Devil on Black

"To what do I owe this untimely visit, Pastor?" The Elder man inquired.

The slap increased his wrath, and the only reason he's in the Elder man house is to find out why the ring failed him.

"If you're as strong as you claim, wouldn't you know why I'm here?"

The Elder man sat down and laughed.

"No, Pastor, it doesn't work like that."

"No, it does not." Pastor Alfred scraped his teeth between his tongue, a mirthless smile following his remarks before being chased away by a frown. ”

"Your ring let me down." He said. "It's the ring," "The ring, yes." Alfred  responded.

He yanked the ring off his finger and threw it on the table, furious.

"You said I'd win every war, physical or spiritual, with the ring." He said.

"But haven't you been healing the sick?" The Elder man inquired. The question fueled the fire that was already burning in his belly.

"You promised me with the ring I can do everything, or have you forgotten the sacrifices I made for it," he said, looking down at the knife on the table.

"I had to bury a child." Alfred, the pastor, muttered.

"You desired to be rich and well-known," "Been all that comes with a prize," grumbled the Elder man.

"You said I could do whatever with the ring." Pastor Alfred yells violently again. ”

I attempted to send a demon back to hell, but it failed, and you made a public joke of me. You and your foolish ring have tarnished my otherwise wonderful reputation."

"Are you insane?" "Why would you possible assume that one ring can achieve everything?" responded the Elder man.

"So you lied," "Your sacrifice was insignificant." You brought a youngster, when I informed you to get them many so you sacrifice can have weight but you got what you bargained for, I told you.

Have you noticed, Pastor, that the higher the bid, the wealthier it goes?"

The memories of what transpired in Charles's house, as well as the ere fantasy of what the church may be saying about him, triggered every muscle fiber in Pastor Alfred's body.

He lost control of himself and surrendered to the ugly beast that had immobilised him. He immediately grabbed the knife and in the blink of an eye, he went for the Elder man and stabbed the dagger into his heart.

Shocked, the Elder man tried to raise his attention to him, but Pastor Alfred was too far gone; he plunged the knife deeper into the Elder man's body until every life he had left was gone.

When Elder Man eventually passed away, Pastor Alfr

Rose walked out of the supermarket and headed towards the road, considering the merits and drawbacks of every potential way to exact revenge on Charles for everything he'd done to her.

She can't forgive herself for loving him so deeply, and she can't forgive him for shattering her heart and scattering the pieces.

She stood on the side of the road, waiting for a cab to come her way.

She was spinning around when she felt a hand touch her.

When she observed a woman in a wheelchair, she was filled with rage.

She tried to withdraw her hand away from her because she thought she was a beggar, but when she noticed the woman's eyes, she realized she was blind.

"It's so cold," the woman remarked, her voice scratchy and cracking. "Your hand is freezing."

Rose snarled and released the woman's grip on her hand. "My psychic powers have never lied to me," the woman added, reaching for Rose's hand once more.

Rose almost attacked her, but she soon changed her mind as a small kid approached to push the woman's wheelchair away from her.

"You must use the salt when you touch paths with her," The woman yelled at the top of her lungs.

Rose ignored her, stopped a taxi, and walked in.

Rose whispered angrily, "Foolish blind freight."

"You have to use the salt," As the taxi driver sped away, the woman yelled.

"She's gone," the boy announced to the woman. "She must use the salt," mutters the woman.

For salt is both life and death."

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

The dirty and unloved portrait of Charles leans against the wall. Mamila ran her finger along the gold frame.

His eyes in the painting were as lovely as flower buds freshly opened in the dawn, her pink nail polish almost purple in the half-light, and it comes away unclean.

She moved her finger across the image and took a few steps towards his closet.

This is a man she has grown to love, but her feelings for him were affecting everyone else.

It irritates her that he chose to leave her and be with another woman, and she will never accept it.

She peered at the painting through hardened eyes that had once been his salvation, exasperated.

But now they've simply delivered baseless allegations from a jealous boyfriend. Every muscle in her face was rigid, and she expressed intense mistrust, hatred, and despising without saying anything.

All that stands between her and her spouse is the other woman, the woman she can't approach, the woman she can't enter her home.

When she returned to the other woman's house with the purpose of getting Charles out of there, she couldn't step on her threshold.

It was exactly like that night before, with a great force shielding her.

She had to hand over Charles' phone to a little kid, and she had to stand outside for over half an hour, waiting for him to get terrified and come out of the home, but the other woman had to wreck everything.

She restrained him and prevented him from fleeing. She set the painting down and opened the wardrobe, scanning his clothes for nothing in particular.

When she lowered her gaze, she noticed a box, which she carried out and placed on the bed.

She opened it, interested to see what was inside, and her face lit up when she saw Nana's picture.

As she took the image from the box, her thoughts was filled with rage.

She checked the back of the photo and there it was, the words that would drive any envious woman insane, 'I LOVE YOU NANA,' brazenly scribbled on the back of the picture.

ed let go. He turned to walk away when he noticed a child staring up at him with horror and terror in his eyes.

”Grandpa,” As blood poured from the Elder man's chest, the tiny lad mumbled.

Pastor Alfred's eyes were filled with rage, and immediately he seized the child and began strangling him. The boy resisted, but all to no avail, and seconds passed before the boy died.

Pastor Alfred realized what had happened; he had slain two individuals, a guy and a child.

He went outside and into his car, wiping his eyes with his fingers. He has become another type of man for the sake of wealth and glory, a liar, a pretender, and a murderer.

His conscience has always told him that the judgment day is approaching, the day when everyone will come before their maker and account for their sins.

Her wrath hit her and she threw the photo on the ground, bitterness registering on her thoughts and growing like a tumor with each passing second, pushing on the part of her that was tranquil, surrounding her in toxic darkness.

When she couldn't take it any longer, she screamed and ripped every piece of clothing she could reach into the ground.

Minutes passed while she sat staring at Nana's picture, evaluating the positives and risks of getting rid of Nana.

When she heard footsteps, her eyes widened, and she realized she wasn't the only one in the house.

It couldn't be Charles since he wouldn't return to the house, wondering who had dared to enter.

She rose up, intending to stroll to the sitting room, but she came to a halt just a few steps from from the door that connects the room and the sitting room.

When she heard a low hiss, she whirled around and looked around the room.

She returned her gaze to the door and trotted towards the sitting room when she saw nothing.

She calmed down until she noticed someone, a girl sitting on one of the chairs with her legs crossed.

She stood there watching the girl draw out a ring of smoke from the cigarette she was carrying.

"What is your name?" Mamila inquired gently, appreciating her bravery. Rose exhaled, and the cigarette smoke spiraled skyward, as if the wisps were ancient mythical dance partners.

"You must be bitch number 49," Mamila raises an eyebrow, convinced that the bitch has no idea who she is.

"What is your name?" Rose felt a tinge of annoyance and swiftly turned her glance to Mamila. ”

Is he in there? He likes the cold water before intercourse." Mamila moved closer to her. "It appears that being pleasant is not your strongest suit, so I'll ask one more time, who are you?" she inquired.

"Where has Charles gone?" Rose asked again.  When she discovered there was a gun behind her, Mamila took a step back.

It's not for a good cause that she's in Charles' residence. "What do you intend to do with him?" Mamila inquired, intrigued.

Rose laughed. "What has he said to you, did he say he'll marry you?" "I'm his wife," Mamila grumbled.

"Oh, the bastard has a wife," she says. Rose inhales the cigarette and puffs it out seconds later, leaving Mamila with a grin but no words.

"How many years have you been married?" Mamila huffs and moves her eyes away, only to return it to her a second later.

 M"Did you come her to murder him?" Mamila asked and Rose, startled, turns her glance to her. "If you are," Mamila stated, bending her head forward, "I will not stop you."

"Is he not your husband?" Mamila rose up and walked towards her, stopping for a few seconds to stare at Rose before taking the cigarette from her.

"You think you're the only woman with the same ambitions, this isn't marriage, this is hell, that bastard is already dead to me," she exhaled.

"Bitch, never remove a cigarette from my mouth," Rose cautioned, her lips pursed.

"You have no idea what I'm going through right now,." Mamila said as she returned to her seat.

"Where has he gone?" Rose inquired, her irritability returning in full force.

"Where else," Mamila retorted, frown lines on her brow.

"He's at the new bitch place," Rose says again, "new bitch." "You didn't know, that guy left me for her; at first, I thought it was just a fling like he normally does, but he served me with divorce papers only yesterday."

"That jerk is truly abandoning me for her." She stated. "Oh," Rose says sarcastically. "You can understand why I don't care what happens to him.

I was seriously considering killing him myself." "How come you haven't?

Mamila inhaled the cigarette's odor, which warned of tar-infested lungs.

As she took each drag, there was something rotten in her eyes, as if she was perversely drawn to the macabre end to punish those who had brought her grief.

"Follow me," she urged as she rose from her chair. "Bitch, I'm not going anywhere with you." Rose stated.

"You're going to want to see this," she added.

"You had better not tamper with me," "I wouldn't do that."

"You're the one holding the pistol," "How did you find out I had a gun?" Rose inquired.

"Let's just say you're not very good at concealing things" Rose knitted her brows before pulling the revolver from its hiding place.

"Shall we," Rose paused before standing up to join her, holding the revolver at her side in case of the unexpected.

She trailed her until they arrived in Charles' chamber. Mamila took Nana's photograph and delivered it to her.

She waited for her to look at it because she needs to get rid of Nana and, because she can't get close, she needs a pawn, and Rose is the perfect person for the task.

"That's the bitch," Mamila pointed out. "She's the one he left me for."

Look at the opposite side of the coin." Rose did what she was told, igniting her rage.

Charles shattered her life, and now all she wants is to murder him. She has made up her mind to get rid of him, even if it means risking her life.

He has put her through the most agonizing ordeal imaginable. He pushed her out of his house on the day he pushed her to her breaking point.

"Kill that bitch if you actually want to hurt Charles," Mamila remarked. "Why would I do that, is that guy I want dead?" Rose scoffs.

"Seeing the one he loves slowly drift out of his arms and hug the frigid hands of death is the harshest punishment for Charles."

Killing Charles will be too good for him, genuine retribution is revealing the depths of his agony,"

"What do you stand to gain from this?" ”Gain,!” Mamila repeats herself. , Nobody wants that jerk killed more than I do.

You've probably seen the ashes outdoors. Charles set fire to my clothes and threatened to murder me if I didn't leave his house before he returned."

"Then kill the scumbag yourself." "I'd gladly do it, but our interests appear to overlap." I perceive you as someone with resources and power, and I believe we can collaborate.

If you want him dead, it simply means that he has ruined your life in the same way that he has damaged mine.

Let us exterminate this snake whose deadly venom has ruined our life.

"Let's catch this snake, cut it up, cook it, chew it up, and devour it, bones and all," she cried.

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

Pastor Alfred arrived at his house just before dark.

When he eventually came to a halt and parked the car, he drew a long breath as flashes of what had happened earlier flashed through his memory, reminding him of the disrespectful thing he had done.

He walked out of the car, dismissing every worker in the compound who greeted him, filled with rage and shame for what he had done.

He made his way to the front entrance. Turning the knob down firmly.

"Oh sweet Jesus," his wife Beatrice said as she rushed up to meet him.

Pastor Alfred shivered when he noticed two officers behind his wife.

"Pastor Alfred," Officer Martins remarked, rising to meet him, Officer Justin close behind.

"What exactly is going on?" Pastor Alfred inquired, concerned. The recollections of what he had done returned to his mind.

A cold wave engulfed him as he realized someone had seen him and phoned the cops.

"What' was going on?" Beatrice, his wife, asserts. " You left the hospital alone.

The church and I have been worried sick since you haven't been returning our calls."

"Pastor Alfred," Officer Justin yelled as he approached him, seeing he was shivering as if he had done something and was struggling to conceal it.