African StoriesNaija StoriesSuspense and Horror Stories

We Meet Again

Vivian Lutena, a middle aged woman, beautiful and mightily endowed just stepped out of her Jacuzzi tub. Life to Vivian was good, so good that she forgot a lot of things. A lot of things like ‘Karma is a bitch’.

That harlot, Vivian. A dangerous one. Careful! You he-goat or she’ll build a mansion on top of your grave with the products of your sweat.

She lay on her luxurious bed, an independent woman and boy, she smelt of lavender and everything inviting.

Vivian was about to drift off when she heard it.

“Mummy,” came the tiny voice.

“Mummy we’re here,” said another.

“I don’t think mummy’s in here,” said a third.

You know what’s funny? Vivian has no kids… or does she?

“Who’s there?” she asked while getting up.

“Mummy, it’s Roland, Bessie and Bigger. Daddy said we could find you here,” said the first voice.

“Why did you leave us, mummy?”

Vivian had searched the whole house by now to know that her visitors were not visible, so she only prayed that no harm should befall her. Good luck with that, Mma Vivian.

“Mummy, let’s play hide-and-seek,” said a girl, probably Bessie.

“Yes! Good idea baby sis. Roland please count for us,” said Bigger.

Roland began the countdown and with each figure, Vivian’s screams increased.

“Mummy, please change my diaper, it’s all wet and heavy,” requested Bessie and suddenly a baby’s diaper appeared and floated over to where Vivian was now seated with her legs up to her chest.

“Mummy, Bigger and I are hungry,” Roland whined and almost immediately, the sound of ceramics against a marble surface filled the room.

“Who are you people? What do you want from me? I have no children!” Vivian cried, still trying hard to absorb this nightmare.

“Mummy doesn’t know us?” asked Bessie, she was sad. Vivian had hurt her feelings.

“Bastard babies, Mummy. The worst things that had ever happened to you. Planned to flush us, remember? Said you didn’t love Daddy and can’t bear to nurture his psychopaths. Didn’t even give us a chance to breath Mummy, why?”

“1998,” Vivian whispered, her vision now clouded by endless tears.

“We meet again, wifey.” he walked in.

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