“You’re so naïve, Ifeoma,” the killer says when I stand before him. “You created me. Now you want to destroy me? Why not think about what we could achieve together?”
I grip the handle of the basket harder. “I did not create you!”
“Your potion turned me into this. You’re to blame for everything I’ve ever done.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “My potion was for a peaceful transition to life after death. You should have walked away and be reincarnated like me. Yet you stayed back.”
“To avenge your death.”
“You killed everyone involved. Why didn’t you leave?” I spit on his face. “Because you’re evil!”
He scowls. “I’ll hunt you—”
I don’t wait for him to finish. I reach inside the basket, scoop a handful of salt, and hurl it at him. He shrieks, swings his hand towards me, but the entrapment chalk stops him. I reach for the salt again, toss another handful at him.
His body drops to the ground. He curls ups, shivering and whining. Like a dog.
I empty the remaining salt on him. He stiffens. Then, from his mouth, a cloud rises, forming a vague human form above the dead body. I take out the bowl of garlic, set it on the floor. I strike a match. Light the garlic. Then retreat backwards and stand beside Shola.
She reaches for my hand, and together we watch the killer.
He floats about in his true form, seeking for an exit. But soon the smoke from the garlic wears him down; he drops to the ground and begins to fade, until he is no more. Banished from Earth forever.
Shola hugs me with a sigh, and I put my hand around her as she sobs against my back. Tears roll down my face, dropping to the sand.
Finally, this torment is over.
In silence, we hold hands and walk towards the village, alone in the dark night.
The villagers would relax now. People would come to the beach on Sundays, without the fear of being killed. My bag is packed already. I know where to go next.
Because he didn’t want me devastated, Uchenna lied to me about our parents—they had actually sustained some burns in the fire and were in the intensive care unit now.
They need my comfort in this difficult time.
And my healing hands, as well.
Footnote: This is the final episode of The Beach Man, a 400-Word Blog Series. I hope you enjoyed it. For the first episode, click HERE.
Thanks for reading! Thanks again to everyone who’s followed the series. Can I say another thanks? Well, thanks.
Okay, a special post comes up next Monday.