Fist

Published on May 22nd, 2012 | by The Alchemist

371925http%3A%2F%2Fwww.thenakedconvos.com%2Ffist%2FFist%3A+02012-05-22+15%3A00%3A46The+Alchemisthttp%3A%2F%2Fwww.thenakedconvos.com%2F%3Fp%3D3719

Fist: 0

Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen, this is The Alchemist – TTXIII, sneaking in on this fine #BettyTuesday to show you a little something. 

This is not a story. It is an introduction to what will be my first major experiment. So far, I have been content to share and tell stories centered on/inspired by one primary theme. In the coming weeks, and for most of this summer, I will be telling a story that touches on several themes simultaneously – most prominently - Courage, Discipline, Loyalty, Purpose and Sacrifice.

Without further ado, I present you with an introduction and a preview to…

 ***********************************

 FIST.

(Owó Èsé)

An Introduction 

*************************

The Hagakure (also known as the Hagakure Kikigaki) is a practical and spiritual guide for a warrior, drawn from a collection of speeches and comments by the samurai lord Yamamoto Tsunetomo and was compiled from 1709 to 1716. The Hagakure has been adopted as a guide and rule book by many famous warriors since it was written and today is a favorite among men of the underworld who wish to maintain some semblance of dignity and discipline in a world where dignity and discipline are hard to come by. Some say there is a secret temple in the black mountains of Japan that has trained assassins for crime syndicates, intelligence agencies and even freelancers for centuries. It is further said that all their teachings are based on the Hagakure and their students are bound to it by blood oath.

But this story is not about the Hagakure. 

This is a story of ****, a ruthless and extremely effective assassin living and operating primarily in Nigeria. He is a ‘retainer’ that works for anyone willing to pay his ‘lord’ – the mysterious Babalawo and Witch doctor known only as ‘Baba’, who in turn pays him a fixed percentage of earnings on the first day of June every year. He never meets any of his clients in person and he does not ask questions unless they are necessary.  **** is a stoic, rigid man born of the beautiful chaos that is Nigeria and although he has assassinated well over a hundred people on behalf of a multitude of organizations and personal interests, his existence is completely unknown to the Nigerian Police. He has so far lived a life of quiet discipline but is about to be caught up in a series of events that will take him from the corridors of Power in modern Nigeria to its slums, villages and shanties.  These events will change his view of the world and his place in it, lead him to do battle with his own personal demons and in the end, force him to make a choice… that will change everything. 

************************************************

 FIST.

 (Owó Èsé)

 A preview of things to come

 **************************************************

…Pastor. hmmph! If I didn’t know better, I would have said he had an uncanny ability to communicate with the choir. But I do know better. If he has a special connection with anyone it would be Sister Dolu in the front row. Their depraved sexual encounters were described very vividly in my briefing file. I didn’t even bother to view the video tapes; the pictures had been more than enough for me. Besides, I had read enough earlier on to know that she would be useless in getting to him – she was brainwashed beyond all hope of redemption. She truly believes that accommodating his penis in every orifice she has available is an essential part of his ‘ministry’ and she would sooner die than betray him. The idiot. I should kill her too – just on principle…

*****************************************************

My mother’s voice is loud and melodious and even through the dream, it penetrates through the armour of my subconscious and soothes me. I can feel the muscles in my face form a smile even as my child-dream-self smiles in tandem. She is smiling as she speaks to me even though her voice is raised. I give her the catapult, bend my head to show remorse and walk to the corner of the shop to help her peel the efinrin leaves from their stalks.  The sky turns dark suddenly and the sound of heavy rain drops is all around us even though there is no rain visible. I get a sense of foreboding and then that sense of foreboding becomes a choking sensation as I begin to realize what will happen next…

*********************************************

“Burraku! Father is looking for you! Come!”

Keiko’s unique voice was unmistakably sonorous as she called into the chamber where I was washing the robes for the other pupils. I had been there for four months already and Master had me do nothing in all that time except wash the robes and clean the dishes. I obeyed every word up to that point. How could I not? He was Master, I was pupil. Obedience was not optional. But finally he had sent for me personally and by his own daughter no less. I was sure that he was ready to begin teaching me something special…

*****************************************************

Baba’s face is briefly contorted with worry as he queries me about this unfortunate development.

“Oti O! You went inside with leg? Did anybody see your face?”

 “No one that will remember” I assure him.

“Kare. Sugbon ise mii ti de le. Nomba ati iwe wa ninu moto nita – ninu BMW” (Well done but there is another job on ground. The number and the file are in the grey car outside – the BMW.)

“Amoo ti e duro naa, se o o ni simi ni? O o rawon temi, won n ba ti Lifapoo je. A n lu won selese.” (But wait, won’t you rest? In fact, Come and watch my boys, they are destroying Liverpool.)

“It’s ok Baba, Let me go inside and lie down for a bit. I am tired”

*****************************************************

My foot shatters the lock with a loud crack and I burst into the room. As I fire my first shot in the direction of his head, he ducks, leaning against his partner, and my bullet misses. I fire another shot and this time, he is not so quick. He presses himself against his partner and they fall to the floor but not quickly enough. My bullet has already hit him in the shoulder blade.  Two steps closer and it should all be over. I as move swiftly towards the two bodies, I see he has rolled onto his injured back, using his lover as a human shield. I will have to clear the shield away. By this time, at least five seconds have elapsed. The other guards will be coming upstairs soon. This is not good. I perforate the lovers head with a single bullet and try to kick the lifeless corpse off the desperate brigadier who clings onto it stubbornly. I can hear footsteps coming.  Shit…

*************************************************

“Ah OK, if Doctor say he sure then is ok oga, we will sort it out Sah”

He just got the go-ahead to dispose of me. No matter, my plan is almost completely drawn out.

“Sah?”

Another instruction.

“Ah, no problem with that one Oga. The president own is next week sah. Everything is ready.”

What does any of this have to do with the president?

“Ah ahn! Chief we cannot disappoint you now. You know say your boys dey loyal.” 

******************************************************

I have been driving for almost an hour when I see them in my rear view mirror. Their speed and flashing headlights lights can mean only one thing – armed robbers. Reckless and foolish thugs. Their car zooms past mine and I can hear one of them shout something before their vehicle fishtails and blocks my path. I step on the brakes and bring my vehicle to a halt. Reaching under my seat with my right hand to retrieve my Berretta 92FS, I watch as they clamber out of their Mercedes Benz. There are three of them and they appear intoxicated.

Good.

I use my left hand to turn the safety off and keep watching as they approach my vehicle from both sides. It only takes me a second to figure out exactly what will happen next.

“Guy! Come down from ya moto abi you wan  die?!” One of the crass semi-drunken fools shouts. I kick my door open to oblige him. In a few seconds he will wish I hadn’t. They all will.

*****************************************************

Writer: The Alchemist – @TTXIII

Assistant Writer (2 episodes): @Edgothboy

Translations: @thetoolsman, @0toxic, @xoafro, @D3ola

Editing: @Ms_Dania, @thetoolsman, @Edgothboy

FIST. 

(Owó Èsé)

A story of Courage, Discipline, Loyalty, Purpose and Sacrifice.

The experiment starts 4:00 pm, Thursday – on The Alchemists Corner.

Tags: #TNC, Announcement, Fist, Series

About the Author

The Alchemist

Related Posts

Aso-Ebi: Episode 8 – Double George Wrappers →

Aso-Ebi: Episode 7 – Quilted Kampala →

Aso-Ebi: Episode 6 – Fila Skontolo →

Aso-Ebi: Episode 5 – Baby Lace →