SEVEN REALMS FURY
“…Gallio armlocked his foes with all the might he could muster, clouds of fire enshrouded them on the carriage they stood fighting. Polly and Malvian struggled to pull free from Gallio’s strong hold, but the warrior was strong and powerful.”
“The nation of Eliah began to ready for war with the Realms of Evil, powerful realms of black magic and monsters. The royal armies were drilling, preparing for the war; sounds of battle drilling filled the field of the capital city. They were men aced with weapons, valiant and fearless. Thus they were getting excited at the coming war with evils.”
SWORD OF WRATH
“It moved towards me faster than before and then stood still, towering over me; it shadow completely blotted out the ray of the sun. Fear enveloped me, the child’s toy I called sword in my hand dropped to the muddy ground as the features of this monster became clearer to me. I could not hold me still, but knocking limps together in fear and horror.”
“Evil cries of Banshees suddenly swept the night air, the evil feminine spirits that herald coming of death crying terribly across the capital city, gliding swiftly in the midair. The presence of bringers of death left some of the stationed soldiers in panic; they covered their ears against the harsh cries of these spirits…”
DARK DAYS OF SALEM
He watched intently as the fiery hand snaked about in the court of the royal palace—its talons like a dragon’s claws. His heart skidded as the mysterious hand found its way into the queen’s bedchamber where she lay asleep. A baby lay beside the queen, both of them asleep.
The mysterious fiery hand hanged over the sleeping queen, its claws began to smooch her delicately pretty face. Jealousy washed through him; he strained himself to see the face of this mysterious man defying his sleeping queen but could not—all he saw was just the fiery clawed hand.
The mysterious hand traced its claws across the breasts of the sleeping queen as if it would pop out her tender nipples. Anger simmered in him, he jostled to contend with this mysterious hand of a fiend, but the superior force would not let him. Helplessly he watched as the hand traced its claws to the groins of the sleeping queen and stayed briefly.
He swore that the hand fondled her, his queen, jealousy, and rage welled up in him. He shrieked, yelled and cursed but nothing he could do. In split second the mysterious hand left the queen, grabbed the neck of her sleeping baby, dug its claws into it, squeezed so hard and then pulled out the baby’s head—blood splattered everywhere.
“No! No!” He screamed and woke up with a jerk.
Calmness descends, welcoming calmness after a tumultuous bloodbath; calmness lifting the spirits of the glorious Sons of Divine, after infinite-like clashed of fiery weapons in prowess of combat.
AFRICAN MOVIE STORIES
HEROES OF BLOOD
Powerful eyes glared at the erected two young men amid the prevailing silent, as if tearing them apart limb by limb to measure their worth. They stood like stones before their superiors in arms, men with mean eyes. These superiors would not speak, as if taking their time sizing up the worth of these young men.
The morning was still young, about 8.30am, the two young man had been summoned by the commander of the military headquarter; now they stood in the private office of this powerful man, who was not alone though. They could not look straight into his inquisitive eyes, the light in complexion young man was looking at the framed picture of the smiling General hanging on the wall behind this powerful man, while the dark in complexion young man fixed his eyes intently at the military insignia neatly set on the wall—perhaps wondering when he would get such prestigious decorations of valour.
Lt. Ahmed exchanged few more jovial comments with these men and then walked away from them, still reeling in the fit of merry mood. He was few yards away from them, when he perceived threats. Little smoke had begun to trail in the night sky and suddenly a little ball of fire appeared, shooting right into the camp.
“Incoming! Incoming! All soldiers on your feet!” He roared powerfully, immediately he dove away as the ball of fire came to land and exploded just few yards behind him. He heard mortal cries, and when he recovered from his position the two soldiers he had just chatted with were no more, blasted to pieces by this rocket, their pieced bodies roasting furiously fast. He could not cry, all he could do was to pent-up his emotion.
The night became alive with rockets, bombs and shrapnel, exploding on the Federal troops simultaneously. The Secessionist forces were bombarding the enemies with artilleries, shells and rockets; their B25 and B26 bomber planes were also partaking in the ferocious attack.
MYSTICS (conflicts of power and love)
She stood; yes she stood before the glass window of her magnificent office like a glamorous model chiselled to perfection. Her eyes fixed intently at the clear azure sky through the glass window, as if expecting an angel to descend from the sky with a message from God—the message of joy that she desperately needed.
She sighed and cast her eyes at the sea of people swarming like thousands of tiny ants all over the busy commercial avenue. Her glassy office occupied the 30th floor of the company’s skyscraper, and from such vintage position, she could virtually see all her surroundings. She was so used to the familiar scenes that they no longer appeal to her—so she let her mind wandered.
Her bluish eyes no longer radiate joy as her nature, her countenance doleful like a child recently orphaned. Her soul cried out loud, like a child seeking mother’s nipples to suck. But in her case she would prefer strong arms around her, a manly one, to cuddle her and whisper love into her ears. Alas, such had not come; she prayed and waited on God everyday with the patience of a lone woman. Every day in her office she could not help looking at the big sky as if expecting God to send a message to her—message that would bring her joy.
Ada fell into her mother arms and wept, “It was a horrible mama—it really was. I lay there in the bush like a helpless animal, they were on me, forcing into me over and over again!” She lamented bitterly. “I was demeaned, I felt worthless;they took away my virgin pride in a brief moment of rape. Now I have become the news of the town, a scorned lady actually. I can no longer hold my head high in the community without mockery and scorn from my rivals. I, Ada, the Daughter of Dawn,with no rival in beauty and power, sought after by men of calibre from far and near,ravaged by such worthless men as Chidi and Nnoso! I will have my vengeance mama, even without placingan eternal curse on them. I have nursed the dream of my wedding night when I suppose to give myself to my husband untouched and unspoilt. Alas, mother, that dream has gone down the drain. They did not even handle me with decency; they wanted forceful sex, I was the animal that gratified their lust. Now, what will become of me? I must have my vengeance, as long as I breathe.”
-FICTION: AFRICAN MYSTERY-
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