michael's kisses. His were just pure lust. This was something else. This was more like rage and desperation. This was pain and horror and shock and a little bit of insanity. There were three dead bodies in the room, for Pete's sake. He'd just attacked me. I was shot. My thumb was a different limb from my left hand. He had been beaten badly, but we were two idiots and we didn't know what was good for us.

He lay me on the dusty concrete floor, and the rest... well, things just happened the way they were supposed to.

* * *

THE END.

Don't you just hate it when authors do that? When they end their books on a cliffhanger? Like what is wrong with them? What do they think they've done? Why do they do that? Is there a mental illness that develops from not having closure? I have it. 😧

Don't worry, I'm not going to do that. We have a few chapters coming up next before we say goodbye to Elorm.

Wasn't this such a Christian friendly chapter?!

Don't forget to vote! 🌟