A Story by Harriet Ifeanyi

Not everyone is who you think they are...

The night was bitterly cold with the wind whistling and blowing harshly against my skin, sweeping my hair into a frenzy and I could only see about a few feet away from me. Dark clouds gathered in the heavens above but it didn't rain. It was the middle of the week and the streets were totally deserted, the people who got home on time were already asleep, rejuvenating for the next working day, it didn't help in making me feel less insecure and vulnerable.
I never really enjoyed walking alone on the street, most especially at night. And to make matters worse, there had been news about recent murders occurring in the area. People were advised to stay in and bolt the doors at night. I desperately wanted to get off the empty street and hopefully move to a busier place. 
The wind picked up and I hugged the scarf tighter around my neck, covering my ears and jaw as I walked past the crumbling houses that were long due for demolition. Up ahead, I could see some cars and a few people scurrying along in their hurry to get home. My spirits lifted and I gave a sigh of relief, smiling to myself. Home soon. 
I counted my steps as I walked briskly towards the bus stop breathing out the cold air. The night buses did not really frequent this area and chances of one arriving in the near future were almost non-existent. Still, I walked on. I was hopeful. 
I wasn't the only one at the bus stop waiting for a bus, I noticed a man sitting, he wore a dark blue woolen coat with the collars up to protect from the cold, both hands shoved deep into the pockets. He was constantly stamping his feet and rocking himself to keep out the cold. His hair was brown and looked like something he had combed neatly earlier, but the wind had blown it out of style. He looked to be tall enough. 
I kept a distance between us, not so close but close enough for him to notice that he wasn't alone. Slowly he turned to face me and I could see his dark eyes sizing me up and questioning my sudden appearance, half of his face was buried in the thick scarf that was wrapped around his neck, a handful of hair was blown over his face so that it cascaded over, hiding most of his facial features.
I felt goosebumps break out over my skin as a cold feeling crept up on me and the wind chilled my skin to ice. I turned and stared at him never breaking eye contact until he turned and looked away. I peeked into the night for any sign of an oncoming bus but I knew they wouldn't be coming now, if they kept to the timetable it would be another Fifteen minutes before one arrived. They never kept to the timetable, never on time. 
I reached into the inner pocket of my coat and clasped my hand on the cold steel blade and slowly pulled it out, making my way behind the man that sat silently with his head down. Swiftly and with mustered force, I plunged the blade deep into the back of his neck, relishing the feel of warm blood on my hand. He let out a sharp cry of pain and surprise, the blade had cut through his throat and was now protruding from the front, he choked on his own blood and slowly his breathing died down. A car drove past, too quickly to notice what was happening. I smiled, grateful that there was no other person around or I would have had to meet them with the same fate. 
The man dropped to the ground stiffly and still, like a heavy sack of potatoes. He made my kill easier this time, not uttering a sound. If my victims had been like this it would have saved me the stress.
I kicked his body into the gutter behind and covered it with a few dried leaves, washing my hands before putting on my gloves and sitting. The bus would be here in ten.

© 2021 Harriet Ifeanyi

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Share This
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on September 26, 2021
Last Updated on September 26, 2021
Tags: horror, thriller, suspense


Harriet Ifeanyi
Harriet Ifeanyi

Lagos city, Ogun state, Nigeria

Fictional writer and author with the imaginations to tear up your world. Share a thrill..! more..

Prologue Prologue

A Chapter by Harriet Ifeanyi