Stay With Me Afomia

Chapter 5

The mansion was suffocating in its silence, a quiet that clung to the walls like the lingering aftermath of a storm. Afomia stood in the center of the dark room, her eyes locked onto the three girls who were now nothing more than hollowed-out shells, their faces blank, their souls twisted into submission by Zein's power.

She had gotten what she wanted. The truth had been revealed. But as the pieces of her past fell into place, she felt something else stir within her—a growing sense of disgust. These girls, once her tormentors, were no longer of any use to her. They were a reminder of a life she had left behind, a past she was desperate to escape. They had no place in her future.

Afomia turned to Zein, her gaze sharp, her voice cold. "End it," she said, her words cutting through the silence like a knife. "Kill them. With the poison you've got. Make it quick."

Zein, who had been standing by the door, watching her with his usual, unreadable expression, didn't immediately respond. His golden eyes flickered toward the girls, his gaze calculating, almost as if he were assessing something beyond their broken forms.

Afomia's jaw tightened. She had made her decision. She didn't need them anymore—she didn't want them to linger in this mansion, their very presence a constant reminder of her painful past.

"Do it," she repeated, her voice firm.

Zein remained still, his posture as commanding as ever. "You want them dead?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm. "Just like that?"

Afomia crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. "Yes. They're nothing but a burden now. You know that. I don't need them to follow me. They're not part of my revenge anymore."

A slight flicker of something dark passed through Zein's eyes, but his expression remained neutral. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You don't get to decide who lives and who dies, Afomia," he said quietly. "Not yet."

Afomia's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean? You told me you would help me get rid of them." Her voice was low, simmering with frustration.

"I never said I would kill them for you," Zein replied, his tone steady but firm. "You don't get to wield that kind of power so recklessly. There are consequences. Always consequences."

Afomia clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. She could feel the heat of rage rising within her. Zein had promised her power—had promised that he would help her exact her revenge—but now, when it came down to it, he was holding her back.

"I don't need them alive to get what I want," she spat. "I want them gone. You can do it. I know you can. You've done worse."

Zein's gaze darkened, and for the first time, Afomia saw a hint of something in his eyes—a possessiveness, a cold, unwavering resolve that sent a chill down her spine.

"You think you're ready for this?" he asked softly, his voice like velvet, but with a hint of something dangerous. "To take lives? To end it all? You think you can handle the weight of that? The guilt? The consequences?"

Afomia stood still, her chest tightening with a mixture of frustration and confusion. She knew she wanted this—she had been consumed by her thirst for vengeance for so long. But something in Zein's words was making her hesitate. A part of her knew that this wasn't as simple as it seemed. The power he wielded wasn't just a tool—it was a force, and once she stepped into that world, there was no turning back.

"I don't need your permission," Afomia finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've already made up my mind."

Zein's eyes flickered with something unreadable. He took another step toward her, his presence overwhelming. "You think you're in control, don't you?" His voice was low, almost hypnotic. "But you're not, Afomia. Not yet."

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She had come this far. She had taken control of her life, of her destiny. But something inside her—a nagging feeling—kept her from following through. She wanted to end it. She wanted to be free of these girls, of the ghosts of her past. But was she ready to fully embrace the darkness that came with it?

"I won't kill them," Zein said quietly, his voice a soft warning. "Not for you. Not like this."

Afomia stared at him, her heart racing. She had come here for answers, for power. But now, faced with the reality of what it would take to move forward, she wasn't sure if she was ready to pay the price.

"Then what do you want me to do?" she asked, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and confusion. "What do you want from me?"

Zein's expression softened for a moment, the cold edge in his eyes dissipating just slightly. "What I want," he said quietly, "is for you to realize that true power isn't about killing those who stand in your way. It's about knowing when to let go—and when to let things be."

Afomia felt her breath catch in her throat. She didn't understand. This wasn't what she had expected from him. She had thought Zein would give her the power to destroy her enemies, to take control of her life once and for all. But now, it seemed like there were lines even he wouldn't cross.

"I'm not ready for this," Afomia whispered to herself, the weight of his words sinking in. "I'm not ready to be like you."

Zein's gaze softened ever so slightly, but his words were firm. "No, Afomia. You're not. Not yet."

And as they stood there, surrounded by the darkness of the room, Afomia realized the truth: Power wasn't something that could be taken—it had to be earned. And right now, she wasn't ready to pay the price for it.

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy as Afomia stood before Zein, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The weight of her words hung between them, sharp and unforgiving.

"Do it," Afomia warned, her voice cold, the edge of steel unmistakable. "Do it, or I'll be the one who kills them. I'm done with this. I don't need them alive anymore."

Zein's gaze flickered toward the girls, their bodies slumped in the chair, vacant eyes staring into the nothingness he had created with his power. Their fates were sealed; Afomia's decision had been made. He had warned her before, but now, her words were final, and there was no turning back.

"You think you can handle this?" Zein's voice was low, laced with a mixture of concern and disbelief. "Once they're gone, there's no coming back from it, Afomia. You'll live with that forever."

Afomia's eyes locked onto his, unflinching. "I'm not afraid anymore, Zein," she said, her voice unwavering. "I know what I want. Do it. Or I will."

Zein stood motionless for a moment, as if considering her words, but finally, his expression shifted, his golden eyes narrowing with a deep, unsettling intensity. His hands, ever so deliberate, moved toward the poison—a silent promise that it would end here. The suffocating silence stretched between them, broken only by the faint sound of the poison being prepared.

He didn't say anything more. He didn't need to. With a swift, practiced movement, he activated the mechanism, and the poison began to work its dark magic. The girls' bodies shuddered as their life forces drained, and their once bright eyes faded to emptiness. Afomia watched, her gaze cold and steady, every emotion locked away behind the mask she had built over the years.

When the final breath left their bodies, Afomia exhaled, a sense of finality settling into her chest. She had done what needed to be done. No more weakness. No more ghosts of the past.

"Done," Zein said quietly, wiping his hands clean of the poison's residue. "Are you satisfied?"

Afomia stared at the lifeless bodies for a moment longer, feeling the weight of her actions settle heavily in her chest. This was power. This was control. And yet, in the pit of her stomach, there was a gnawing emptiness, a hollow feeling she couldn't quite place.

She turned away from the bodies, her thoughts drifting to her next objective. "When are we going to go after the ones who killed me, Zein? The ones who are still out there, hiding from me?" Her voice was thick with a cold, quiet rage. "When do we take the fight to them?"

Zein's expression faltered. His golden eyes, once filled with power and control, now seemed distant, as if he were calculating something that required more time, more preparation.

Afomia's patience was running thin. "You promised me, Zein. You promised me that we'd make them pay. So when? When do we go after them?" Her voice trembled with a mixture of frustration and longing. "I want them dead. I want their blood on my hands."

Zein's silence was suffocating. The weight of her question hung in the air like an unspoken truth.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he answered, his voice quieter than usual, tinged with an unexpected softness. "Not yet, Afomia. You're not ready. Neither of us is. This isn't something we rush into. The brothers who killed you—they're powerful, more than you know. If we act too soon, if we go in without careful planning, it will cost us. Everything."

Afomia clenched her fists again, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. She wanted them dead now. She wanted to end it all. The anger inside her was a fire that refused to be extinguished.

"I don't care about plans. I don't care about waiting," she spat, her voice low and venomous. "I've waited long enough. I've suffered long enough. I want them gone now."

Zein stepped closer, his presence overwhelming and almost suffocating. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder, his touch cold but firm, and for a moment, Afomia wanted to push him away. But she stayed still, unable to resist the pull of his dark power.

"You don't understand, Afomia," Zein said softly, his voice like a caress, even though his words were heavy with meaning. "The consequences of acting too quickly will be more than you can handle. You'll regret it. And I can't let you throw everything away—not for revenge, not yet."

Afomia stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the weight of his words, but the anger, the desire for vengeance, was louder. It was all-consuming. But she also knew, deep down, that Zein was right.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her. "So we wait," she said quietly, her voice now tinged with uncertainty. "But how long?"

Zein's gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, something resembling understanding flickered in his eyes. "As long as it takes," he said. "We'll make sure you're ready. We'll make sure you can take them down when the time is right. But for now, we wait."

Afomia's gaze hardened once again. She wasn't satisfied with waiting. But she had no choice. Not yet.

"Fine," she said, her voice icy once more. "We wait. But don't think for a second that I'm going to forget. I'll be ready when the time comes, Zein. And I'll make them pay. All of them."

Zein nodded, his eyes narrowing. "I know you will. But until then... stay close, Afomia. Things are about to get more dangerous, and you'll need me more than ever."

Afomia didn't answer. She didn't need to. The hunger for revenge still burned within her, and as she walked away from the room, her resolve grew stronger. She would wait, but only because Zein said so. And when the time came, she would be the one to decide what happened next.