She stood over the body, not feeling any iota of guilt. She felt at peace – Peace that had eluded her for the past three months since she found out. She had carefully planned and thought out every single step.
Her mother, God rest her soul, would be proud of her, for her constant nagging about paying more attention to details had finally been a blessing. She would be proud of her thought process in executing her grand plan.
It was exactly three months she found that text that had congratulated him on his engagement. Engagement! She had thought with loads of excitement. Was he going to propose that night? Had he told a friend who was too excited till he did it?
Alas, reading the text further, she found something she did not expect, and it brought along with it the heart-crunching moment she had experienced with Tobore. The only difference was this time, it felt like her body had been mangled by a heavy duty truck.
Hadiza? Who the hell was Hadiza?
Her investigation skills would have put her on the radar of the KGB, it was impressive. Hadiza was the long-lost friend that had called him on that weekend trip to Obudu. She was a fool. Once bitten, twice shy was what she said after Tobore. But not this time. This time, Frank was going to pay.
She could give a vivid description of Frank’s typical day. From leaving home at 7:30am and making that 15 minutes drive to his office to having Vegetable, Moin-Moin and Chicken for breakfast, to him closing at work by 6:00pm and jetting off to the gym afterwards. She knew it all, his routine.
9:00pm was the time to settle the score. Plans were in motion, execution was key. She sat in the chair that faced the door, eyes fixed on its knob. She watched until she heard the key-tumbler turn. That was her cue. With two long strides, she was at the door just as Frank opened it to let himself in. In the blink of an eye, she pushed the button on the Taser and as he convulsed on the floor, she laid down piles of black nylon that he had saved for garbage disposal, tied his hands, legs and mouth with duct tape.
Frank woke up to see her with a scalpel in her hand. She saw him blink back to consciousness and bending over him, showed him a picture of Hadiza on her phone.
“Who is she?” she asked as the yanked the duct tape from his mouth.
Frank gasped for breath and without savoring the sweetness of it, he let it out just as quickly as he’d taken it in. “J-Jesus! What has go- What the hell is going on? What has gotten into y-you? Are you cra-?”
“WHO IS SHE?” she screamed this time cutting him off. Her voice was laced with frustration and anger as she thrust her hand forward and pushed the scalpel against the skin under Frank’s jaws.
“M-my friend,” he replied as blood trickled down his neck and nestled on the collar of his favorite work shirt.
She replaced the duct tape, screamed wrong answer and drove the scalpel into his right knee. His blood gushed out like she’d broken a dam and hit her hand. She didn’t expect it, but the warmth of it delighted and comforted her. The more the blood gushed out, the more she felt at peace. She did not bother to clarify further. He had nailed the coffin when he lied.
That first cut into his knee felt so therapeutic she could not deny herself the pleasure of getting that high. His pain was her drug. It soothed her and she loved it.
She enjoyed every bit of cutting him open. Seeing his eyes pop out of their sockets in excruciating pain pleasured her. They bulged wider as she drove the scalpel deeper. He pleaded with his eyes for her to stop. But no, his pleads only brought more pleasure, and she cut wider.
His every wince and groan paid for the deceit, his eventual death – her salvation.