That was what the man wanted to kill. Your intuition seemed stronger. You saw every truth in it. You lifted the hen, first, from its wings and later held it by the legs. The bird was upside down and the wings spread out. It incessantly flapped its wings, but let out nothing but a low crow. Ascending the stairs appeared trickier than descending. You didn't encounter any fog. The nothingness was complete and therefore accumulated as one and made you a peanut in its glory. Small, but the Chi hovering behind you was larger than everything. You reached the top. The narrow alley, like funnel, broadened as you paced through. And soon, you tore out to the Mars-like surrounding. The trees were still far off. Were you on Mars?

The journey ahead was unfriendly, but no matter how many miles you covered, it took nothing from you. You used the trees to measure your steps, and there were seventy-seven steps between each tree along the part you strode.

At some point, you started to run. You ran and ran, but the tower remained where it was. Since you carried the bird from its leg, the wings fell and spread.

Because you ran, the trees approached faster, and because you will, you never stopped running until you could see the base of the tower. At first, your heart skipped when you didn't see the golden door but you remembered you were behind the tower. You walked around and saw the Golden door slightly opened, as you had left it. You entered and took in the white background. The door sounded like it moved but when you craned, it was still as you left it. The red-figured leaned on the wall when you returned your gaze.

"With the concept of time molded by your people," The red-hooded figure said, "you have been out for about four days...Ahh, I see you brought the hen."

"Who am I?"

"I thought we agreed to help each other?" He touched his grey goatee. With the oversized hood overhead, covering up to his nose, you couldn't decern his countenance.

"Where do I kill it?" You asked.

"Just," he motioned to follow his words, "Hand it over, I will show you." He carried it by the wings. "You should not carry it upside down."

You reached a door that gave way as you approached. He said, "Wait here,"

He entered and the door slid behind him. A moment later, the door gave way and he stepped out. He put his hand in his left sleeve and brought out a knife and stretched it to you. "Not that you need it, but take. Go ahead."

You collected the knife. The hilt was the tangled body of a reptile that split at the head, into two heads facing opposite directions. You brushed your gaze to the man, felt his gaze burn through the hood. You entered the room. The whitish background made it difficult to spot the white hen but with the help of its red comb and wattle, you tracked it. It beaked on Garri.

While you killed that hen and watched it design that room with its blood, blur memories swirled in you. It all seemed vague. But a name, something direct, had come to you.

"You have eaten that which you will need, now you need to rest. It only happens once."

You looked around the room the man led you to. You moved to the bed-like structure was elevated from the surface and laid dow . The top was soft. Solid, but soft. Few other structures protruded through the floor; things that could be sat on but didn't resemble seats.

It was only after you laid down that the man left the room and the door slid shut. You listened to hear any click but nothin. The soft surface comforted you in ways too profound to be comprehended, and your lids shuttered at once. But you fought the urge to close them; scared you would open it to this same background. But on second thought, you should let it intoxicate you. Maybe they might close and open to normal; whatever that was.

Instead of resting, you tried to comprehend the memories that had flooded your head while you killed the hen. You remembered your cousins filling in on holidays, and remembered killing one when you were alone with your mother...your mother? You remembered Chimamanda but there was no facade to the name.

You battled your lids from closing but like waking up, walking to the Mountain, jumping off, killing that hen, eating that mountainous food, and lying down now, it felt deemed. Closing your eyes was the right thing to do. In a dream-Which would totally fade- you saw yourself falling. Unlike the void you fell through when you leaped off the mountain, you saw the ground and it rushed to you with arcane speed. The moment the dreadful impact occurred, your eyes gently slid open. You weren't sweating.

Energized as an antelope, you hopped off and moved to the sensor-door and it slid into the wall. You entered the hallway. The red clad man leaned on your wall. The hood was over his head as always.

"Always a premature one eh?" He said when he got closer.

"What?"

"Your rest is premature. But that is good thing."

"Do you have a name?"

"Of course, as you do."

You remained quiet and gave space for him to say it. But he said, "Follow me." he whirled and walked backwards. You caught up and walked shoulder to shoulder with the man. You noticed you had grown a few inches above his shoulder.

"My name is Santa," he said. He moved briskly like one late for a meeting.

Another Déjà vu came. The image was of a potbellied man with a grey lengthy beard outfitted in red. It was quite vivid to be Déjà vu. The pot-bellied man wore a grin on his face, and a child sat on his lap. Although the man's physic looked nothing like the man in your memory, whose name you vividly remember as Santa Claus, you still asked, because of the near semblance of attire. "Like Santa Claus?"

The sound was new. It was weird and it gradually died down "Santa Claus?" The man iterated more to himself than to you.

"What was that?"

"Claus? Oh, you won't understand. Not just yet."

"No, that sound."

He made the sound again. "It is laughter. You remember Claus but don't remember laughter?"

"I don't remember him, I don't remember anything. Who is Claus?"

"He is the opposite of what you are." He laughed again. "Do you want to remember?"

"Remember what?"

"What used to be."

You swallowed. "I don't know.

"You will, it is not meant to be."

Silence. The thick rubber absorb your steps so the silence was complete. He broke it, "Our first name is Santa, that which comes after is up to you."

"Our?"

"Yes. I, Claus, Klipi and Fuenta. We are all Santas."

Only Claus' name flashed recognition. The rest were new.

"Who is Fuenta and kipl...?"

"klipi."He filled in and explained further, "You are to be a Santa. And to be a Santa, you must pass the test, and must truly understand the feeling you will represent."

What test? What feeling did you represent? But more importantly "What feeling do you represent?"

A smile tug the edge of his lips. He vanished and shock widened your eyes. You felt the weight of a hand on your shoulder and jolted. You craned and saw Santa behind, a wide smile stretched his lips. "I am that Santa, that which expresses all feeling."

At that point, you reached that same T junction where the left arm led to the golden door. Santa said, "It should be easier now you know the way." you knew the way. You ran around the tower and knew the alley was aligned. Without stopping, you ran to the alley between the mountains, down the unbarricaded stairs that led to the circular space where a white hen; the perfect replica of the last one, sat on its weight. You carried it by the wings. Santa had said you failed the test.

Now, you knew it was not a dream or anything. It was for real and you had no choice but to comply. You noticed your increased agility and speed as if you matured in your rest. You reached the golden door to find Santa hunched there, arms crossed behind him.

"I thought you would never return."

"Eh?"

"I see you carried the hen right this time. Maybe, you might kill it right this time."

"Why do I have to kill it?"

Santa shook his head. "You don't listen. This will be two of three."

"Two of three what?"

"Trails."

"Eh, what happens when it completes?"

"That should not be a worry. Atleast now you understand what i am saying. It is a test."

"Why are you hiding your face from me?"

"My face is not important."

"What do you mean?"

"That my face is not important."

He collected the hen and entered a slow pace.

"Faces are not important, he said, "That which one feels and how it is interpreted is what matters. Wait here." he entered a door that gave way. A moment later, he emerged and gave you that same knife with a double reptile hilt.

"You might not need it." He said, a smile on his lips. You grabbed the knife and thought about what he said. Then how do you kill a chicken without a knife? He was probably being sarcastic. You looked at the opened door, making up your mind before you entered. You easily detected the red comb and wattle. Garri spread around it so it was beaking away when you entered. Was it the same room you killed the previous hen? There was no trace of the blood that had designed the room.

You grabbed the wings and legs and slipped them under your feet. You picked the feathers on the neck and paid less attention to the low crock it made. There was no dramatic pause from the grabbing of the knife held in between your lips to the cutting of the neck. You mounted extra pressure on the wings which you supposed even dislocated it. The pressure to break free came, but your pressure was measured to withstand the constant powerful twitches the bird made.

The twitching, after a time, came as involuntary movement caused by the whisp of life in the hen. You watched the twitching bird until the pressure under your feet died down. You stepped off the hen. The blood spread in a wide circle to tell that the room did not tilt to a side.

The door hissed and slid into the wall and Santa stepped inside, clapping. A small clap, with about two fingers.

"Good. Good. But..." He was about to say something else but probably thought otherwise.

"Santa..." The words half slipped from your mouth. He was crouched, examining the dead hen, but he tilted towards you when he heard his name.

"I can't take this anymore!?"

"What?"

"This," You dropped the knife to the floor and it suspended and gently landed. "Where is this place? how did I come here?"

"You failed again." He said with a sigh and rose from his crouched position.

"What?" You scurried to him "I killed it this time."

"Yes, but, only with your hands."

You remained quiet, expecting him to add more but he simply moved past the door into the hallway.

"I have a mother...and a cousin named Chimamanda!" you followed suit. You saw that you were almost his height.

He paused in his tracks. "Yes, you did? Are memories coming to you?"

You hesitated and said, "Yes. I saw that I had killed a hen when I was alone with my mother."

"Is that all?"

"I also remembered a name. Chimamanda."

"And Santa Claus." He entered motion again and you caught up beside him.

"You come from a place called earth, where hate is cultivated. The universe, and powers that lie beyond have chosen you to be." He waited a while and added, "Do you want to see your previous.?"

You stopped in your tracks. "My previous?"

"Yes... And walk up, don't waste your time."

You caught up. "How?"

He didn't answer. You couldn't tell where he led you since everywhere was identical. You only hoped the golden door would not come in sight again. Even if it did, you were ready to kill, or give killing the hen another try. He turned left and you copied briskly.

"I asked if you want to see your previous life."

"Yes. Yes." You barely answered, but not even the steps were audible so your voice was.

"Good."

A spiral elevation came into view and immediately you set your feet on it, the moving ground conveyed you up like an escalator.

"That which had brought you here is above," Santa said, his hands clasped behind him.

"Does it have to do with my mother?"

"You are about to find out."

Another shared silence in which you wondered if you really wanted to see your previous life. There was this strange feeling you wouldn't like it. The spiral structure which you were being conveyed on, white as everything else, seemed endless but you and Santa would have to reach the top. There had to be one.

"From where you come from, it took us a whole day to reach here." you finally reached a landing.

It led to another hallway, but unlike others, its end, visibly gold, was in view and Santa moved to it. He stood before the golden wall, but it didn't slide aside like other doors and as you looked at it, you concluded it wasn't a door.

"If you go through, you will see." He gestured to the wall and you stepped forward.

"Go through."

You reached for the wall but it dissolved and allowed your hand pass through. You looked at Santa. He romanced his goatee, trailing the streamlined shape, a smirk on his lips. "Go ahead. Go and understand yourself."

You closed your eyes and stepped through the door and everything went dark.