Corpse Art

Uche suddenly felt a slight pain in his missing eye, like a faint, naked flame flickering deep within the empty socket. It wasn't excruciating, but it was far from pleasant. As he instinctively placed his palm over his black eye patch, something strange began to happen.

The slight pain vanished, and the faint burning sensation disappeared—replaced by something else. A blurred image began to form in the empty socket of his missing eye, almost as if it were a vision.

He rubbed his hand over the eye patch a few more times, and the image became clearer, transforming into a distinct vision.

In the vision, he saw a large, spacious, and luxurious bedroom filled with high-end furniture. The entire room was white, and the walls were adorned with numerous pencil illustrations. A dining table sat a few meters from the large bed, with a glass cup on it containing powdered coffee. A silver kettle stood nearby.

In an instant, a shaky hand reached for the kettle and poured its contents into the glass cup, spilling some liquid on the table as it trembled. Uche watched as the hand grasped the cup and moved it toward the bed. Although he couldn't see the person, he guessed they sat down on the bed as the hand lifted the coffee to their mouth. A few seconds later, the cup was empty.

The hand tightened its grip on the now-empty glass, causing several cracks to appear before it shattered into countless pieces. Some of the shards pierced the hand, and blood began to seep from the wounds. Then, just as suddenly as it started, the vision faded.

Uche blinked, disoriented, and rubbed his eye patch again. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his heart raced.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered, still trying to make sense of what he had just seen.

"Could my eye have been transplanted to that person? How am I able to see what they're seeing? This doesn't make any sense."

Determined to find answers, Uche resolved to return to the lab where he had been taken the previous day.

"I have to find that person," he whispered, as he jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom.

---

Meanwhile, a crowd had gathered in front of a popular theater in Lagos City. More people were still arriving, each curious and eager to confirm what they'd heard. Among them was a young woman in her early twenties, wearing a brown scarf around her neck. She weaved through the crowd until she reached the front of the theater.

People normally gathered here to watch movies everyday, but today was different. The number of people present was twice the usual turnout. They weren't here to watch a movie though—they were here for a complete different purpose.

Standing before the theater was a statue of a middle-aged woman, intricately carved from pure gray stone and sleek metal. The woman had short, braided hair, small eyes, and her mouth was slightly open in awe. In her arms, she cradled a bouquet of roses.

The statue evoked admiration from the crowd. It was a stunning work of art, and whoever had sculpted it was clearly a master. But what surprised people the most was that the statue hadn't been there the night before. It had simply appeared overnight. No one could understand how something so intricate could have been erected in such a short time.

The young woman, intrigued, took out her camera and began snapping photos from different angles, capturing every detail. As she zoomed in to get a closer look, she noticed something peculiar beneath the statue's right arm, where the bouquet was held—a strange symbol, carefully carved into the stone. It resembled the letters P and L crossing each other, forming a one-sided hammer intersecting with a spanner.

Confused but curious, she zoomed in further to get a clearer shot. Just as she clicked the shutter, something wet landed on her forehead. She lowered the camera and reached up, touching the substance. When she brought her hand back down, her eyes widened in horror.

"Blood?" she whispered, shocked.

She looked up to see where it had come from, and that's when she noticed it: blood was slowly dripping from the statue's shoulder.

"This isn't an ordinary statue," she called out, her voice rising with alarm. "Everyone, step back!"

The crowd turned to look, and soon they, too, saw the blood.

"What is that?"

"Is that blood?"

"How is there blood coming from a statue?"

Fear began to ripple through the gathering, and some people backed away. A few minutes later, police arrived and cordoned off the area with caution tape. By that time, blood was already seeping from the statue's eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, giving it a horrifying appearance.

Most of the crowd quickly dispersed, but the authorities moved in to investigate. After a thorough examination, they made a grim discovery: the "statue" was, in fact, the corpse of a middle-aged woman, recently deceased. They couldn't determine the cause of death, apart from the blood seeping from her body. An elite forensic team was called in to perform an autopsy.

Within hours, news of the "corpse statue" spread like wildfire across the city, then the country, and finally, the world. The internet was abuzz with shock and speculation, as photos and videos of the grisly statue circulated rapidly. Soon, the creation was given a name:

"Corpse Art."

---

Uche had heard about the "Corpse Art" incident and wondered what kind of heartless and insane person could be responsible for such a gruesome display. Who could kill someone, turn their body into a statue, and leave it in front of a public theater for the world to see?

Still shaken, Uche knew he had more pressing matters to attend to. He waited for nightfall before heading back to the lab, aware of the risks but determined to uncover the truth. As darkness swallowed the remnants of the setting sun, Uche donned a black hood, adjusted his eye patch, and slipped out of his house.

He moved cautiously, knowing that if he wasn't careful, he could be captured again. He had to be extra vigilant.

Hours later, Uche found himself standing in front of the tall building where he had been held. The structure, with its gleaming glass and pristine metal, stood 21 stories high. Looking up, Uche spotted the broken window on the first floor—the same one through which he had escaped the night before.

He stood there for a moment, contemplating his next move. But before he could take a step, a voice rang out from beside him.

"Hey, stop right there! Identify yourself."

"Wait a minute, isn't that the guy from yesterday?" another voice yelled. "He's got some nerve showing his face here again! Get him!"

Uche didn't wait for them to get any closer. He bolted, sprinting away from the building as fast as he could. Seven men chased after him, and more were pouring out of nearby buildings, alerted by the commotion.

He turned down a random alley and sprinted through an empty, abandoned lobby. The space was dimly lit by a flickering orange bulb, casting eerie shadows as he ran. He could hear the footsteps of his pursuers echoing behind him, but he didn't dare look back.

When he reached a dead end, he quickly turned left into another passageway and kept running. His heart pounded in his chest as he cursed himself for being so reckless.

'Damn it, why didn't I think this through? Of course they'd be looking out for me. They know who I am. I'll have to leave the city for good after this.'

He couldn't afford to be captured again. He reached the end of the passage just as a man lunged at him from around the corner, aiming to grab his head. But Uche was too quick—he jerked back and dodged the attack.

Four more men stepped out, blocking his path. They advanced toward him as he took several steps back. The men chasing him from behind were closing in fast, about fifteen of them now.

'Ugh, think, think, think! What can I do? I can't fight them all. I can't reveal my healing ability, not yet.'

Then, suddenly, something strange happened. The five men in front of him collapsed, one after another, as if electrocuted. Uche froze in surprise, staring as their bodies twitched on the ground. The men behind him stopped too, shocked by what they were witnessing.

"What the hell just happened?" one of them shouted.

"What did you do, you bastard?" another yelled.

Before Uche could respond, a figure appeared from the shadows. Clad in black, the person's outfit looked almost like an astronaut's suit, but darker, with an opaque helmet obscuring their face.

"Who are you?" one of the men demanded. "Identify yourself!"

The figure didn't answer. Instead, they simply pointed at Uche, signaling for him to run.

Uche hesitated for a second, but when the men began advancing again, he took the chance and sprinted past the mysterious figure. He made a sharp right turn, and the figure followed close behind.

Behind them, the men continued their chase, but debris suddenly fell from above, blocking their path. Dust clouded the air, and Uche and the figure escape through the hallway.