The Photo Album

He groaned as the noise of a building crowd drifted under the bridge where he lay asleep. The battered mat crunched beneath his shifting weight as his eyes adjusted to his environment. It was still dark but dawn wasn’t far off.

Something terrible had happened. Something tragic. He could tell by the “eyah”, “this is terrible” and “blood of Jesus” chants that were coming from the direction of the crowd. Wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, he thought as he pulled up his worn jean and fumbled around for his belt. Memories from the previous night reminded him he had traded it for a bottle of alomo. With a hiss, he folded the waist twice and slipped into his slippers.

He moved through the curious crowd, people parting for him like the biblical red sea. There she was, carefully laid out on the sidewalk like a product display. One would have thought she was simply taking a nap if her head hadn’t been twisted all the way to the back. She was dead for sure but that wasn’t what bothered the people. Right on her forehead, an inverted cross had been burned into place. What in the world?

Life on the street has taught him to be prepared for the ugly, the crazy, the odd and the unexplainable. It also taught him that there are some things best left alone. This was one of those. As he sauntered back to his spot, he noticed a phone on the ground. With a quick glance around to be sure no one was looking, he pretended to fall and slipped it under his shirt in the process. A big smile crept across his face as he walked away. His day was starting out well afterall.

---

“How much you go buy am?”

He couldn’t shake off the chill in his bones even though the sun was already high in the sky. They had been hassling over his demanded price for the past ten minutes and he was getting tired of it . He knew how cunny these computer village boys were. He knew that the duo knew the phone wasn’t previously owned by him. Which was why they were trying to cheat him out of a fair bargain.

“Oya we go give you 25k last,” the light skinned one with the fake pink lips said. “25k, ” he reiterated, looking at his partner who nodded in agreement.

His excitement at finding the phone had waned when the dead girl’s smiling face had been staring back at him from the wallpaper. It didn’t help that in his attempt to erase the phone of its content, he had come across some gruesome images. Images of dead people in similar positions she was found. They were all women. Some bodies looked more gory than the others but none as disturbing as stumbling on hers.

Did her killer take a picture, changed their mind and then ditched the phone? Was the killer one of the people in the crowd? Did she kill those people on her phone ? Is that why she was killed in similar manner? It didn’t help that for some reason, he felt like someone had been peering over his shoulders ever since he picked up the phone.

“Fine.” He grumbled as they counted the cash and gave it to him. He knew the phone was worth more than that but he was glad it was no longer in his possession. It had bad energy written all over it.

Few hours later, the phone was sold to a guy who wanted to surprise his girlfriend on her birthday the next day. The dark form that had followed the homeless guy from the bridge smiled and vanished into the phone. One by one the images of the dead women returned.

Abyzou had found her next victim.

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I’m so glad to finally break through my writer’s block after such a long time. Pheeew. This is me also wishing you guys an amazing 2021 and thank you, thank you for your constant support. You dropping by means the world to me.

If you loved this story, you’d love this one too. https://gelaxchatroom.com/friday-the-13th-scary-story-dejavu/

You can check out older stories just in case you missed them. https://yemitaiwo.com/a-blade-of-grass/

https://yemitaiwo.com/category/blog/fiction-stories/

And one more thing,…are you subscribed to my blog yet? *puppy face*