THE ROOM OF THE DEAD BRIDES

That night the rain was falling heavily, the gutters were over flooded and the streetlights blurred, the thunderstorms sounded so heavy on rooftops, within minutes the road was overflowing like a river, not a place where cars normally pass. I stood under the bus stop covering myself with a cardigan, water kept dripping from the leaking ceiling landing on my shoulder every second. It's almost midnight, no cars are passing, my shoes were completely soaked by the rain, and my stomach was empty after hours of smiling at strangers in the bookstore café where I work. And in my purse, I had 500 naira. I laughed. I laughed not because it was funny, but I knew that if I didn't laugh I would break down there crying under the rain. At twenty-four, I used to think about my life in a different way. I thought love would stay. My hard work would pay off. I do think that hope belongs to anyone who fights for it. But love always finds a way to leave. Money never stayed long enough to even matter. And hope… it feels like one of those expensive things that only other people can afford. I checked my phone. It was 3% battery. No messages. No missed calls. No one is checking up on me. The city was still busy despite the rain. Then across the road, an incident happened. A motorcycle ran from a red light and slipped on the road, horns sounded so loud, a black SUV tried to avoid it, went off the road, and hit a metal barrier, which made the ground tremble. People screamed! Glasses shattered all over the place. Smoke poured from under the bonnet of the car. Everyone was shocked and then, like people often do, they rushed to the scene, not to help but to watch. Some brought out their phones and started recording. Everyone was just curious but no one made a move to save the victims. The smoke got intense, and I could clearly hear the sparks popping near the engine. Someone screamed, “It might catch fire!” Another voice shouted, “Stay back!” But I didn't stand back, I ran. I didn't even know why, maybe I was tired of standing and sometimes fear causes people to freeze. I rushed into the rain. Water hit my face so hard as I crossed the flooded road my heart was beating so fast. As I got to the car, the driver slumped over the wheel and blood was rushing out of his head. The back door had bent so badly that it became stuck. Inside the back seat, a man sat with one hand held on the seat and the other pressed onto his face where blood was running down his face. Slowly he lifted his head, our eyes met. Grey eyes. Cold, calm, and sharp. The eyes were so captivating, they made me feel like I just stepped into something I can't easily let go of. Even though he was bleeding, he still appeared calm in a way normal people never do; his expensive suit had been torn by the shoulder. The rain fell from the broken window onto his laps. He still acted like a billionaire not trapped inside a wrecked car “Step back,” he said. His voice was so steady, like someone used to passing out orders. “The door is stuck!” I shouted through the rain. “Step back,” he said again. “You can start ordering people around when you get out of here.” I picked up a bent metal rod from the broken barriers and pushed it into the door frame. The people behind me gasped. “She's crazy!” “It will explode!” I ignored them and pulled the door harder. Nothing happened. The man inside was just watching me. I placed one of my feet on the SUV and pulled again, this time with all my strength. The glass cracked, and something sharp cut my wrist. I felt pain but I didn't stop. I pulled harder one last time. The door flew open, and the force flew me backward into the rain. He stepped out, tall, with broad shoulders, a straight posture. And with the blood on his face, he looked more dangerous. All of a sudden, the crowd went quiet. Then they began to whisper. “Oh my God.” “That's him” “Adrain Vale” I asked myself, “Adrian Vale?” The popular billionaire that everyone knew? His face was literally everywhere, in business magazines, charity posters, gossip blogs, and TV interviews. He's one of the richest bachelors in the country, He glanced at the crowd at once with an irritated face and turned back to me and the looks in his eyes changed. Now softer and interested. Blood was still running down my wrist and mixed with the rain, and he noticed immediately, he removed his white silk handkerchief from his coat and got closer to me. “I'm fine,” I said quickly. “No, you're not.” Before I could say a word, he took my hand. His fingers were cool and steady, it felt too familiar for someone I had just met. He wrapped the handkerchief around my wrist carefully and tied it tight enough to stop the bleeding. “What's your name?” he asked. “Elena” He looked at me “Elena.. What?” “Elena Hart.” And he slowly said “Elena Hart” like he was trying to remember it. Siren sound in the distance. Then three black cars stopped behind the crashed SUV and men in suits rushed out speaking at the same time. “Mr. Vale!” “Sir, are you hurt?” “We're securing the area now.” They rushed around him panicking, but Adrian acted as if they did not exist. He kept on looking at me. One man held an umbrella over him, but he pushed him away. “You endangered your life to save someone you don't know,” he said. Rain ran down his face, passing the cut near the side of his forehead. “Most people help only when they know money will be involved.” I said nothing, my heart was beating too fast. “Women like you are rare.” The way he said it made me so uncomfortable. He dipped his hand in his pocket and handed me a black card with one silver letter on it. V. No phone number. No title. No explanations. “I always repay my debts, Elena.” As I took it he said, “Expect to hear from me soon.” Then he turned and entered one of the waiting cars, and after a few seconds, they all drove off. I just stood there, astonished and drained by the rain. Suddenly, the crowd started talking again. “She touched him.” “The girl is lucky!” “Lucky?” I asked myself. I got the last bus home. My apartment looked miserable as always, the paint was peeling from the walls, and the generator made a loud coughing sound. I went up to the second floor, I was too tired to think. Then I stopped, something was placed neatly in front of my door, a bouquet of white roses, looking fresh and perfect. The rain didn't touch them. I was surprised. I looked down the empty corridor, and no one was there, no footsteps, no voices. Slowly, I bent down and picked it up, I checked, and there was no note and no name. Only a ribbon was tied around the flowers, and under the bouquet, there was a white handkerchief, stained with blood. The same one Adrain Vale had tied around my wrist, the same one he left with me. I was so scared my keys slipped from my hand. I stared at the flower as cold blood ran down my spine. This is unbelievable. Then my phone vibrated inside my bag, and my hand as I answered. A woman whispered, " Don't let him inside.” The call ended. And, in that exact moment, three slow knocks came from behind me, from the other side of my apartment. “Elena.” I heard my name, my blood ran cold.