05- The Death of the World

They threw things at her as she crossed the road.

Stones, stale fruits, and sometimes, cars.

They didn’t care. They just wanted to hurt her. They saw the metal on her right arm, her left leg, they saw the metal scarring on the side of her face and they thought one thing and one thing only: she was different.

And they hated her for that.

She didn’t care, though.

We should kill them, the Sphere said through her mind. They pose a significant threat to us.

“No,” the girl mumbled and that was all she said as she allowed the fruits hit her, the damp smell choking her nose.

If we do not kill them, they will kill us. It will be painful.

The girl did not answer. She just wanted, badly, to go to the alleyway and close her eyes. She did not sleep anymore. The Sphere made sure of that.

She turned through a gap in two buildings and saw her torn mattress being flipped by a man with two others behind him. They smiled when they saw her.

They didn’t waste time with words, or threats. That was beneath the Desolation Three. They destroyed first, talked later.

The biggest of them threw a punch to the girl’s jaw and the girl could do nothing to stop it.

They will kill us.

One of them held a knife and he stepped forward without hurry and pressed it through her thigh, ignoring her screams, as the other tore her shirt, pulling down her trousers.

We must act. Now.

Two of the men had pinned her down to the wet ground and the other man was walking towards her, removing his belt. She started to cry. She didn’t know she could still cry but she was crying now, the tears made of dark oil.

Give me control and I will end this.

The man walked closer, a sneer on his lips.

Just give in.

Th girl closed her eyes, and took a deep breath in. Then she let it out, and allowed the Sphere control.

When she opened her eyes, there were three bodies on the ground.

Now, the Sphere said, let us burn this world. Let me fulfil my purpose.

“No,” the girl mumbled as she stared at the bodies that had been torn apart and dismembered and shredded, and then she looked at her bloody hands. “No.”

Don’t worry, you will change your mind soon.

“No,” she said again, with more strength.

Turn around, girl.

The girl did, and she saw a growing mob armed with spears, guns, sticks and all sorts. All of them had the same murderous look in their eyes. They were going to kill her; she knew that much.

“Sphere,” the girl said as she closed her eyes, “Will you tell me a story?”

If the sphere had a mouth, it would be smiling.

Yes. It would be.

Anthony Azekwoh is a Nigerian-based author and artist. He has written five books so far, and is now working on the sequel to his fourth book Ṣàngó, Oya.