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Rated: 18+ · Novel · Crime/Gangster · #1834957
It is a story of the rise of a street husler to the top of the Nigerian Crime Underworld.
                                                                            PROLOGUE

"There is a way that seems right to a man but the end thereof is death", Victor Mariachi sighed as he stared out the window - another night without sleep. His eyes were red and they sunk into his face like two eggs dipped into the mud. Outside thunder rumbled in the distance - finally the rain had arrived. For a moment he saw a young boy running into streets followed by his sisters, and they danced happily in rain - that was a long time ago, he couldn't even remember when. Now his nights were filled with the sounds of gunshots and screams...sometimes even faces. He could see Sonny, his lopsided grin as cocked his to one side; he saw Lion, fearless as ever, laughing even as his guns blazed; he saw Elohor as beautiful as ever. A tear trickled down his cheek

"Victor", a woman appeared behind him

"I couldn't sleep" he replied. The woman wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his back. The softness of her breasts against his back sent sparks through him. His heartbeat quickened. Victor closed his eyes knowing what would come. He would take her fast and hard. His demons would be sated and she would leave silently- just as she came - before morning came.

"Folake" he caught her hand "please don't go, stay with me". Folake nodded. She would never say no, for in her own strange way she loved Victor Mariachi more than life itself. However sleep still refused to come to Victor. He watched the even rise and fall of her shoulders as she lay beside him.

"you're still awake" she said suddenly

"how did you know?" he smiled weakly

"because I know", she turned towards him. There were tears in her eyes. Her kiss was long and passionate. It told a story of everything she had ever felt and would always feel for him. Victor felt it flow through his heart, like the cool breeze on a sunny day; like a beautiful song long forgotten.

"Folake", he whispered, and the phone rang.

It was time to go.















PART ONE: 1985

CHAPTER ONE



She'd stopped moving. From a corner in their tiny sparsely furnished one-room apartment, Victor watched his mother with relief. Her body no longer shook violently from the cough, it was now the slow rythmic movement of sleep. He looked out the window again, it was almost daybreak. His sisters were still asleep - but like their mother, they shrunk more with each passing day,

"Victor!" a whisper came from the window. He looked around the room and then crept towards the door.

"Tijani?" he whispered peeking through the window. A young slender albino boy creapt out of the shadows and waved.

"How far?" Victor quizzed.

"Kamaru said we should come now!" Tijani replied. Victor glanced back at his family -still asleep- and crawled through the window.

This was were it all began.- with a boy who wanted to feed his family.



That's how I remember it. We made our way to a scrapyard a few blocks away - back then  it was called the barracks. This was where the 'strong men' gathered. Kamaru was one of them. He was the head of a street gang - the Oluwole boys - and to many of us 'smallies', that made a hero.



The scrap-yard was scary. i could feel my heart pounding as we walked inside.

"nobody's here" i whispered to Tijani

"ssshhh!" he rplied. At that moment, I saw something move in the shadows. I gasped and turned on my heels,- ready to run - but Tijani caught my arm

"Victor, you too dey fear!", he whistled three times and waved. The figure emerged once more and whistled back.

"let's go" he whispered.     



         
© Copyright 2011 Lucien Kolyonii (soulsearcher27 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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