“Writer goes on murder spree.
Kills 18.”
-April Peters
“Why did you do it?”
“To be honest, I was bored.”
“You were bored?”
“Yes, I was bored. I hadn’t been doing much in the horror field.”
“So what, you were bored and you, decided to go and murder people?”
“That’s not how I’d put it.”
“How would you put it?”
“I became a character of a story.”
“Let’s go through the events of that day again.”
“Okay. It was a good day…”
Let’s hear it for T. Dap, the host of the party, my sister said, as she and others began to clap for the artist of the night – who was dressed as himself.
Too full of himself, I remember thinking as I watched my sister give him the microphone.
A beat from one of his songs started to creep out of the speakers. And it couldn’t have been more than a second before he started to jump around yelling, “Yea! 1 2 3!” into the microphone.
Just like artists, right? The lot of them deserve to go. See how bad music has gotten.
“Don’t you
“Continue.”
For the past four months, my sister had been planning the party that would be the first of its kind. The first ever Halloween party in our hometown.
She had the amazing plan! And it wasn’t until late that I realized what an event I could make it into.
Frankly, I commend her and her efforts, she put a lot of her time herself into the whole organizing thing. If she wasn’t writing down the stuff she wants at the party, she was talking to organizations who could
sponsor the party, and when she’s not doing that, she’s on social media creating an awareness for the party by setting up Instagram, Facebook, Twitter competitions for people to get free tickets and attend the ‘IBHP’ like everyone has grown accustomed to calling it. Everyone likes free things.
The party
People were coming in from everywhere. I
“You call them friends?”
“Yes, they were my friends up till they took their last breath. It was sad to watch really.”
“Go on.”
I was standing at the entrance waiting for the friends I’d invited. Most of them were already in, just two remained. Maybe if they’d come earlier, maybe I wouldn’t be here right now. But hey, I’m glad they did,
if they didn’t, I wouldn’t be here talking to you two nice chaps.
“So, you waited for the two guys to arrive before you started your killing spree?”
“Right on, detective.”
“What time did they arrive?”
“Around past 8. I know because Folayemi flashed me around that time to tell me they were almost
there.”
But while I was waiting for them, I was keeping myself company with the sights around me. The red carpet was fun to watch, I tell you.
You know
and everyone
Although not everyone was human, some were monsters, some superheroes, some spirits, you know how it is with Halloween, the diversity of costumes.
“You ever being to
“Once.”
“How did you feel?”
“Amused.”
Folayemi and Samuel SOP arrived after a while. Don’t ask me what SOP means, just know it was given to him by our high school Maths teacher. High schools, right? You get nicknames that would become more
popular than your name and stick with you for the rest of your life.
“What was your nickname in high school detective?”
“I didn’t have one.”
“Of course you did. Everyone does. You have to tell me if you want me to continue my jaw dropping
“It was um… uh, Stroke eyes.”
“Hahahaha who did you offend? You know what, now that I think about it, your eyes
“That’s funny. Continue with your story.”
“Ah, yes…”
SOP was dressed as Popping John, and Folayemi, a rather funny taller replica of Nasty C. You should have seen the expression on SOP’s face, dude was looking like he’d be teleported to another realm where we were all out to get him. And his hands – the sweat coming out of those hands, I swear, could be used to baptize a sinner.
The three of us walked in together and you could say, they found their purpose. Folayemi was taken selfies at 5 minutes intervals, and SOP checking out this fine chick on the dance floor. I’m pretty sure he
was more confused at that moment
“He might have…”
“Ah, yes, he might have. Anyways, back to my story.”
Like all parties, people were enjoying themselves – getting their rock
“You ever had one of those intellectual moments with your cop pals detective? I shouldn’t term them with the word ‘group’. Lemme call it as we call, ourselves. Wallflowers.”
“Wallflowers?”
“Yeah.”
“Sounds like a group of…”
“It would…to idiots, no offense. I have to tell you, we struggled a lot before we came upon that name.”
“And what do you do in this Wallflowers group?”
“What do you think?
“….”
“We have intense intellectual discussions and debates about which is better, big boobs or big ass.”
“Really?”
“No! It’s a writer’s group. Can I get back to my story?”
“Yes.”
You should know not everyone was a Wallflower and not everyone was included in that intellectual discussion. The ones not included in that conversation were close friends and mutual friends on Facebook getting acquainted with each other.
“And you were friends with them all?”
“Of course I was. I wouldn’t have given them a free ticket if I wasn’t.”
Penigma was a human looking version of Rick from the Rick and Morty show – I couldn’t tell which was skinnier though, him or the character, Olamide was a really short version of Wole Soyinka, Kay AZ was Jack The Ripper, Precious Nenye, an Igbo Princess, Makanjuola was an army General, Owezie Precious was Cinderella – that girl, I tell you, David was Frankenstein, Mary was Mary Paupins, Martha was a female Loki, Stevan was a combination of, the joker and Chucky – I guessed he wanted to be sick in the head too. Too, bad he’ll never get that chance. Adejumoke was uh, Mystique, Kat….
“Mystique?”
“Get your heads out of the cloud detective. She didn’t actually paint herself all blue, it was a blue skin clad attire.”
“Right.”
So, Kataliyah was Valkyrie, Michael- David’s brother was Deadpool – if only we were the characters we choose, right? People would still be alive, Mike – the new guy was Cyborg Superman and Kelechi Kaycee was Kaycee.
“What do you mean he was Kaycee?”
“Do I have to explain everything? He was himself!”
“Can you just get on with how you killed them”
“Don’t you wanna know what I was?”
“If I say yes, will you actually tell us what we want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Yes.”
“I was a cop!”
“A cop??”
“Yes, I believe we all have dark impulses. Deep down we’re all monsters even those in uniform and if given the chance to do what we want – note I said chance not opportunity, an opportunity could be let go but a chance…”
“Right. So, who did you kill first?” the detective asked.
“I started with Martha.
– Folúsọ́ Adebomi-Vaughan