The night market

Fractures-Part 4

The mirror, glowing red, swallowed him whole. There was no falling this time. No transition.

One minute, Chike was screaming; the next, he was sitting in the driver's seat of his car.

Stunned, he sat still for several seconds before opening his eyes. The engine was on, and he could smell alcohol in the air.

Rain came down the windshield in thick lines, while the wipers moved slowly, too slowly to have any effect.

The dashboard clock read 11:48 pm.

Suddenly, he sensed something, or someone, moving beside him, and he glanced to his right.

Ifeoma sat in the passenger seat.

Alive.

Breathing.

Terrified.

Her hands were clenched in her lap, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

"Chike, please slow down," she pleaded quietly.

Chike could feel his heart thumping fast, as if trying to escape from his chest.

This wasn't a replay of what happened. It was happening now.

He could feel the steering wheel beneath his palms.

The ache behind his eyes.

The buzz in his veins.

This was happening in real time!

"I told you not to come with me," he snapped—his own voice, bitter, slurred.

"This is my mess."

Ifeoma turned toward him.

"It became my mess when you dragged me into it."

The words hit harder than any blow. Chike's vision blurred.

"Dragged you into what?" he whispered, both to her and to himself.

She laughed shakily, tears spilling free.

"The market, your stories and your deals."

"You thought you were just trading information, but you were trading people."

Chike stared at the road ahead as it curved sharply.

Ifeoma continued. "You went there first. You wanted to forget what you did, you wanted the guilt gone."

Chike's heart slammed painfully against his ribs. At this rate, the poor organ might give up.

"So I paid the price," Ifeoma said.

"I took the memory. I took the truth."

A shape loomed at the edge of the road. Chike jerked the wheel, and the tyres screeched.

The world exploded into noise - metal twisting, glass shattering, rain screaming.

Then.....silence.

The car sat at an angle, steam hissing from the hood. Chike gripped the wheel tightly and turned to the passenger seat.

Ifeoma was slumped forward, blood streaking down her temple.

"No, no, no!" Chike screamed.

He reached for her, and her eyes fluttered open.

She smiled faintly.

"You don't get to forget again," she whispered. "Not this time."

Her hand slipped from his, and the world began to peel away, reality tearing like wet paper.

As everything collapsed into darkness, a final voice echoed—not hers, not his.

Deep. Ancient. Certain.

"Trade complete."

Chike screamed, the sound resembling more of a howl, and woke up on the cold ground of the Night Market, surrounded by shattered mirrors and whispering stalls.

The Keeper towered over him, clearer than before.

Closer

Waiting