Flashfiction: Corna - Chapter Eight

The Experience Lagos

The crowd had united in masterful worship. It was as though nothing was more important than the beautiful spiralling tongues of people's rendition of Nathaniel Bassey's Imela, as led by the Pastor Donnie McClurkin.
          He had shortly before instructed everyone in the arena to turn on the flash lights of their phones, pointing it towards the heavens. Everyone did.

Flashfiction: Corna - Chapter Seven

Hovering over the Ilupeju militarized estate, the new home for the nation's nuclear reactors, Mohammed awaited his pass.
          The several acres of land that used to be an industrial estate occupied by private industries and government offices had now been fully retaken by the Federal Government, and used to create the continent's most sophisticated nuclear power factory and research institute, controlled directly by army hierarchy, reporting directly to the president.

Flashfiction: Corna - Chapter Six

          Col. Kola Johnson juddered where he sat. He had taken a brief nap and had relived the event at the mercy of a reverend minister in the heart of Kaura. It was as though he was in it, real-time, sweating from the intensity of a war that saw all but him pass away.
          Every doctor he met dismissed what he had seen, the mysteries and the demons that fought his forces to a standstill. They described It as symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder and placed him on intense medications. However, whether he be sleeping or he be awake, the happenings of then reincarnated in the now, purging him of peace and tranquillity. He knew he had a message to deliver. That he was reminded of every instance.

Flashfiction: Corna - Chapter Five

Crackling sounds, as though of rats' disturbance puzzled Mohammed, forcing him to tip toe, activating every single sixth sense and special power he had inherited from the Christ.
          He stepped through the ruins that was his home and started down the stairs, dashing gazes across every available inch of room space.
          There was nothing left of his home. It had been razed to the ground and solid reinforced steel melted as wax. Advancing inwards, he felt the stench of burnt human flesh consume every available oxygen. He was extra sensitive, descending into dark bunkers, ensuring that he isn't taken by surprise.

Flashfiction: Corna - Chapter Four

Stepping into the open, Mohammed could tell that a lot had changed. He was a prominent Christian leader and was well respected in settlements in and around Kaura. However, he passed invisible.
          This hospital was some five hours away from his home, but for some reason he didn't feel the need to board a vehicle, but rather to trek the entire distance. The strength of immortality waxed in him.

Flashfiction: Corna - Chapter Three

Fading away from empty void, Mohammed slowly saw light shrug his vision, blindingly. He saw himself sink into his body and his spirit compress to mortality. He rolled over on his side and shook painfully in response. He groaned.
          He had been admitted to the general hospital of the Kaura region. He was slowly gaining consciousness. The florescent flickered repeatedly. His vision dimed.
          The room was moderately dressed and occupied with a table, chair and a window that revealed the busy city.

Flashfiction: Corna - Chapter Two

In a state of unconsciousness, Mohammed struggled with his breath. He tried to scream but couldn't. He laid still, entranced, materializing in a darker realm. He watched his remains, sustained by life support.
          He was wrestling against forces both seen and unseen. Every time he tried advancing, he fell and was ran over by a stampede. He shielded with his hands but the stampede crushed against him. He felt his breath cease.
          He screamed but couldn't be heard. He was reliving the torment he had experienced in his home, re-enacting in the spirit all that occurred in the flesh.

Corna - Chapter one

Chapter One
Shattering explosions cracked the fragile night.
          It was some minutes past midnight and the only light that shone was the moon, shelved in still calm that rhymed with the whistle of gentle waves, fluttering flowers and swirling sand. The resonating calm was periodically interrupted by the croaking of frogs and the hiss of flies.
          The ambience of the moon reflected in the stream of blood that flowed across large expanse of land, burying piles of human carcases in graves of stench. It revealed a mix of brightly coloured scraps, remains of destroyed cars and homes, remains of felled trees, burnt from the strikes of missiles and mystical assault.

Flash-fiction: Vengeance

A loud bang echoed through silent night. It was as though an asteroid crashed on mortal earth. I froze, helplessly basking as I watched the evening skies with sparkling stars turn dark blue night to crescent blood. This wasn’t a dream. This was hell materializing in real time.