Bullets

Bullets are one of mankind's most dangerous inventions. Unlike stones, bullets are made to create holes in the victim. I was shot back when I was in junior secondary School, i survived, but it hurt. And now, I was sprayed with bullets. That would have been the end of a normal person's life, but I was far from normal.

I actually thought the blood would flow out of my own body, soaking the grey uniform I was wearing with the color of red wine. The force of so many bullets coming at me all at once was new, completely new. I was on the floor, my whole body throbbing with pain.

The bullets had pierced a good number of my organs, I could feel them on my inside like cancerous growths. About three had been sent deep into my neck, at least ten in my chest, and I had no idea just how many were sent into my abdomen.

The two robbers who came into the building were not the only ones on the team. There were three more persons outside the gate. All of them were male.

The sound of bullets being sprayed was audible, even to the deaf. When it stopped, one of the men outside spoke up;

"Is the security guard dead now?"

There was no response. Ikulore was the gang's leader. He was well built and at least six feet tall. He had trained his gang to always respect him, a part of respect was to always respond to his questions.

If they were there, they would respond. The two others outside were confused. Why was it so quiet inside? Why wasn't there any response to the boss's question?

Ikulore was skeptical about the event that just took place, so he hung his gun on this waist with a strap made to hold it, looked at the other two, and spoke;

"I'm going in, watch the perimeter"

"Yes boss", Iseiku responded.

Iseiku was the shortest of the crew, just about five feet tall, but he was the "fish". It was a title he earned from being able to get the worm off the hook without getting caught by the Fisherman. He always had a plan of escape.

Ikulore jumped into the compound and landed in a puddle of blood. He froze the moment he saw his two men. They were covered in holes, blood flowing out of them, as though they were the victims of the shooting.

Ikulore immediately cocked his gun and looked around, there was no one to be found. By deduction, Ikulore immediately concluded that the one who did this was a user of jazz, the dark arts, or juju, whichever you prefer to call it.

He called to the men outside;

"Fish, Jumbo, whatever you do, do not come inside"

The two members outside understood the instruction. Ikulore reached into his round neck and pulled out a little gourd that was hidden behind the top. He began to chant some incantations.

"Death has no friends, but the warriors know his face,

Death had no house, but the graves know their place,

Death has no family, but his mother is alive,

Death is at peace, but men die because they strive"

He began to repeat it over and over and over as the stood beside the bloody corpses of his gang members. I thought it was a pretty good poem, and as if on cue, the bullets began to fall out of my body as the holes closed up.

The sound of bullets falling one after the other is a strange sound. It's like the sound you hear when someone is firing a machine gun and the empty shells are falling out, it's similar, but the sound is different.

Ikulore didn't stop chanting as he looked in the direction of the sound he was hearing. The sound was coming from inside the security post.

Apparently, the force of multiple bullets hitting me simultaneously sent me back into the security post. Ikulore must have thought a spirit was appearing because he began to increase his volume as he walked towards me.

As the holes in my belly closed up, I began to lift myself up, slowly. The moon seemed to understand what was happening, so it suddenly became brighter, and under the shine of moonlight, I sat up on the ground and looked at Ikulore as he chanted.

Our eyes met. He looked at me carefully without pausing his chants. He noticed the numerous holes in my uniform and he began to make deductions. He must have concluded that I was the juju man because he took three steps back and smashed his gourd on the ground.

The moment he did that, his face was suddenly covered in intense pain as he fell to his knees and began to vomit blood. I stood up in complete confusion as I walked out of the security post. I wasn't sure what was happening, but if I had to guess, he tried to kill me with juju, but it seemed to have back fired.

I could see pink substances come out in the vomit. it was as though he was spewing out his organs. He bent over in pain and agony as he shrieked and vomited more blood.

The horror only lasted about two minutes. Ikulore was dead. I had learned something new, I could send an attack back to the sender.

There were still two men outside, so I called the police. As I ended the call, I heard a voice shout from outside the gate.

"Boss, boss, boss, what's going on?"