Adrian was so bewildered when a gang of po-faced men stormed his living room that he tossed the Guardian newspaper in his hand onto the tiled floor. For once in his life, he’d failed to be who he was. He stared keenly at the faces of each of the men. Had he seen any of them before? No! These faces were completely strange. The black shirts and jeans which the men wore cruelly exacerbated the panic that took charge of his mind, albeit he tried to keep a stiff upper lip. But he couldn’t stop wondering how they’d gotten into his compound. After all there was the German steel gate and his very deft Fulani gatekeeper. How did they enter? He ruminated. The other two members of his household were away and besides, neither of them could have invited people like these guests around him. Roughly fifteen minutes ago, he’d returned home from work and as a routine, he’d sat on his sofa, crossed his knees and busied himself with the newspaper until this time. Like hungry pets, the four men roamed the living room, one of them, gazing at the cover page of the newspaper which read in bold, MYSTERY FIRE STILL SEEKING STORIES. POLICE TO MEET ON MARCH 31ST While Adrian sat still on his king-sized sofa, rapt in the wonders of the episode, a stout figure strutted into the living room. Although the figure appeared laughable at first glance, it bespoke importance and influence. Its steps were pretty daunting and there was no doubt that its owner was in charge of the gang. Adrian watched the man just as he’d watched the four but with much more angst. Well-fitted in a pinstriped navy-blue suit, the man didn’t seem to have come for something cheap. A smile suddenly poured out from his rough face and it tempted Adrian to do something smart, but he pre-empted the thought immediately, acknowledging that his overly intrepid style would be simply vain at the moment. When the man made a saunter towards Adrian, a strong smell of ginger pierced Adrian’s nostrils. What a scent! The petrified house owner exclaimed to himself. Suddenly, something struck his sixth sense and he pushed himself off his seat and stared eyeball to eyeball at the man. ‘Who are you and what is it you want?’ Adrian inquired, breaking the menacing silence with his inherent grit. ‘Ha-ha!’ the man chuckled languidly, wandering his gaze around the living room. ‘What a poor head you have! I took you for mister smart.’ ‘Hey listen!’ Adrian raved, fury surging into his voice. ‘You and all these things you have brought here. In the first place this is my—in fact,’ he started towards the main door. ‘Where is that Adamu?’ Hardly had he reached the door however, than one of the hard faces intercepted him. Adrian turned back sharply and looked at the big man. The man grinned, clapped once and blurted, ‘nonsense!’ The words sounded commonplace to Adrian. He padded towards his previous position. ‘Who are you?’ he was asking the man. Just as he reached his seat, one of the men with a scary frame, approached and swiftly shoved him to the floor. Adrian’s eyes bulged as his skin crawled. ‘What! How dare you burst into my house and do such—?’ he managed to bellow from his floor. ‘Don’t worry Adrian Asoka,’ the man called him with much glee. ‘It’s only when we get there you’ll understand.’ ‘Get where?’ Adrian asked impatiently, concealing the jolt in hearing his full name. ‘Time!’ the man snapped his finger and headed for the main door. One of the men, the hugest, dark as coal, and with massive tattooed biceps that loomed immensely on his large frame approached the prey. Adrian secretly cringed as the man drew closer, and as he was about uttering some words of bravery, the man grasped his hands firmly, so that his colleague with a rope swiftly did a tying job. Adrian couldn’t give up just like that. Even though he knew his chances of escaping these aliens were as profuse as snowstorms during summer, he struggled with them. ‘How dare you?’ He ranted incessantly, slightly hitting his loafers on the floor. ‘How dare you!’ One minute saw them through. Their speed made them seem like the professionals which they were. The leader walked out of the house and his minions followed, pulling Adrian as though he was a bag of beans to be preserved in a dilapidated silo. They headed towards a black Mercedes jeep which stood on the interlocked driveway just in front of Adrian’s 4-bedroom duplex. ‘Why are you doing this? Adrian ranted. He could vaguely see the gatekeeper’s small apartment. Its door was open and some articles of clothing lay by the doorway. He instantly fell sick. Soon, they reached the already opened boot of the jeep. There, the men heartlessly dumped a man in his early-forties. ‘Damn you!’ Adrian screamed in anger mingled with pains, and just before darkness became his company. ‘Hurry up!’ The boss snapped from the back seat of the jeep. The men had perfectly carried out their second profession in style. They couldn’t even give the man an opportunity to drop a message for his son, or the housemaid who’d travelled for her personal functions. In no time, the jeep was in motion.
Posted on: Sun, 15 Sep 2013 21:38:22 +0000