Fiction about harm about to befall a person or group and the attempts made to evade the harm
by Dexter F. I. Joseph
Isolated under the embrace of leaves and stems, a young girl lay on the floor, cuddled by the earth and as though in deep, terrifying slumber, her eyes stayed squeezed shut as was her gnashing teeth. Her clothes were worn out, shredded on various parts, and soiled with dirt. Her hair was the dome of slovenliness, long, twisted into each other and with an unusual dirty but silver colour.
Its face was hollowed, eyes large and sunken, red as the colour of blood. The skin pallid and dry, clawed and large hands and the muscles around its scrawny frame were thick and ripped on all sides.
by Orhemba Mhembeuter Jeremiah
No you’re not, silly head! The disapproval, the coarseness of the voice sent a bolt through him. His skin hardened with goosebumps. The voice was distinct, like the voice of an entity in his head. All this while he had thought the voice to be his intuition. It definitely wasn’t his inner voice speaking.
by Akuma Chidera Mba
The street swarmed with people who had come out of their houses. As I moved towards the epicenter I saw that most people were moving at a higher pace than I was. Boys my age; men who were way older; women and children had lined up by the side, too afraid to go closer. Sticks and bottles were in almost every available hand.
by Orhemba Mhembeuter Jeremiah
You inhaled deeply. Because you believe in the idea of a fated soul mate, you have scoured almost everything online about love. Each essay repeats the same thing, encourages you to get out if you truly want to find love. So here you are, like every other preceding evening, resolutely latching onto hopes that your soul mate will walk up to you—out of the blues.
by Opeyemi Ojomu
No light comes from the horizon, no shiny stars above. The world seems lifeless, like the aftermath of a nuclear war. Every creature seems to have perished except the frogs whose croaks penetrate the deep silence.
by Allen Ovanstone
His eyes were fixed on Annabelle’s pictures hanging loosely on the side wall of his rented apartment. He ran through the whole detail again and was sure he didn’t miss a thing. He had marked her out. He could have easily singled her out from the crowd, but what held him back? A premonition?
by Vivian Dindu Esimoleze
He brought out his phone. Opened his gallery and showed me the picture of the girl. I laughed it off. Bade him farewell and continued my journey. But I was restless throughout the day. The truth is I also died three years ago. But this isn’t my body. The night I died, my soul entered the girl’s body.
by Mayowa Oluwashanu
Without warning, she pulled her hands free from my grip and pushed me so hard that I landed on my backside. I saw Eri stood up, and neglecting my pain and hurt, I struggled to my feet and rushed to his side. He’d only cause more trouble for me.
by Adaobi Ezirim
“Doesn’t it feel weird? I mean, having to do that dirty thing with a man as terrible as Mr. Tom” Ngozi asked, stressing on ‘dirty thing’ to express the disgust she felt. Diana scoffed and looked away. It was better with Mr. Tom. At least she didn’t have to call him “Uncle” and bow every morning to him in obeisance after the deed as she always did with her Madam’s husband.
by Vivian Dindu Esimoleze
Then I saw him. He was standing beside the window. He was with a phone, held to his ear. I walked up to him with the little courage I had, turned him around. It was my brother. He was the caller.
by Orhemba Mhembeuter Jeremiah
Memories return to me in flashes – memories of training; memories of Zarah holding my hands affectionately and saying we would grow old together; my mother grabbing my leg in a bid to stop me from going; Aika returning home every night exhausted; Sadia weeping. Not even for Zarah – Zarah for whom I had sworn my life for.
by Sima Essien
The man who had murdered Sima was now in the parlour, his voice, deep and steely, calling out her father. Ada ran inside her father’s bedroom, reached under the bed and found the box. Blood simmered beneath her eyes. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm: fear, fear, fear.
by Oluwatoyin Adeniji
She paid more attention and yes, it moved!! She stood up watching the scariest sight she’d seen but for so much fear couldn’t run. She saw it jerked out of the canvass with its bag of heads in one hand and a sickle in the other. Just when she thought to run, it was too late.
by Vivian Dindu Esimoleze
“I happened to see his chats with his lover. Very raw and disgusting. I swear, I would definitely kill that lover of his if I set my eyes on him” she thundered.
