A Dread in the Spine - Episode 3

 

 Greenland of Fortunecity had begun to see the deaths and kidnappings of some of its occupants. The whole ordeal started with a simple, sorrowful, but simple news of a Christian being killed. Everyone assumed it was one of those religious bigotries that followed the northern Nigerians into the Island. However, when the death toll rose from a single Christian to six, the authorities began to look for patterns . Then, the killings got an additional phase to it: some of them were being kidnapped, and those kidnapped were Christians that saw visions of hell at one point or the other.
Nosa knew the police would find a solution to the problem, and had refused to heed Chloe's cry to search for them. The Fortunecity Police Force was a combination of people from different countries and tribes. If they put their heads together, they would surely get the missing people in time. Despite that, the number of those kidnapped increased sporadically. The funniest part of it was that the kidnapper had a totally different method from that of the killers. 
Yet, Nosa promised himself that he would never be involved until one of the authorities asked for his help. He was practicing to be a private investigator. Private investigators aren't heroes to the country; they are heroes to individuals

All episodes of this story can be found here >> https://www.ebonystory.com/story/a-dread-in-the-spine

. Still, he did his findings once in a while and didn't raise any dust. So, when Mr. Johnson poured his Eagle Eyes' problem on his laps, he was happy he had a folder for it already.
He celebrated as he drove home in a hurry. He had to finish the investigation in time so that he could have a lot of time with the one he loved. There was nothing that could make him sad that day.
However, the moment he entered the house, Nosa was drawn to Chloe's countenance. Of course, she was supposed to be grieving because of the loss she had encountered of recent, but she didnt get the opportunity to really grieve the first loss before another one landed on it. His fear, as he saw her, was that she had finally found the need to talk about her pain, and he wouldnt be around to listen to her. He went near and rubbed her chin.
Chloe, is everything alright?
No, Chloe shook her head that had its long hair the way she loved it; neatly flowing like that of a queen - as she stared at the television. Everything is wrong. Terrible things are happening and would happen soon. The taste of the danger is becoming sourer by the second. Its stench is like that of a bottle of forgotten urine.
Chloe, everything will be fine.
You said that when our daughter She stopped talking and inhaled sharply. Her high cheekbone, which attracted him to her the first time they met, was now covered in a shadow of sorrow. Youve been saying this since this menace began to form like dark clouds over Greencity, over Fortunecity, over Nigeria
Mr. Johnson called me for one of the cases. You know what that means.
That nobody can beat you to finding them? But, you should have sniffed out this killer when it all started.
You know all this hero thing is not my thing. It's Eagle Eyes' thing.
I know you are not Mr. Johnson, but if you had gone, at least, all these might have been avoided.
Do you know what that would have? Nosa stopped as his voice began to rise. He stopped himself from getting worked up. His wife was still grieving over the loss of her father, their daughter, and son. Rather, she was supposed to be grieving over them, but she was always seen with books and biros, watching videos of those that had gone to hell. At night, when she was supposed to sleep, she would be found poring over the books about hell.
Immediately I saw the death of the second one, I smelt trouble and suspected that they would be picked off one after the other like guinea pigs. I told you. It is on you like a perfume.
Okay. Chloe, I have to go, Nosa muttered as he rose from her side. His anger was trying to come out of its tunnel, and he wouldnt want to allow her to see that side of him, at least not that day. 'Ive got to go.
Sniff out this missing one or ones, as many as you can find.
Why are you so?
Engrossed with them? Instead of crying over my dead family members, I've decided to find something better to do than to cry over people that have turned to dust. I want to feel joy on my skin again.
If it were better, I would have appreciated it.
Its better. I have something taking my mind off all these evil that the world is making me face. 
 Nosa sighed, sat beside her, and patted her shoulder as he used his other hand to rub his own beard. Maybe her reaction and love for these things was her way of grieving for everyone she had lost. Im sorry. Maybe I should have found them.
Maybe Even if you didnt find them, you would have made me happy Can you smell the joy on me? It's beautiful from inside out. Why? You have finally listened to my plea. I don't know why you always brush my advice aside like a roving dirt.
Things will be better. I will find these missing women.
If not all, just this newest missing one would be impressive.
'I'll find them', Nosa said as he rose to leave. She nodded and rubbed his arm.
Dont use that belt. Its torn.
How did you know the belt Im using? Moreover, my clothes will cover it.
She gave him a cold glare and mimicked him in a way that always fascinated him. 'Does that sound good to your ears?
He sighed. Okay.
'The other one is better. In fact, give me the belt now. I don't want you having ideas in your head about replacing it behind my back'.
'But'
'No. You need to start representing this family and your company well. Such fashion taste is bad. It irks me. Also, wear that new black Jeans trousers. It's Christmas tomorrow, enjoy the festive mood'.
Nosa grudgingly removed the belt, gave it to her and strolled into the room, where he picked the bulky ridiculous belt she said she loved, and changed the trousers. He would do anything to make her happy until her grieving time was over. Wherever those ladies were, he wasnt ready to start a wild goose chase. He needed to search for them strategically. Like Moriah would advise, he needed to be careful.
'I need to be careful', he said as he picked the folder he came for.
Then, as he was about to leave the room, he sighted the things that might help his new case; the numerous books, CDs, and DVDs she bought to keep herself busy and knowledgeable about hell or to take her mind off her numerous losses laid on her side of the room. He couldnt understand why she became engrossed with those horrible, money-making books, but he packed them.
Will you need these books in a few days? he said as he came out with the load of books, CDs, and DVDs and dumped them on the table. 
Wow. This is really good. They would enlighten you. Take as many as you want
He booed. These ones. They are nothing, but money-making instruments. I just need them to find the missing women.
There are a lot of things you should know. If not for my bad network provider, I would have sent something to you over WhatsApp. I will send it when the network comes back on.
Ive told you to use Glo data bundle.
Typical Nigerian. Glo cant help me. Have you seen peoples complaint about them?
Thats a handful of their total users. We
 She glanced at the clock. This is just 7:30 pm. Try to come back in time. But, in case you can't, hold some clothes and enough money to stay at a hotel. But you must come home tomorrow for Christmas.
Yes, mummy, he said, kissing her forehead.
'I'll take your IVM G20'.
'That's a seven-seater'. 
'I'll be comfortable in it for this mission'.
'Alright! It's yours. It's ours'.
'Yes, mummy'.
Be a good boy she said and became fixated on the television. Her knees shook like a leaf in the wind as another breaking news displayed on the TV, detailing that another woman had been kidnapped, and the news pointed to the fact that she was also one of the ladies that saw the visions of hell.
Nosa bent over her, and held her leg in place, making sure he blocked her view of the television. He had tried many ways of talking her out of every other thing that could make her grieve. The real grief was supposed to be that of her family members that were dead. He needed her to do an actual, overbearing grieving over her family member's death. He had done his part, crying like a baby, when they lost their first child to a mild sickness. She did too, but not enough before Mr. Kings died of a heart attack. 
Nosa stared into her dark eyes and said, 'we'll find them. I'll find them'.
She nodded. Be careful.
As if tuned to Nosa's thought, someone knocked the door. Nosa wondered how he didnt hear the gate open. Whos there?
Its me, Mummy Church.
Chloe had a lot of servants that should have done all the works in the house, but she sent them away after her father's death. She grew up living with servants, and when her father died and wrote in his will that Chloe mustn't do any work directly, she sent all the servants away as payback. The only ones she still allowed were the cook, the gardeners, who came once a day to do their work, and they would leave again. Nosa agreed with her anger against her father, whom she claimed was still trying to control her in his death. He made sure her aunty was a thorn in her flesh.
Nosa hurried to the door the moment he heard Mummy Church's voice. Despite his dislike for her talkativeness, arrogance, slothfulness, he preferred her above all other persons to talk with and to Chloe. No matter how long the one-handed woman stayed with her, Chloes mind would be taken off the codswallop that the media kept feeding the public.
For some reasons, unlike the way his instinct had helped him, he suspected that he would regret ever taking this case. This instinct had helped him solve a lot of mysteries. Shayla called it detectives instinct. Yet, like his father used to preach, like Paul, he would take up what he knew portended danger and hope to return in good shape or at least better than the last time. Unlike his father, he wasnt going to plant his detective church in Idumwurgha forest of Edo state, Nigeria. He would spread out his tentacles and would know what to do.

Read " Don't! Look Closer " by the same author ( Akíntayo Akinjide )

. He sent messages to his teams and activities began the moment he stepped out of the house.
Nosa, hair is returning to your bald head. Do something about it. And your beard, its shape is... You're becoming bushy.
Yes, mummy Nosa shouted as he marched off into the compound.
Dont you dare let your feet smell my lawn, she shouted after him, making him jump back into the lane. She was a lover of her garden. He looked at the green carpet grass and knew why he didn't endure their marriage, why he really loved her. Her love for different beautiful things fascinated him and made him stay in love with her all those years.
The first thing he sighted immediately he stepped outside with loads of books, CDs, and DVDs was a tract on the windscreen of his car. He opened his car, dumped the items he was carrying and returned to pick the tract and skimmed it. Its heading read: Hell Is So Real!  
He crumbled it into the shape of a ball and threw it into the bin. Smiling at himself, he said,' this is a good omen. I'll throw this nonsense case like a paper'.