MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE

GUEST HOUSE IN IKORODU

The rain started just as they crossed the Third Mainland Bridge.

By the time Tunde and Kunle got to Ikorodu, the roads were swimming. Water splashed up to the doors of their old Toyota Corolla. Streetlights reflected off the potholes like broken mirrors.

“Seme Border,” Kunle muttered, replaying the 3-second video on his phone for the 10th time. “Why would Emeka post from there and delete it? He’s running.”

Tunde didn’t answer. He was thinking about the python. About how it didn’t attack randomly. It went straight for Kunle. Like it knew who to hit.

They pulled up to Royal Haven Guest House. A 3-storey building with peeling paint and a generator that coughed louder than the rain. The sign outside flickered: Twenty four hours Light. CCTV. Neat Rooms.

The receptionist was a tired woman in her 40s, chewing gum. She didn’t look up from her Nollywood movie.

“Two rooms?” Tunde asked.

“Only one left,” she said, sliding a key across the counter. “Room 14. Fifteen thousand naira. Light is on today. Generator is bad but NEPA dey try.”

Kunle paid. His hands were still shaking from Ojuelegba.

Room 14 smelled like bleach and old perfume. One bed, one small TV, one window with rusted burglar bars. On the bedside table was a black vape pen. No brand. Just plain.

“Who leaves a vape?” Kunle picked it up. “Might be Emeka’s.”

Tunde frowned. “Don’t touch that. Could be a trap.”

“Bro, we’re investigators. We investigate.” Kunle grinned weakly and put it to his lips.

Tunde grabbed his wrist. Too late.

Kunle took one long drag. Sweet. Like mango and something metallic underneath.

He coughed. Once. Twice.

Then his eyes rolled back.

“Kunle!” Tunde caught him as he fell. His brother’s body was heavy, convulsing. Foam at the corners of his mouth.

Tunde’s heart was hammering. _Follow the money. Stay calm._ That’s what Dad taught him.

He ran to the door, twisted the old-fashioned knob, and jerked hard. It didn’t budge. Locked. From the outside.

He banged. “OPEN THIS DOOR! MY BROTHER IS DYING!”

No answer. Just the rain and the generator.

He went to the window. Third floor. Fire escape outside, but the bottom ladder was missing. A 20-foot drop to wet concrete. He’d need a rope.

Tunde tore the bedsheets into strips. His hands were slick with sweat. He was knotting them when he heard it.

Click.

The door opened.

A man stepped in. Mid-40s. Buba and sokoto. Gold ring on one finger. He looked at Tunde, at the torn sheets, at Kunle foaming on the floor.

“What’s going on here?” he asked calmly.

“Quick, I need a doctor!” Tunde shouted. “He’s been poisoned!”

The man didn’t flinch. He walked to the phone on the wall and dialed. “Send Dr. Bello to Room 14. Now.”

While they waited, Tunde stared at him. “How did you get in? The door was locked.”

“The key was on the other side,” the man said. “I’m Chief Martins Adebayo. I own this place. The manager said two boys were asking about Emeka Okoro. I thought you might need help.”

The doctor arrived in 4 minutes. Old bag, tired eyes. He knelt, checked Kunle’s pulse, then pulled out a syringe and injected him in the arm.

“He’ll live,” the doctor said. “But that was a powerful poison. Batrachotoxin. You only find that in certain... traditional preparations.” He looked at the vape pen on the floor. “Someone wanted him dead.”

Chief Martins picked up the vape with a handkerchief. “This is my guest house, but I don’t put vapes in rooms.” He turned to Tunde. “You boys are in deep water. Somebody in Ikorodu doesn’t like you asking questions.”

Tunde nodded, still holding Kunle’s hand. “We need to leave here.”

“Good idea,” Martins said. “As soon as he can walk. Don’t stay in one place too long. These people... they use animals. Spirits. They sent you a message tonight with that snake. This was the next message.”

An hour later Kunle was conscious. Weak, but breathing.

“I’m... I’m a bit queasy,” he whispered.

Tunde helped him up. Outside, Chief Martins was waiting with an umbrella.

“Go to your father,” he said. “Tell Chief Adeyemi that Martins says hello. And tell him... the Okoro case is not what it seems.”

As they drove away from Royal Haven, Kunle stared out the window.

“Bro,” he said quietly. “That vape tasted like juju.”

Tunde didn’t answer. His phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

Text: Stop looking for Emeka. Or the next snake won’t miss.