Take a Message to Kelsey

CH. 1(2/2): Black December

Amber’s screams pierced the cold night air, desperate and raw, but the darkness swallowed her cries. The two men restraining her were like immovable pillars, their grip like iron shackles on her wrists. She twisted, kicked, and writhed, but it was futile - their strength far outmatched hers.

“Please! Please!!” she sobbed, her voice cracking under the weight of fear. “Don’t kill me! Please, I beg you!”

Her breath came in frantic gasps as she thrashed against their unyielding hold, but there was no mercy in their grasp, no hesitation in their actions.

Damilare stood before her, his presence as ominous as the deathly silence that followed her pleas. His entire form was cloaked in black, from the heavy leather gloves on his hands to the ski mask that concealed his face. Only his eyes - cold and calculating - peered through the darkness, glinting like twin daggers in the dim light.

Amber’s chest rose and fell in erratic rhythm as she struggled to see beyond the mask, to find something - anything - that would reveal who he was beneath it. But there was nothing. Just those eyes. And the gun.

The sleek pistol in his gloved hand gleamed under the faint light, its presence suffocating, pressing into the space between them like an unspoken threat. Her blood ran cold as Damilare tilted his head slightly, his voice low, smooth, almost eerily calm.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmured. “I’ll be slow with you.”

Amber’s stomach churned with terror, bile rising in her throat. She yanked against the men’s grip with newfound desperation, her body thrashing wildly. She would not surrender. Not like this.

But they were too strong. Their hands held her firm, shoving her back, keeping her pinned like a helpless animal before the predator who watched her with unreadable intent.

The night stretched on, silent except for Amber’s muffled sobs and the sound of her struggles growing weaker, drowned beneath the suffocating weight of fate closing in.

Amber lay on the cold, unforgiving ground, her body trembling with pain and humiliation. Her dress was torn, barely covering her battered form. Blood seeped from between her thighs, staining the polished floor beneath her. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as she curled into herself, wrapping her arms around her quivering body in a feeble attempt to shield what was already broken.

Damilare stood over her, his expression hidden behind the dark ski mask. He zipped his trousers with an air of finality, his movements slow, calculated. There was no remorse in his stance, no hesitation as he turned his head slightly and flicked his wrist - a silent command.

His men obeyed instantly, releasing their grip on Amber and stepping back. Without a word, they followed their leader into the shadows, their boots crunching against the gravel as they disappeared into the night outside.

Amber remained still, her body wracked with silent sobs. Her once vibrant eyes, filled with terror and agony, now stared blankly at the dark sky above, that were filtering through the window blinds. The stars blurred through her unshed tears, distant and indifferent, as though the universe had turned its back on her suffering.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to claw at the earth beneath her, to drag herself away from this place, but her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive as the floor were made of marbles. The echoes of their laughter, the scent of their sweat, the weight of their hands - all of it clung to her like a suffocating shroud.

A sharp gust of wind blew through the empty street, seeping through the windows, whispering against her bruised skin. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the crushing realization that she was alone. Alone with her pain. Alone with the darkness.

The night stretched on, silent and cruel, as Amber lay there in the house - broken, bleeding, and forgotten.

Exactly ten minutes after the m******e in Mr. Dennis' house.

Kelsey stepped into the house, his heart brimming with excitement as he called out, "Mom! Dad! Amber! I'm home!" The warmth of victory still coursed through his veins from winning his first court case, and he couldn't wait to celebrate with his family. The air smelled of rich spices, the remnants of the Christmas Eve feast they had prepared, and he smiled, imagining his mother’s joyful embrace and his father’s proud nod.

But as he stepped further in, the eerie silence gnawed at him. Something was wrong.

His steps slowed. His pulse quickened. The dining table, once a symbol of togetherness, was now a grotesque crime scene. His father, Mr. Dennis Anayo, lay sprawled across the floor, a dark pool of blood widening beneath his head. His mother, Mrs. Jane Anayo, was slumped in her chair, her once-loving eyes now lifeless, staring at nothing. The room, which should have been filled with laughter and clinking glasses, was now frozen in horror.

Kelsey's breath hitched in his throat. His knees weakened, and he staggered forward, his mind refusing to accept what his eyes beheld. "No... no, no, no! Dad? Mom?" His voice cracked as he rushed toward them, dropping to his knees, his trembling hands reaching out to shake them as if his touch could stir them back to life. "Mom, please... please wake up!"

But they were gone.

A choked sob tore from his throat as his fingers pressed against their still-warm skin. Tears blurred his vision, and his chest constricted with an unbearable ache. His parents - his foundation, his guiding light - were taken from him in the most brutal manner.

A low, weak groan snapped his attention away.

His head jerked toward the sound, and his blood ran cold at the sight of Amber.

She lay crumpled on the floor near the dining table, her dress torn and stained, her hair disheveled. Her breathing was shallow, her body limp. Kelsey scrambled toward her, his hands shaking as he cupped her face. "Amber! Amber, wake up!" His voice was urgent, frantic. He gently tapped her cheeks, but she barely stirred.

His mind raced, fury and despair warring within him. Who had done this? Why?

Kelsey clenched his jaw, his fists trembling. He would not let this horror go unanswered. But first, he needed to get Amber to safety. He needed to call for help. His grief and rage could wait - his sister needed him.

With his heart pounding, he reached for his phone, his fingers trembling as he dialed for emergency assistance, his mind already burning with the need for justice. He would find whoever did this. And he would make them pay.

The following morning.

Kelsey sat by Amber’s hospital bed, his hands trembling as he clutched her limp fingers. The rhythmic beeping of the monitor was the only sign that she was still alive. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes swollen from hours of weeping. The sterile white walls of the hospital room closed in on him, suffocating him with the weight of loss and helplessness. His sobs were raw, guttural, echoing through the silent room as he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Amber... I'm so sorry I wasn’t there."

His heart clenched painfully as he looked at his sister’s face. Her eyes remained shut, her skin pale and bruised. The strong, lively Amber he knew was gone, replaced by this fragile shell. The thought of what she had endured made his stomach churn with rage and sorrow. He buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Then, the sound of hurried boots against the tiled floor broke through his grief. He looked up just in time to see his elder brother, Ayotunde, stride into the ward, still clad in his army uniform. His presence was commanding, but the moment he saw Kelsey’s broken state, his expression softened with deep concern.

"Kelsey..." Ayotunde's voice was firm but gentle as he knelt beside his younger brother, gripping his shoulders. "Omo mi, stand strong. What happened? What happened to our family?"

Kelsey couldn’t speak. Instead, he collapsed into his brother’s embrace, his sobs wracking his body. Ayotunde held him tightly, his grip steady, as if he could physically hold Kelsey together while he shattered. His own heart ached, but he knew he had to be strong - for Kelsey, for Amber, for the family they had lost.

Minutes passed before Kelsey could even form words. "They’re gone, Ayotunde... Mom and Dad... They’re gone." His voice was hoarse, broken beyond repair.

Ayotunde closed his eyes for a brief moment, his jaw tightening. He let out a slow breath, pushing down his grief. Now was not the time for weakness. He had seen death before, in the battlefield, but nothing could have prepared him for losing his parents like this. He clenched his fists. Whoever did this would pay.

Before he could respond, the door creaked open, and a doctor stepped in. His white coat was crisp, his face a mixture of professionalism and sympathy. He looked at the two brothers with somber eyes. "Mr. Kelsey, Mr. Ayotunde, I need to speak with both of you. Please, follow me to my office."

Kelsey wiped his face roughly, sniffing, while Ayotunde gave a firm nod. Together, they followed the doctor down the quiet hallway, their boots echoing in sync. Kelsey felt like he was walking through a nightmare, his body numb, his mind in turmoil.

Inside the doctor's office, they sat across from the physician, who folded his hands on the desk and took a deep breath before speaking. "I won’t sugarcoat it. Your parents, Mr. and Mrs. Anayo, did not survive. They were already deceased by the time they arrived at the hospital. I'm very sorry for your loss."

A sharp, painful gasp escaped Kelsey’s lips. His breath came in ragged spurts, his body trembling again. He had known, deep down, but hearing it aloud made it all the more real. His parents were truly gone. Forever. Ayotunde remained silent, his face carved from stone, but his knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of the chair.

The doctor hesitated before continuing. "Amber... she survived. But she was terribly brutalized. Her injuries suggest extreme s****l violence. She’s unconscious now, but we’re monitoring her closely. She will need time, medical care, and emotional support to recover from this."

Kelsey let out a strangled sob, his hands clawing at his face as he rocked slightly in his seat. Ayotunde inhaled deeply, his gaze darkening. The rage simmering beneath his skin was barely contained. His sister had suffered at the hands of monsters. And those monsters were still out there.

The doctor spoke again, his voice softer. "I understand this is a lot to take in, but you need to prepare yourselves for when she wakes up. She will need you both more than ever."

Ayotunde nodded sharply. "We’ll do whatever it takes."

Kelsey barely heard them. His world was spiraling, breaking into a million irreparable pieces. How could this have happened? Why them? He clenched his fists, the helplessness threatening to drown him.

Ayotunde reached over, gripping Kelsey’s shoulder firmly. "We will get through this. But we will not let this go unanswered. Whoever did this... they will pay."

Kelsey swallowed hard, his tears still falling. He had never seen Ayotunde like this before - calm, but dangerous. And for the first time that morning, beneath the crushing grief, a fire of vengeance sparked in Kelsey’s heart.