The Eyes Of Death Chronicles: Young Masters

Chapter Six: Remember

The streets of Lagos were quiet that evening, cloaked in the kind of silence that made shadows seem alive. I slipped through the back gate of Aunt Sade's home, careful not to disturb the gravel beneath my feet. It wasn't the first time l'd returned late from a trip, and I knew the look that would be waiting on her face when she saw me: anger laced with disappointment. Still, I thought, she wasn't my mother. Aunt Sade had always been more of a guardian, filling the void left by my mother's death.

I moved quietly, my footsteps light as whispers. The front door creaked as I eased it open, and I hesitated before stepping inside. That hesitation likely saved my life.

The first shot came from the kitchen. It shattered the silence, slamming into the wall just inches from my head. My body froze, heart racing as if it were trying to break free from my chest. Slowly, I turned to face her.

Aunt Sade stood in the kitchen doorway, a shotgun in her trembling hands. Her hair was disheveled, her face streaked with tears, and her bloodshot eyes gleamed with a strange mix of rage and despair.

"Auntie... it's me," I said, raising my hands in surrender.

Her response was another shot, the deafening sound filling the small house.

This one missed too, but not by much.

Panic surged through me. She wasn't mistaken—| could see it in her eyes. She knew exactly who l was, and she wanted me dead.

"Aunt Sade!" | yelled, taking a step back. "What are you doing?"

Her voice broke as she shouted, "You think I don't know? You're just like the rest of them! A killer, a monster! I should have done this long ago!"

Her words hit harder than the bullets ever could. Aunt Sade had been the only person I had left, the one who had raised me when my father was too busy chasing business deals. For years, she had been my rock, the closest thing I had to a mother. And now she was trying to kill me.

I knew I had to act quickly. The longer I hesitated, the closer death came. I darted toward the stairs, narrowly avoiding another shot. My mind raced, searching for a way to stop her without hurting her.

But there was no reasoning with her.

She was consumed by something far darker than anger-something that made her unstoppable. When I tried to pin her down, she fought with a strength that defied her age and frame.

Her hands clawed at me, her voice raw as she screamed curses I had never heard her use before.

I begged her to stop. I swore I wasn't the monster she believed me to be. But my words fell on deaf ears.

It wasn't until she broke free and lunged at me with a kitchen knife that I realized I had no choice. Instinct took over. I grabbed the shotgun from her hands and turned it on her, my hands shaking as I leveled it at her chest.

"Please, don't make me do this," | whispered.

But she didn't stop. With a cry that echoed through the house, she charged at me, the knife glinting in the dim light.

The shotgun fired.

The sound was deafening, the recoil jarring. Aunt Sade staggered backward, her hands clutching her chest. She collapsed onto the floor, her breaths shallow and ragged. Blood pooled around her, staining the tiles a deep crimson.

I dropped the gun and knelt beside her, tears streaming down my face. "Why, Auntie?" I choked out. "Why would you do this?"

Her lips trembled as she whispered,

"Thank you."

And then she was gone.

For a long moment, I couldn't move.

The weight of what I had done pressed down on me, suffocating and inescapable. My hands were stained with blood-her blood-and I knew they would never be clean again.

I stumbled to the bathroom, desperate to wash the evidence away. But when I looked in the mirror, I froze.

My left eye had changed. The iris, once a warm brown, was now a swirling mix of black and red. It glowed faintly, a mark of something I didn't understand but instinctively feared.

The Oju Iku-the Eyes of Death. I had heard the stories, whispered in hushed tones, of how they awakened after acts of great loss and pain. But unlike those before me, I bore only one. My right eye remained unchanged, a stark reminder of my fractured state.

I wanted to scream, to claw the eye out of my skull. Instead, I sank to the floor, trembling. My reflection stared back at me, unrecognizable.

The police arrived not long after. I had called them, my voice shaking as I explained what had happened. When they entered the house, their faces turned grim.

The evidence was all there-the broken furniture, the bloodstained tiles, the shotgun discarded on the floor. But their expressions changed when they saw my eye.

"Put your hands up," one of them barked, his voice sharp.

I obeyed, too numb to resist. Cold steel wrapped around my wrists, then my neck, then my ankles. They cuffed me like a criminal, as though I might break free and destroy them all.

"You're under arrest for premeditated murder," another officer said.

"What?" | croaked, my voice barely audible. "She-she tried to kill me! I didn't-"

"And aiding and abetting a known traitor," he added, cutting me off.

The words made no sense. "Traitor?

Who?"

"Your father," the officer said, his tone devoid of sympathy. "You're going to tell us where he is, or you'll pay the price for his crimes."

I felt the floor tilt beneath me, my legs unable to hold me up. My father-a traitor? And I was being blamed?

They dragged me to the station and threw me into a small, windowless room. The hours stretched on, the silence punctuated only by the occasional creak of the door.

When a detective finally entered, his face was as cold as the steel cuffs I wore. He placed a folder on the table, his gaze piercing.

"You're facing the death penalty," he said without preamble. "But there's a way out."

I stared at him, too drained to respond.

"We need a leader for the new Six Masters of Death," he continued.

"You'll take the position and train at the Special Squad Academy. In exchange, we'll make all of this disappear."

I didn't deserve to live after killing Aunt Sade. But when faced with the choice, I chose survival.

"I'll do it," I said, my voice hollow.

The detective nodded, satisfied. "Good.

Your transfer begins immediately."

That night, I was cuffed again and placed in the back of a transport truck.

The road to the academy stretched before me, long and uncertain. My body was bound, but my mind raced.

I had killed to awaken the Eyes of Death, just like the others who had come before me. And now I would be trained to become something far worse.

The darkness outside the truck seemed to mirror the void inside me. The girl I had been was gone, replaced by something broken and dangerous.

Somewhere deep in my heart, I wondered if I would ever feel whole again. I just had an experience to forget but all I do is REMEMBER…………