Welcome to Stage Two of PROJECT PEN! 🎉🎉🎉

As we have it, this stage is the...

BATTLE STAGE✨

And we are more than excited to introduce our contestants in their pairs as follows;

  001 Ayinkus VS 030 Kayen

002 OhVeeOhh VS 027 CY

003 YourCrypticGrey VS 026 JanetheVirgin

004 JagunJagun VS 023 FayWrites

005 AB Cleo VS 024 Girlinluv

006 Lucifer's Baby VS 021 Netsuke Writes

007 DD Marx VS 022 VinylWriter

008 S.A Writer VS 020 TemiCreates

009 ThePurpleWriter VS 019 Black Rose

010 Fiyinfoluwa VS 018 The wordsmith

011 Akira_16  VS   015 Zirachi

013 Orianna VS 014 PAM

Without much further Ado, we will get into their works and have a look at the Judges Reviews!✨

•001 Ayinkus VS 030 Kayen

AYINKUS 001

Wedding of the year.

Everywhere was chaotic.

The banquet hall was nothing to write home about as ribbons littered the marbled floor, inflated balloons were hung carelessly, purple and silver drapes dangled overhead, the wedding banner was lopsided and even the chairs were mismatched.

Nothing seemed right!

"No, not there!" Jennifer yelled, nearly twisting her heels as she left Doyin- the bride, rushing to direct where the red velvet, four-layer cake would be kept.

Checking the time once again, Doyin felt her eyes moisten as she sniffed, trying to control her tears.

Dotun and his people were yet to arrive. For goodness sake, what kind of a groom was he?!

She felt her heart clench and unclench. The speech Bella had given her to calm her nerves, wasn't walking. This was nothing like the gilt-edged wedding she had always fantasized about.

Almost every one of the guests had already started muttering contemptuous words and shaking their heads in disapproval. And from her peripheral vision, Doyin could sight her aunts that had arrived not too long ago, whispering amongst themselves with scornful looks etched on their faces.

Suddenly, Doyin felt like she was choking. Like she was breathing in pins and walking on eggshells. Her sleeveless fit-to-flare, matte wedding gown that had a v neckline on the front and scoop neckline, on the back; suddenly felt tight. She felt like she would burst anytime and her gown would be reduced to shreds.

God! What was going on today?
She looked around for Jennifer but she was nowhere in sight. Her head began to throb with unbearable pain. Where was she? She always made this bearable.

The band of symphony orchestra kept practicing their instruments as the clashing of cymbals, and stentorian sound of the trumpet resounded throughout the banquet hall.

Playing tag with the flower girl, the ring bearer giggled as the clatters of their tiny heels echoed, getting on her nerves.

Trying her best not to pass out where she stood, Doyin couldn't help but get irritated at how much of a mess her wedding had turned into. Worse, her best friends weren't by her side through this.

The now loud voices of the guests, the accompanying nerve-wracking laughter that followed suit, and all that swirled through her mind, were too much for her to contain.

Using her fingers to cover her ears, she screamed out her lungs."Shut up!"
Her chest was heaving, her stomach moving in rhythm with it. She could feel the seams of her gown rip apart at the sides, and more tears sprang up to her eyes.

"Just shut the hell...up." She finished off in a faint voice, her hands moving down to her face to ferociously wipe the tears that rolled down.

Yanking her veil off her head, she tossed it away and tried steadying her pounding heart." Fuck this!" She yelled, causing people to gasp in perplexity.

Every single gaze was fixed on her. The priest who stood on the platform froze in shock. As his long, thin fingers gripped the Bible as a form of shield.

Breathing heavily, she looked up at the priest. Then, around the banquet hall.

Everything was... surprisingly in place.

String lights hung behind the bunched dark red tulle, across the walls. Fanciful ribbons were all over the hall, inflated balloons had been placed at strategic places while the purple and silver drapes flowed elegantly from their position, over the square columns of the high windows.
The ring bearer was in front of the alter presenting the black square box to the priest, instead of the couple. And the flower girl was a few meters away, hand quivering and shock evident on her face.

She scanned her wedding gown, her hands moving to the places where she had felt it ripping. Nothing. It was still perfectly held together.
Doyin narrowed her eyes in disconcertion.

She could clearly see Dotun's family members which consisted of senators and SANs, who had cleared up their tight schedule just to be here, today.
Not believing her eyes, she lifted her gaze to the banner that hung perfectly above the entrance. The phrase; Dotun weds Doyin boldly imprinted in Italics on it.

Her heart thumped heavily as her gaze slid to her side. In all his handsome glory, standing ramrod straight was the love of her life, Dotun Adegbite.

When had he arrived?

He looked so breathtaking. No matter how many times she had seen this man, she could never get used to his elegance and graceful aura. But what flashed in his eyes, sent her heart ripping.

Just like everyone present in the hall, Dotun had a befuddled expression on his face, his dark eyes roaming over her as if a monkey had taken the place of his to-be wife.

She stretched her hands towards him and he flinched. Something twisted inside of her.

Suddenly, the guests began murmuring, their words piercing her in ways she didn't fathom.

"She just can't be okay. How can she scream like that and suddenly start acting lost?"

"This crap can't be spared."

"How come everyone is so collected when she used the F word in the church? How is she even at peace with herself?!"

"Hypocritic pastor's daughter."

Doyin's breath hitched and her fingers began trembling beside her. She was close to having tremors as her mind was a big mess, ruled by a myriad of emotions. She could swear that it was just seconds ago when she had nearly passed out from the level of disorderliness in the banquet hall.

As she stood, she could feel the intense stare of her stern-faced mother, from her peripheral vision. It burned the sides of her face, increasing the velocity with which her heart pounded against her ribcage.

She didn't know why, but she knew she had disappointed her mother.
Years of hiding, subduing her with drugs, and pushing relentlessly had turned into this. Into her unleashing her Achilles heel, her schizophrenic self to the world.

How? She could have sworn she took her pills this morning. Jennifer had given them to her when she had an episode. A nerve-wracking sensation jolted up her spine as scales fell from her eyes.

"Doyin," She heard the familiar cool voice of Jennifer and tilted her head to gaze at her. Her face was morphed into concern. She could never be able to read those dark eyes."Are you okay?"

Tears welled up in Doyin's eyes.

"What have you done... to me?"She whispered.

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

Punctuations, tenses, grammar, and storyline were all on point. I'm intrigued but I didn't exactly feel the cliffhanger.

JUDGE PURPLE

Wow, this was beautiful. I was gripped from the very beginning. I felt every emotion. I wanted to know more. You executed the theme properly. But you know this is the battle stage. Your story has to be compared with that of your opponent, to get you into the green or red line. Being in the red line doesn't mean you did bad, it only means your opponent had an edge over you. That said, I enjoyed your piece.

JUDGE SILVER

Okay your descriptions were solid and so was your characterization. Just from the short piece, I could gather a good amount of information about her. The ending was good, though there was a way you could have made it better, it was good nevertheless. It would have me flipping pages to see what happens next.

Unfortunately, 030 got disqualified, so that means an automatic green line card for 001 Ayinkus. Congratulations!✨

***

•002 OHVEEOHH VS 027 CY

002 OHHVEEOHH

‘There is a man called Ancient.’

My hold on the black diary slackens and my knees give way for me to drop to the dusty road. The back of my head pounds gravely, and my eyes are robbed of their vision by saline liquid. With blurred orbs, I look at the words writing themselves in the diary.

‘You'll be discouraged, but you'll stand and ask for him. And when you do, the villagers will keep saying the same spooky thing.’

The words go on and on to write themselves but I bow my head to the earth and a scream of agony emanates from me with my body trembling. When did I get to this? I have lived my life like every normal human until yesterday when I turned twenty.

Yesterday marked the beginning of my fated doom unbeknownst to me. The day started with my waking up at midnight to find a strange timer cuffed on my wrist and a black diary beside me. Suddenly, a force encompassed me while I still laid on my bed and a rushing wind infested my being resurrecting a hunger for my quest.

I began to see shadows on my walls. It was uncanny because there's no shadow casted without light, and my room was eerily dark. However, I could see those shadows all over my walls, and they were wailing women. They called out to me, and against my volition, I listened to them as they said same thing.

‘Arise and break the curse, Enugwu.’

The words shook the bridge of my soul and without temptation, I peered at the shadows to recognize something deadly.

They all looked like me! Then they said ‘The diary will guide you’ before vanishing like they were never there. It was when I was left alone that a portal was opened inside of me, stripping me of my youth, and I felt older than twenty. Then did I know that I have been alive for years longer than twenty— my age was a deception.

As though to buttress on my feelings, the diary arose to me with the worn-out pages flipping rapidly till it all settled down. I stared at the date and time of the page. They were dated centuries ago but as I read the handwritings on it, I could recall when I wrote them.

But was it really me?

The experience was familiar to me, but how come? I spent the entire night reading about my past life. And just when I got to the most recent page, something stirred inside of me, and I knew I was running out of time.

All misconstrued contemplations as to whether I wrote the diary or not were cleared up when I saw the words writing themselves. But I was not surprised. It was as though it was absolutely normal. Then the words wrote:

‘Before the next Orie, break the curse.’

I looked at my timer, out of the forty-eight hours I had to carry out the task, six had gone by. Before the first twenty-four hours elapsed, the diary directed me to my village in the east.

“Who do you seek?” A faint voice pierces through my reverie and I look up to behold a young frail. She is coal skinned, and her eyes glimmer like the surface of the moon. She is clad in a wrapper tied around her body and a woven basket hangs askew on her braided hair.

My eyes dart around to see dusk fast approaching whilst the villagers hurry along the road to their destinations. Save for them, the entire area is bare of life— it is as dead as a desert. And the air is bleached of clean oxygen.

How long have I been kneeling?

I get on my feet, and look at the girl who is patient with me. “I seek the one called Ancient.” I take a sniff as I wipe my eyes. With hope overtaking me, I ask, “Where do I find him?”

The girl appears taken aback. “No one ever comes looking. But by your desperation, run northwards, he will meet you.”

I am about to ask her how to locate the cardinal point when she whisks away from me. In befuddlement, I ask a few others, and the answers are indeed the same.

My fear transcends when I become at loss of which way to go. My eyes are cloudy again, and my pulse quickens. I glance at my timer — six more hours to my demise. I almost breakdown, but I'm drawn to the diary in my hands. It says:

‘The right way to go is an enigma. So, wherever you stand, run forward. And by your desperation–’

I don't wait to finish the words being scribbled when I begin to run ahead and right into the deep forest ahead of me. Twigs mock me and the cooing of birds escort me through the dark. The further I run, the voider the space is. I don't know how long I run but my feet halts abruptly when I meet a troubled river. The river bubbles like it's being boiled, and upon the face of the waters, a mist curtains it.

A turmoil of thoughts clip my mind, and I swallow a valley. Is this really the end of it for me?

“At last, you came. I have waited eternity.” The earth quakes beneath me as a voice older than history rattles my brain, making my follicles stand.

I whip my head to see where it came from but I'm all alone. Am I dreaming? My heart beats thunderously with skips as I keep looking. When frustration gets the best of me, I look at the diary.

‘He will come with the voice of the wind to you. But he will deny whatever you say.’

My brows are drawn into confusion until I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn speedily to be met with an old face in the wind. Moustache covers almost the entirety of his face and his eyes swirl like the furnace in hell. I can barely make out his complexion.

“Does your diary not say to bow, you rebel?” He speaks in my head again, and suddenly, a force pushes my knees to the ground. “Why have you come?”

“Please, break my curse, Ancient,” I whisper.

He moves round about me. “I don't know what you are saying.”

“Ancient!” I yell unknowingly as tears cascade down my face. “Please, I beg of you, I will die in the next few hours if you don't help me. The diary led me to you.” So as to not rile him up, I kiss the ground, surrending to him.

Then he does the unexpected—he laughs. “Same old story everytime. Will your diary help you now? It didn't the last time,” he mocks. I slowly look up at him in confusion. “What is the key to break your curse? It's always new with each reincarnation.”

I lick my chapped lips, and pick the diary up. I look at it but what I see is:

‘The key is...’

The words have ceased.

“Ancient,” I cry. “It's stopped. The diary says nothing. Why?”

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

Wow! That's all I can say. I'm in complete awe of how creative you are. Your story completely gripped my attention and everything was on point. You did justice to the theme too and I'm so curious to know what will happen next.

JUDGE WHITE

You have an amazing story telling skill. I like how descriptive you are and how well you can use your punctuations. The cliffhanger was good. It didn't hit me well, but it was good because I still have question. I'm actually very curious to know if she died like her past lives or she finally got the key to her freedom. The build up was just not that... effective. Good story though.

JUDGE ORANGE

This work seemed rushed to me. I don't understand why that must have been the case, but judging through what I know the writer can do, something about this seemed off. I hope all is well.

JUDGE SILVER

Your punctuation was on point, and how you effortlessly projected the world was very impressive. The character's frustration and confusion were very clear. And of course that cliffhanger, I won't say it's the best but it was a nice one. There are a lot of questions that ending brought up and a lot of routes it can take. I like it, good job.

VS,

027 CY

THE DOOR...

Sluggishly dragging her feet against the ground, eyes downcasted the floor, half-sighted Oreva walks right into an undeserving passerby. Regaining full consciousness of what had occured, Oreva looked up, she had cluelessly  run into an old woman and sent her " bacco " bag full of groceries to the floor.

"Ewe! I am so sorry ma, " Oreva apologised shabbishly. She quickly stooped down to pick up the bag and the items scattered on  the ground.Clutching tightly to the handle of the bag,she slowly stood up. The old woman was a sight for sore eyes, the creepy look on her wrinkled face started Oreva. Her wrinkled, pasty face drew up a frown. Oreva feared that any moment from now, the old woman would start a tantrum. Surprisingly, this old lady didn't, she seized the bag from Oreva's hands.

" My daughter, it is okay, " the old lady proclaimed sweetly.  she slowly played a smile on her dry, slim lips, defining the creased lines on her face.
Oreva was amazed by the old lady's calmness. She was swimming in that big scraggy blue faded dress. Standing before Oreva was a little, hunchbacked old  lady whose pale fair skin looked like melting plastic. Oreva's eyes closed up on the old lady's lanky fingers grasping the bag. Her nails were varnished a brilliant shade of red. It was quite weird to see someone sporting nail polish fully clothed in rags.

Oreva was about to disappear before she got anymore caught up with this strange lady but it was way too late now, the old lady got a hold of Oreva's wrist. Oreva looked down at her, she wore a twisted smile. What did she want? Oreva crossed her face.

" Please help me carry my load? I have— " the old lady was rudely interrupted by Oreva.

"Ah! No-oh! , " Oreva blurted out a bit brusque.

The old lady turned up an angry frown. Was Oreva really going to be disrespectful to this woman after she had pardoned her for falling her groceries? Oreva glanced at both sides of the road nervously. Her gut wasn't just in sync with this lady.

Oreva had this motto 'Give and take' and she was going to stand by it. She took the ' Bacco ' bags from the old lady.

" My daughter, thank you o. I have been trekking since, I am tired. Doh my dear, my house is closeby. " The old lady finally shut up and leading the way to her house while Oreva lingered behind. The bags were heavy and so were Oreva's instincts.

Oreva and the old lady finally arrived at their destination, a shadowy thatched cottage with closed sash windows at each end complimenting its worn out wooden door . Oreva never knew houses like this still existed. It wasn't hard to believe though, houses in this neighborhood weren't much. The old lady's house was located in a quiet, deserted environment.

The old lady unlocked the door with her keys.. Stepping aside she ushered Oreva in.  Oreva entered the  dark room which she assumed was the living room and dropped the bag of groceries against a corner. The room was dark, the only faint daylight that seeped into it came through the open door.

Oreva couldn't see but all other senses were heightened. Her ears stood when she heard that door slam behind her. Complete darkness prevailed  the room. She grew scared. What was going on? She swiftly headed for the way to the door but 'Thump' a feeble bony body crashed into hers. It was the old lady.

" I need to go, excuse me. "  This time Oreva didn't care if she was rude, all she wanted to do was to get away from this old lady. Oreva stood firm though she was cringing within.

'Gbam' something heavy landed on her head that sent her hurling to the floor. Her limbs grew numb but her senses were still active. A revolting headache stagnated her thoughts.
Later, Oreva awakened on a chair, in front of her , a round table on it lay a bowl of pap and a glass of water.

Illuminating the new room,  Oreva woke up in was a blinking light bulb barely hanging from the ceiling.

Oreva finally came back to her senses that she was still trapped when she saw the door open and the old lady walked in. Stunned by this sight before her, the woman wasn't bent anymore, she stood straight, shoulders squared. The old lady cleaned her face with a rag. Her true self finally revealed. She had been wearing makeup. This woman was no old lady but a young lady with a face as fresh as a baby buttocks. Her curves were well defined even in that old rag she had on. She was faking this whole time.

Oreva was mad and disappointed in herself for being ensnared by this faker. She tried to stand up, but was pulled back ino the chair. Oreva craned her neck to look behind the chair. Her hands had been tied with copper wire. Oreva shook violently in the chair, hoping to free herself but to no avail.

The woman walked up to Oreva and said in a youthful and silvery tone," oya, start to chop this food now. "
" How can I eat, my hands are tied? " The nerves of Oreva was shocking. She glowered at the woman, before her head was forcefully shoved into the bowl of pap. The woman yanked on Oreva's hair, pulling her away from the bowl. Her face was plastered with pap. Oreva was taken back with convulsing gasps.

The woman let go of Oreva's hair. She rushed out of the room, through the ajar door, into that dark room. Oreva's ears stood active, she could hear sound of footsteps . Then the jiggling of keys in the key hole, following it was the creaking sound of the door being opened then the last Oreva heard was the door closing. All Oreva knew was that there was one way out and it was through that door.

" The door, " Oreva dragged her words, her voice was wavering,she felt dizzy. It was the pap, something was inside the pap. " The door. "

°^°^°^°^°^°^°^°^°^

Oreva opened her eyes. She had fallen asleep. There was no time to rest, she needed to get out of this place. She squirmed in the chair, and to her surprise, her hands were no longer tied. Oreva didn't bother to wonder why. She stood up staggering out of the room, unto the dark room. She swiftly walked to the end , the room like a pro, she stretched out her hand to get a hold of the door handle. But what was this? All she could feel was the cold, rough surface. Where was the door?

The lights were turned on and Oreva saw herself facing a dead end. There was no door. She swirled around, her eyes jammed the numbers of naked girls that were arranged on the floor with two hefty men guarding them. The girls looked tired and drained of colour. Oreva's attention was called over by the disembodied voice she heard. It was a man, a dark skinned man with dreadlocks and long beards. Standing by his side was the woman who acted as the old lady, popping gum in her mouth. The man was saying something.

What was this place? These people were traffickers. Oreva didn't think about any of these, the fact that her life was over. When she saw the door, behind the talking man and that woman, she saw a glimmer of hope.

" The Door."

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE WHITE

You also have a good Story with a very good cliffhanger. Did Oreva get out? Did she not? I'm curious to know. I also like the hint of plot twist, where the old woman wasn't who we all thought she was. The only I think I have with your entry was the misuse of a few Punctuations and a little grammar error. It was probably an oversight from you because they were very few, almost unnoticeable.

"Ah! No-oh!,"

The comma after the exclamation mark and the hyphen between No and Oh shouldn't have been there. Also, you were starting a few new sentences with small letter instead of capital. Please ensure to always go through your work before submitting it.

Other than this few mistakes, your work was really good and you executed the theme very well.

JUDGE ORANGE

The thing with cliffhangers is that you are meant to build up fear, tension and make us wonder what is going on (but not in a way that we don't get the story, but in a way that we sense that things are going very haywire, and it's scary for us).

Then, when you have pulled us to the edge and we are shaking, our eyes wide as saucers and hearts beating uncontrollably, you leave us in the air.

That's why it's called a Cliff hanger.

This story would have been perfect. Too much details ruined it. When she was kidnapped, the writer could have just made us point out how everything was wrong; we didn't need to be told they were traffickers.

Effective descriptions would have created vivid imagery and our fear in our hearts. It would have been better if the writer explained everything: from how the old woman took off her makeup, to the big men, to the naked girls instead of telling us that the people holding her captive were traffickers. Leave is to wonder what the fuck is going on, you grab? Then, end it when our hearts are literally hanging in the air.

This writer is very creative and imaginative. I like that. Asides what I just pointed out AND the fact that some punctuations were off, it was a good story. It was interesting. I was reading from start to finish and wanted to see the end of it. Good job! Please go through the punctuation lecture again. Your punctuations were better than the last stage. But you still put some commas where periods were meant to be. Work on that too. You're one of my favorite writers, CY. I hope to see you make it to the next stage and grow as a writer.

JUDGE GOLD

In the beginning, your punctuations were all over the place, you missed some commas and full stops, and left spaces after or before apostrophes when they weren't needed but you redeemed yourself towards the end so I'm guessing it's probably because you did a rushed work.

Also, what's "How I can eat, my hands are tied?" I understand that you're trying to ask a question but please, you could have worded it better.
Overall, you were able to implement the prompt so I'm okay with your story.

***

•003 YOURCRYPTIC GREY VS 026 JANETHEVIRGIN

003 YOURCRYPTICGREY

It's happened again.

It had happened again and just like all the other times, she couldn't remember it happening.

She had no memory whatsoever of the previous night. She'd gone into her room by 9pm, slept, and that was all. She couldn't remember anything after that.

But something had happened. And she had no idea what it was.

Well, she did have an idea. The faded red finger-shaped marks on the inside of her thighs were enough to clue her in on the activities of last night. The only issue was that she couldn't remember actively participating in it. In fact, she couldn't remember it happening, period.

The first time it had happened was when she was 14. She'd been in SSS1 then and when she'd woken up to see the blood stains on her thighs and sheets, she'd initially thought it was her period, but then her period had only ended a few days ago and it didn't quite make sense.

But then she'd tried to stand and she'd crumpled to the ground from the sheer pain she'd felt between her legs.

That was when she'd known that it wasn't her period.

She'd been raped.

Brutally from the looks of it, and what had terrified her more wasn't the fact that she'd been raped, no. What terrified her more was the fact that she'd been unable to remember it happening.

Destiny was turning 18 in a few weeks, and  she was still being raped. Frankly, she was tired of this happening and it needed to stop.

When it first happened, she'd not been able to tell anyone about it. She didn't find the courage to, until last year when she'd told her mother and in her mother's typical nonchalant manner towards everything, she'd brushed it off, telling Destiny that she had an overreactive imagination.

Honestly, her mother's response hadn't surprised her in the least. She'd known that she was going to get a similar reply and that was why she'd held off on telling her mother for so long.

Destiny had lived with it, putting up with being raped almost every week, unable to do a damn thing about it but have her bath and stare at the marks, hoping that they would go away quicker so that she wouldn't have to face her horrible reality.

But she was going to be an adult soon, and this couldn't keep going on.

She had to put a stop to this somehow.

She'd considered moving out of the house before, but then again, she wasn't old enough to and she didn't really have the funds for it.

Sliding her legs over the side of the bed, she stood, flinching slightly at the all-too-familiar pain and limping towards her bathroom. When she got in, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, took in her flawless light skin, high cheekbones, and her beautiful face.

Apart from the haunted look in her eyes, no one would ever guess that something had happened to her.

No one would ever know what she was going through.

She went through her morning routine swiftly and with one last look at the marks on her legs, Destiny draped a long robe over her body and walked out of her room.

The house had cameras, and several times, she'd considered going to watch them just to know who the rapist was, but she'd chickened out each time, too scared to check.

There were so many what-ifs.

What if the cameras didn't capture the person?

What if the cameras did and she found out who the person was?

What then?

Was not knowing the rapist not better than knowing who the rapist was and not being able to do anything about it?

Those were the things that had been holding Destiny back all this while. Along with an overwhelming feeling of fear. She was just too scared to put a face to her tormentor. To  know the face behind the marks on her thighs.

But she was fed up.

She was tired of going to sleep scared every night, wondering if she would be raped again. She was tired of waking up in the morning and seeing those marks on her body.

She was tired of accepting that a rapist had stolen her virginity.

She stepped into the room where the laptop sat on the table and froze. She tried to make herself move, to walk over to the laptop and turn it on, but her feet just wouldn't move.

God, what was wrong with her?

Why was she so scared to find out who the rapist was?

Maybe because she knew that it had to be someone who lived in this house with her. No outsider could have access to a house with such good security constantly and not be caught.

Perhaps she knew it was someone she'd seen before, and that was why she was so hesitant to watch the video.

Steeling her spine, she marched over to the laptop and took it back to the recording of last night.

There, on the screen, was a sleeping Destiny.

When she stared at the image on the screen continuously for straight ten minutes and nothing had happened, she fast forwarded it and stopped abruptly when she caught movement on the screen, but the movement hadn't been from her.

Her heart slamming against her ribcage, she watched the screen, her eyes glued to it.

She watched with bated breath as a familiar figure walked into the line of sight of the camera and dragged the sheets off Destiny's sleeping form.

Her mouth hung open and a chill ran down her spine as the figure climbed onto the bed and went to work on taking his pants off.

That was the most she could take.

With shaking hands, she closed the footage and backed away from the laptop, her leg hanging midair when she heard the door to the room creak open.

She heard one quiet step that told her that someone had stepped into the room. Her muscles locked and a chill settled over her. It was like no matter how hard she tried to force herself, she couldn't move. She struggled to breathe, her chest flying up and down with her shallow breaths and yet she couldn't get enough air.

A quiet whimper escaped her.

Somehow, she knew who would be standing there if she turned around. And that terrified the hell out of her.

She couldn't believe that all this while, the culprit had been living in the same house with her, eating the same meals with her and treating her like a loved one.

She didn't know that the culprit was someone she smiled at almost every single day.

With a tremble running through her body, she turned slowly, and came face to face with the rapist.

Her step-brother.

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

You have an absolutely brilliant story. I was completely awed and I was at the edge of my seat but what was that ending? Do you know what a cliffhanger is? I doubt that because if you knew what a cliffhanger is, you'd never have included the last three words of your story. What are we supposed to be insanely curious about when you already revealed the rapist? What? It's sad but those last three words ruined your story.

JUDGE WHITE

I'm not supposed to say this because of professionalism, but... babe why? I almost cried after finishing your entry because I was pained on your behalf. Why? Because you had me. You had all of me, my body soul and spirit, then you lost me. In fact, you misplaced me and I need to be found.
You are an amazing writer, a badass one and your story would have been a 100% solid if you hadn't defeated the whole purpose if a cliffhanger when you told us who her rapist was. Those three words that ended your story just mellowed the entire work.

Besides, you could executed the entire thing better by subtly introducing every one around her and not just her mum because her having a step brother came out of nowhere. If you had introduced her step dad, her step brother, the gate man, the driver, even a help, we'd have been so curious to know which one of them was the rapist. And if you had ended it without telling us who the rapist was, that would have been a perfect cliffhanger because we'd have so many questions.

You had a good story for Cliffhanger, you are an amazing writer like I have said, but you made a mistake.

JUDGE ORANGE

Something tells me you all were a bit too relaxed in this stage. It was a nice story. The descriptions were on point, but the cliffhanger effect was not strong. Like I said before, I hope all is well.

JUDGE PURPLE

You were doing great until those last words spoilt it. The theme was cliffhanger, you were on point until you just had to destroy the efforts you made.

VS,

026 JaneTheVirgin

Tomi POV

I walk through the front door feeling depleted. My muscles and joints feel like boiled noodles. Slowly, l make my way to the couch and collapse with an exhale. I wonder if my exhaustion is a result of office work or from the one-too-many cups of caffeine I had this morning while coming up with a plan.

It takes me a few seconds to acknowledge my surrounding. The table is out of place and there are magazines on the floor, evidence of being tossed from their original position. The table.

"Honeycomb..." I sing as I realise she has not presented herself since I walked through the door some seconds ago.

The house feels empty. My sister is also absent. My nose wrinkles in thought "Maybe she left for the market,"

"But my honeycomb should be home," I murmur with certainty and lift myself off the couch making my way to our room.

"Honeycomb, are you taking a bath? Your Baby boy is home." I chant as I push the door to the room open.

She likes when I tease her.

My gaze first lands on our bed. There is a clump of clothes covering the left side of the bed. The cupboard is open. Some of my shirts are on the floor, some hanging on the ledge of the hangers.

I walk to the bathroom and jerk the doorknob open. It's empty.

I walk back to the bedside table and drop my bag, taking an upright position on the bed and commence unwinding my shoelace. On the second foot, the bundle of keys on my chest pocket falls, skipping under the desk. My eyes land on the keys, next to a paper on the floor. I pick both.

Assuming the note is one of Benedict's "shower" lyrics about me. I flip it over, my lips broaden in a smile as I feel the urge to read it.

~~~~~~~

Benedict POV

"Tomi, my loves,"

I scribble with much haste that the "e" in love ends with an "s". My palms are moist. I find it difficult to breathe as my muscles feel tense. My heart is pounding a thousand times per second.

"Chisom is at the hospital right now as I write this letter to you. She fell from the steps leading to her room. I was making breakfast when I heard a loud cry from across the hallway. I quickly dropped the knife and ran to the sound. I met Chisom on the floor, both hands over her head trying to stop thick red ink from flowing out. She was shaking so bad I feared she was having a convulsion.
I ran quickly to the floor and carried her to myself, asking what happened. She kept pointing up the stairs, but it was crystal. I am sure she was experiencing hallucinations due to the burst on her head"

I clean my eyes with the back of my hand as the tears won't stop spurting. My head is hurting bad and I feel dizzy. I take a few breaths and return to the letter.

"So, I rushed her to Calgary Flames Hospital. Chisom is in room 003. I have been trying your cell but your phone seems to be on flight mode or maybe switched off. I need you right now Tomi, am scared. I need you to know what happened. I hope this letter conveys my message. I am scared for my life, Tomi.

Remember last week, when I told you about what Chisom said, about how she saw a shadow leaving our room with a black folder? It was dark and she thought maybe it was her imagination, at least that’s what I thought when she spoke to me about her findings.  That black folder holds our bank account details and assets we own. I checked our cupboard the next morning and the folder was right there.

I drop the pen on the desk and run to the cupboard. I go through, searching for the black folder. No luck. I run back to the desk and snatch the pen again.

"I can't find the folder, Tomi. I don't know if you took it to work this morning or not-

Tomi, Chisom was under oxygen when I left for her drugs. When I walked into her room after getting the drugs, a figure stood beside her bed backing me. This person was dressed in an all-black two-piece, holding a pillow against our daughter's head. It was a woman. She was trying to kill our daughter. My eyes flew wide and I screamed. She drop the pillow and turned in my direction.

An audible crash slams the main door and I squeak. I run to the bedroom door with shaking hands, I lock it from inside and sprint back to the letter on the desk.

"I had never seen her like that. The familiar sweet smile was gone. Her eyes held death with no sign of remorse, she had her favourite pink coloured lip gloss on. She pulled out a knife from her back pocket marching toward me. It happened so fast. I wanted to stand up for our daughter. I wanted to fight, but my feet developed a mind of their own and I flee out of the room screaming for help. Nurses rushed passed me into Chisom's room.

I rushed out the hospital for the house immediately, in hopes I would see you but you are still at work."

My grip on the pen is now shaky as the sounds from the main door become insistent. I can barely think straight with the ear-splitting sound. It feels like the front door is being smashed by a bulldozer or by two men.

I flip the paper to the next page with sweaty hands.

"Tomi, She is here. She is out our front door trying to break in. Your sister is trying to kill me. I have concluded that maybe she stole the black folder this morning. Maybe she pushed Chisom down the steps and wanted to finish the job at the hospital. I don't know what to think. I am losing my mind. They are banging on our room door. She is here. She wants to kill me too. Tomi, I am scared. I Lo."

~~~~~~

Temi POV

"No! It can't end here!" I cry and drop to the floor on my knees in search of a second letter. There is none.

I wrap my arms around myself, rocking from side to side. My lungs feel clogged together. I try to breathe with my mouth and nostrils at the same time. My fingers feel numb and I let the letter slip through. My heart is pounding so hard that I feel like I could have a heart attack.

I hear the front door click and my feet move towards the sound. I am met with my light skin sister, Ziora, wearing a two-piece all-black outfit and her signature lip gloss plastered on her lips.

She gives me the brightest smile I have ever seen on her as she walks to the side table and drops the black folder. She turns and faces me, still keeping her sweet smile and says

"You can stop the fake tears now, baby" she breaths out.

I release an audible sigh. I feel like a huge bag has been lifted off my shoulders, like a balloon ready to take flight or a bird set free.

She runs to me with open arms and l reciprocate her hug with a chuckle, my chest rumble as I laugh. We pull apart. I trace the loose curls of her hair to the back of her ears and fix my gaze on her eyes, searching for any form of remorse. I see none. She looks thrilled.

"Is she gone?" I whisper, even though I know the answer to my question. With that same teasing smile, she responds.

"Yes-"

I pull her into a deep kiss, swallowing her words. Sucking all the victory from her soul into mine. Feeling the victory run in my bones and all our future plans together. In that moment of pure bliss and euphoria, I hear a voice covered in confusion and shock.

"Daddy!"

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

I like the story flow and I love how you were able to tell so much with limited words.

JUDGE WHITE

Your story was actually good. It had a mixture of plot twist and cliffhanger at the end. I didn't see the betrayal coming aile away. In fact, I have so many questions. What did Benedict do to deserve such a backstab from Temi? Is Temi having an illicit relationship with his sister? So his daughter isn't actually dead? What will happen next? That's the whole point of a cliffhanger, leaving your readers asking all the right questions and you did that pretty well.

Though I still have issues with the entry. The switch from Temi's POV to Benedicts was unnecessary for me. I feel you could have executed everything without switching POVs. Also, the letter. Hmmn, that letter. It was pretty long and detailed for someone running away from her killer, don't you think? It sorta rubbed off on me in an unrealistic way.
I mean, she described the dress of her killer so well, even all the way to the pink lipstick... in writing. I don't think anyone can write that much when under so much tension, not to talk of a death threat. It would have been a lot better a phone call, or several recorded messages. That would have hit perfectly.

So far so good, sha. Asides all of that, you work seemed pretty okay. A little messy, but okay. Good Job.

JUDGE PURPLE

You jumped from pillar to post, honestly. The beginning was engaging, suddenly everything got messed up. The theme wasn't executed properly.

***

• 004 JAGUNJAGUN VS 023 FAYWRITES

Pen name: Jagunjagun
Serial number: 004
Prompt: Cliffhanger

Ojuju.

The moon was suddenly the colour of blood, casting a hue of red rays on the pavement you were running on. The dark shadows lurking around reminded you of what you had just done.

They say curiosity killed the cat, and you were hoping that yours wouldn't kill you.

You had found a piece of paper on the floor of your mother's library. Something was scribbled on it in Latin, but somehow, you understood it; it was a spell to summon Ojuju.

And like the inquisitive sorcerer that you were, you went ahead to lock yourself in your room to perform the blood magic ritual; Ojuju's portal had appeared in your room. You knew because only his portal could show one their reflection; you were observing your own face on Ojuju's portal.

For a scary moment, nothing happened. But then, your image on the portal began to distort, and a creature—about three metres tall, and cladded in a hooded, black cloak—jumped into your realm from the other side.

You did not know how you got there, but you were hurdled at the corner of your room, your fingers shivering and your heart racing; beads of sweat were beginning to form on your forehead.

Amidst your fright, curiosity compelled you to ask the monster observing you, "Se Ojuju ni yin?"

[Are you Ojuju?]

You could not see his face, all you could make out were two dim, red lights where his eyes were supposed to be, underneath his hood.

He took two steps toward you, and you scurried backwards only to realize that your back was already flat against the wall. Within you, you prayed to Oxosi, promising that you wouldn't do any dangerous ritual again if you survived this one.

You could not see it, but you felt it, that sly smile that crept up Ojuju's face. And weirdly enough, you knew the reason: someone had to replace him on the other side of that portal, and it was going to be you.

He took two more dangerous steps toward you, and—if that was even possible—you leaned into the wall even more. Perhaps, it was the heat of the moment, or the crippling fear in your chest, you didn't know; but you screamed a spell,

"Oya, je ki n pare!"

And you found yourself in the street that was red from the moon's crimson beams. Of course, you didn't need a seer to tell you to break into a sprint. And as you ran, you kept on sending prayers to Oxosi within you.

But maybe your god was not ready to answer you, or he was just going to let you suffer the consequences of your stupidity, or he had just simply forgotten about you. You couldn't pick a reason why despite your fervent internal prayers, Ojuju was already catching up with you.

The lampposts transformed into huge masquerade trees, and fire hydrants into shrubs, even the cemented pavement you were running on was now a path of clay soil. You were now under Ojuju's reality-bending spell.

You tried hard to hope, but with every passing second, it was getting more obvious that you were done for. You were beginning to lose breath, your lungs ached for oxygen.

Now, it was very clear that Oxosi had abandoned you to your fate, because you lost your footing and crashed to the ground with a loud yelp. Desperate to survive, you began to crawl, the sharp pain in your ankle did not let you resume your sprint.

But the world spinned, and you were suddenly hurling through the air as the cool, night breeze violently kissed your skin. For a moment, you thought you had somehow crossed to Alaafia, but you rammed into a tree trunk and stars began to dance in your vision; so, maybe it was Apadi, the land of those that died in sorrow and pain.

The coppery taste of blood stung your mouth, and bile rose to your throat as you sighted his tall frame through your hazy vision. He was a measly step away when you felt strong arms grip you, and in one swift motion, they hung you on their shoulder.

It was your familiar, you knew from his oud scent . Most sorcerers have assistants called familiars, and yours must have sensed your danger through the empathy link you shared with him.

Dudu—as you named him—must have begun running with you, because it felt like you were moving. You managed to open your eyes, your vision was still blurry but you caught Ojuju right on your trail. The lights he had for eyes now glowed a dangerous red.

"The Faerie's Quarters is just a mile away, we'll be fine." Your familiar tried to feed you hope, but it was useless; Ojuju had finally caught up with you. You heard the beast release a dangerous growl as he held on to Dudu's jacket.

And you were on the ground again, hearing their groans in muffles. From where you were, you caught a hazy image of your familiar trying to fight off Ojuju. But you blinked, and Dudu had fallen to the earth.

Ojuju took the chance and began trudging towards you, but Dudu rolled on his side and got hold of Ojuju's ankle.

You were now too tired to even hope. You surrendered your fate to Oxosi, and then you closed your eyes and embraced the darkness that had been tugging at your consciousness.

And the last image you saw was both Ojuju and your familiar running to you; one to save your life, and the other to take it.

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

You're so so creative. I love how you're able to think outside the box to come up with something as diverse and delicious as this. I love your story and I love the cliffhanger too.

JUDGE WHITE

You are a great writer and an amazing story teller. Your cliffhanger was good, but it didn't hit me. Maybe because it was unrelatable to me, I don't know... but, it didn't really defeat the fact that it was still a good cliffhanger. At least I can ask the question "Did Ojuju get her?" "Was Ojuju actually out to get her?". I also liked the use of Second Person POV. I have a feeling this is the first time you are using it and that's a good challenge on yourself because you executed it pretty well.

JUDGE PURPLE

Good, but the cliffhanger wasn't strong. I wasn't hooked as a reader. Your writing pattern was beautiful though.

JUDGE SILVER

I loved the fact that you embedded a more Nigerian sparkle into your work and then shaped it up with pinches of your imagination. Very creative and unique. Beautiful.

And that ending had thrown me on an edge. Splendid work!

VS,

Faywrites 023

Title: Love at first sight.

Ever since I was a little girl, I didn't believe in love or marriage. So when girls my age dreamt of fairytale weddings and novel-worthy romance, I dreamt of a life of pleasure and freedom, a life void of betrayals and heartbreaks.

Well, that was until I met Samuel Oluwaseun. It was love at first sight and you could say I fell pretty hard and fast for someone who claimed to be so opposed to love but you shouldn't blame me. Samuel was perfect in ways I didn't think were possible and he made me happy.
So when he asked me to marry him barely five months after we met, like the crazy love-infatuated girl I was, I said yes.

My mum was overjoyed, not only had her daughter decided that marriage was no longer a taboo, she had also managed to snag herself a young prominent bachelor. Our mums, like typical Yoruba mothers, carried the wedding on their heads occasionally butting heads with the wedding planner. I didn't mind though, all I cared about was Samuel and the perfect life we were going to have together.

I couldn't believe it, I was going to become a wife which was against everything I stood for and I was ecstatic. I could already imagine our little family that included Samuel, our twins, and me, and it was perfect. Everything was perfect until mum included Prophet Steven then everything fell apart.

His message was simple, "Doyin, Samuel is not God's plan for you." Like he knew what God's plan was for anybody.

You see, I would have believed him if I didn't know that he couldn't see anything beyond the physical and even that was hard for him. He couldn't even tell that his beloved son had been sleeping with different women in the church for years, myself included, so why was I going to give up my one shot at happiness because of something he had said?
My mum, a devoted believer in Prophet Steven was distraught. She pleaded with me to stop the wedding but I refused.

"Why did Jesus divide the veil in the temple at his death, if I was to depend on a so-called man of God, if God didn't want me to marry Samuel then he will tell me himself", I had argued and after a while, she reluctantly gave up. My mum was gullible, which was why she had remained married to my dad all those years even when we all knew he was a chronic womanizer.

It was about a week before the wedding that I began to feel strange like I was missing something important. I tried to ignore the feeling that something was about to go wrong but I couldn't, my nerves were all over the place and I was scared.

Samuel had been very busy at the lab that week, something about an experiment that could be a global breakthrough and I had barely seen him, so I concluded I just missed him.
Samuel didn't like me visiting him at the lab but I went anyway, I was so confident he missed me just as much as I did.

I had expected the place to be crowded, surely he wasn't working on the experiment alone but it was strangely quiet with no one in sight, even the security post was empty. As I moved toward his office, my anxiety increased and my breathing became shallow.

No sense of foreboding could have prepared me for what I saw. The room spun and I gasped sharply trying to catch my breath. I couldn't explain the pain that filled my heart. My knees bucked and I fell to the ground. My dream was crumbling right in front of my eyes.

My teary eyes met his startled ones, my stomach churned and I gagged at the smell of the room. I had been wrong, there was no such thing as a perfect person neither was there anything like perfect love.
I remember thinking as I emptied the contents of my stomach, "Prophet Steven was right."

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

Yeah, now that's the definition of a cliffhanger. Nice story and even better execution. I love to see it.

JUDGE WHITE

I enjoyed your story a lot. It was a very good one and straight to the point at that. I like the fact that you didn't beat around the bush and made it so easy to understand. The Cliffhanger was also mad, very apt. I have so many questions. What did Samuel do biko, I really want to know. Your punctuations were also on point and you know how to tell a story well. Nice one.

JUDGE PURPLE

I wanted more, Short and straight to point. I enjoyed it.

JUDGE SILVER

This took the prompt by the hand and shook it hard. The ending gave us an open question that will have us anxious to know what happened next. A beautifully executed cliffhanger.

***

•005 AB CLEO VS 024 GIRLINLUV

05 AB CLEO

In Manibus Dei

In manibus Dei.

A Latin quote used by people around the world to signify a form of surrender. The statement was used when man had done all he possibly could in vain and as such meant he was placing it in God’s hands now.

For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why the despondent quote was the only thing in his head in such a dire moment. Maybe it was due to the irony of the statement in relation to his current predicament. The world was about to end, and the only thing that could stop it was gripped tightly in his hands, not God’s.

Hurriedly, he ran up the stairs that led to the roof of the cathedral. His heart pumping madly and his body running only on adrenaline. He pressed on the bullet wound on his stomach, ignoring the blinding pain and the blood that soaked through his cassock and dripped on the marble floor.

Behind him, his pursuers followed just as fast following the trail of his blood like a pack of wolves on the hunt.

The situation wasn’t surprising. The Sainthood had known this day would come. The day when the forces of darkness would come for the only thing that could offer light and hope to the people. The day they would all become martyrs for the Lord.

The only thing he hadn’t anticipated was that he’d be the only one left. Sister Agnes and the rest of the nuns had been slaughtered right on the altar, their blood flowing towards the tabernacle like a heathen sacrifice. The priests that had gathered for the mass had all had their throats slain like animals. All except him.

With gasping breaths and about to lose consciousness from blood loss, he burst through the door that led to the roof of the cathedral. The sun was setting, casting a warm and fading glow on everything its rays touched. Ahead, a couple of pigeons who had made their nest on the roof cooed loudly and flew away startled by the loud noise.

Hastily, as his heart pounded in uncontrollable fear, he pulled out his phone with shaky and trembling hands and dialled the numbers that had been assigned in case this disaster ever occurred. They all repeated the same monotonous and robotic sentence:

The number you’ve dialled is unavailable at the moment. Please...

He threw the phone on the cement floor angrily and watched it break apart into parts and pieces. Tears prickled at the back of his eyes and his heart ached and stung as overwhelming panic brewed at the back of his mind.

What was he going to do now?

The Key was the only thing that offered salvation to the world. He’d sworn an oath to protect it with his life, a life he was about to lose. Hearing the furious pounding of steps behind him, he rushed forward towards the edge of the roof and glanced around madly, his brain searching for an idea as fast as it could.

A few moments later, the door burst open again revealing the dark and twisted faces of his pursuers. The sun had finished setting and darkness surrounded the land making their presence even more menacing. The leader of the group took a step forward from the rest and pointed the gun that had been shot at him earlier again and spoke gravely.

“It’s over, Father. Hand over the Key and say your last prayers. You’ve all fought so gallantly but it’s time to rest now.”

The priest looked around at the pack of wolves who were beginning to surround him and suddenly laughed madly making the leader turn his lips in a wicked frown.

The priest laughed again, his eyes now clear and unafraid, and spread his blood-soaked arms wide just as the gun was fired and a bullet pierced through his chest. He immediately fell to the floor face first, his blood flowing like a river on the cold hard ground.

The leader quickly rushed towards him and turned his body over, immediately searching for the key. After searching fervently in vain, the leader snapped and grabbed the barely alive priest by his collar.

“Where’s the damn Key?” He snarled.

The Father coughed and chuckled faintly as he answered with a little smile on his blood-stained lips just before he finally died.

“In manibus Dei.”

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE WHITE

This is by far an improvement from stage one, I must say. Your punctuations were a lot better and I like the fact that you focused more in descriptions - which seem to be your strong suit - than dialogue. I also loved the way the story ended. It was a straightforward ending that was also a cliffhanger because we don't know what happened to the key. We didn't see where the priest kelt it and leaves a very important question; "Where is the key?". I personally think he swallowed it though 😂. I don't know, I'm just guessing. All in all, it was a very good story, a good improvement. Please don't relent.

JUDGE ORANGE

The improvement is amazing, I must say. Judging through past entries, this is a stunning step up. Good job, Cleo. The punctuation was neat. The descriptions were on point. The story was captivating, and the pun at the end was fancy. Good job!

JUDGE PURPLE

Not executed properly. But you improved so much from last time, I am proud of that.

VS,

024 GIRLINLUV

Prompt Theme: Cliffhanger
Title: Is He Really?

You rushed into the famous night club which was the venue of the week’s campus night – out, your best friend behind you tugging at your clothes. “Babe, this is a bad idea and you know it”, she whined as you turned around to look at her eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. Her doe eyes were pleading with you in attempt to make you reconsider your decision. Shrugging her hands off you, you scoffed. “See, I didn’t drag you here ooo. You chose to follow me on your accord so don’t disturb me abeg. I don’t even know why it is doing you like this when this matter doesn’t even concern you”, you said already becoming pissed. She sighed as she couldn’t refute your words. “If you are not comfortable, you can leave. As for me, I’m getting to the bottom of this today”, you continued as you set your lips together in a firm resolve. “Fine. Let’s go then”, she replied, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Yes!” You said excited, fist bumping the air as your lips broke into a smile. “Hard girl in the mud”, you heard your subconscious scoff but you ignored it. You knew deep down you needed moral support and your best friend was just the perfect person to provide you with that.
Dragging her by the hands, you walked further into the club which was now teeming with your mates, most of them already half drunk and wasted. Scrunching up your nose in disgust, you barfed at the sight unfolding in front of you. “Such a bunch of useless juvenile delinquents”, you hissed as your eyes caught a few of them at the corner smoking weed and others sniffing coke. Moving as fast as your legs could carry you, you shoved your way through the crowd further into the hall as your eyes couldn’t take any more of the profanities you just saw. You couldn’t help but keep your face in a scowl as all you could see around you were couples openly making out and others busying shoving different kinds of drugs into their systems. You heard a soft giggle beside you and you turned sharply to look at your best friend who was now trying desperately to prevent herself from laughing out loud. “What’s so funny?” You asked her, your eyebrows raised in a questioning manner. No longer able to keep it in, your best friend burst into fits of laughter. “Gosh, you needed to see how your face looked like back then. Have you really not seen this before? This is a regular sight in parties like this. Have you never tagged along with him before?” She asked still laughing.
Ignoring her, your eyes began to search for the sole reason why you were here in this filthy place, your erring boyfriend. Remembering how you got involved in all of this in the first place, you scoffed. “Can someone remind me why I am here again?” You asked out loud. Your best friend beside you burst into another fit of laughter. “I guess you’ve finally realized coming here was a bad idea”, she said in between bouts of laughter. You hissed, glaring at her making her shut up immediately. “Let’s find him and leave here immediately we confirm what I need to know”, you continued as you began to walk up the stairs in front of you. Pulling you lightly to make you stop and look at her you hear her say, “I just hope you’ll be fine after this”. “Of course, it’s not like I was in love with him anyways”, you scoffed, your voice though visibly shaking. “I honestly wish you aren’t lying to yourself”, she said and let go of your hands.
Sighing in an attempt to calm yourself down, you continued your journey up the stairs. You knew it deep down that you would be extremely hurt by what you wanted to confirm but you needed to; for your peace and sanity, you had to find out. You deserved the closure at least, even though it was going to break your heart that your crush of four years and boyfriend of one year was cheating on you. Finally reaching the top of the stairs, you began to search for him; opening doors to rooms which earned you glares and strings of curses from drunk hormonal couples who were busy in their business.
Just as you were about to give up your search, you heard a loud moan and someone screaming your boyfriend’s name from the adjacent room. Dragging your legs which were now too wobbly to support your weight, you leaned on the door and opened it with shaky hands. There in the room, you saw your boyfriend and another person on the bed tangled in the sheets, their clothes strewn all over the place. You stood at the door gaping at the sight in front of you. To say you were surprised was an understatement, you were shocked beyond belief. Your boyfriend sat up, staring at you wide – eyed as he began to mutter incoherent words in an attempt to explain. You could hear your best friend run to you as she called out your name but you were too stunned to move. This revelation was too much for you to bear. Your best friend got to you and was about to question you but she stopped as soon as she saw the sight in front of her. “What in the name of Mother Theresa, is he really?”, she exclaimed.

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

Your story lost me completely. Like, I don't understand. Did you bother to read the note punctuation that was sent to the group? I doubt it because your punctuations were all over the place. Your work was completely jam-packed and I couldn't get both the head and the tail if your story had any in the first place.

And please, where is the cliffhanger?

JUDGE WHITE

I'm going to be very straight with you. Your story wasn't good. Asides the fact that you didn't execute the theme properly, you didn't take any of what was said in your last review into any consideration. Makes me wonder if you actually went through it.

I, personally, pointed out how your work needed spacing and proper paragraphing. I also pointed out that dialogues shouldn't be mixed in between the paragraphs and should be standalones. But you did the exact same thing in this Entry. You didn't paragraph and you didn't exclude your dialogues from your paragraphs.

Then, you decided to use a second person POV which you didn't properly execute. It's good to challenge yourself but when you realize you are not executing it properly, you back out.

Asides all this, your punctuations were completely off. And that's saying so much given that an extensive note on punctuation was sent to the house last weekend. It's obvious you didn't even go through it.

I'm sorry, but your work wasn't appealing to read at all.

JUDGE ORANGE

You may have gotten the notes on punctuation that was sent out, wrong? The punctuation in the dialogue was off. I don't understand.
That aside, I hope you're not allergic to spacing. The work was very jam-packed. Next time, try to space out more. It makes the work neater.

JUDGE SILVER

Okay wow. Let me do a little survey.

Did your work look presentable? No.

Did the presentation throw me off the bus? Yes.

Does it look like it was properly reviewed and edited? No.

Does it look like something someone should send into any competition? Definitely not.

Did it do justice to the prompt? Absolutely not.

Now that that’s cleared up I want to say that your work lacked proper punctuation, spacing, exhibition, emotions, or anything that could drag a reader in, and worst of all the prompt execution was very poor.

You can do so much better than this, I hope I’ll get to see you really test your capabilities.

***

•006 LUCIFER'S BABY  021 NETSUKE WRITES

006 Lucifer's Baby

STORY PROMPT :CLIFFHANGER
TITLE: THE RECEPTIONIST.

11th November 2009.
Obalende, Lagos.

She sat on one of the many rickety, rusty metal chairs in the waiting room, chairs that creaked a rhythm, was it her mind playing tricks on her?
Somewhere down the hall, she heard the steady drip drip of a Tap, florescent lights blinked off, making soft clicks in the waiting room that seemed to echo.
She stretched her legs on the uneven floors, red and white terrazzo patterns her scrambled head couldn't decipher. The floors were not clean,a suspicious brown stain in front of her,close to her outstretched left leg she crossed over her right, was that vomit?, Almost immediately she heard retching down the hallway and the stench wafted into her nostrils and she gagged, a sound that elicited a look from the nurse.
Nurse Caro,a fortyish looking lady, her cap askew on her head, lips painted too bright a shade of red, big bushy eyebrows drawn from one end of a brow to another,red blush completing the horrendous look coupled with her uniform, obviously once white but it had taken on a cream colour and a tea stain close to her collar who glared as she noticed her pointed stare and spoke, "why you dey look me like dat?,na me give you belle?" She asked, Ijeoma wondered whether she was to answer or not,she wasn't sure, however a few minutes later when a woman and her daughter came out of a doctor's office, she raised her voice even louder, almost shouting, "Abi na me give you belle,talk na?", And when she saw the woman and her daughter had paused, presumably to listen,she added," Or did I ask you to open your legs for one stupid boy!?" She asked, scrunching her lips like she finished licking a sour orange.
And so Ijeoma bowed her head,the pious,repentant pose of a person who had made grievous mistakes in life,after all how could she be pregnant,she of all people be pregnant,the daughter of the foreign affairs minister, pregnant out of wedlock,it was abominable!. Her parents were staunch Catholics,her mother would definitely have an apoplexy on hearing the news,her father would only look at her with his deep souless eyes and say how disappointed he was, listing all he'd done for her,it usually started with sending her to the best primary school in the country, sending her to Eton for her secondary education and Imperial college for her University education. She'd done it again, dragged the virtous family name in the mud.
Occasionally, the nurse looked up at her from her desk to look at her and hiss,mutter something about girls who don't keep themselves nowadays and go about aborting God given babies or abandoning them in dumpsters and tell the woman with her daughter how she never even had a boyfriend ttill she was done with her Service year and speak to her daughter never to act like"a loose child of the devil". The little child with wide eyes nodded with an alacrity that was more alarming,with the way she nodded, Ijeoma thought her head might roll of her shoulders, she reminded her of herself as a little girl, eager to please and play the submissive little girl.
The girl, like she knew like she was being watched looked directly at Ijeoma and she saw it, the tiredness in her eyes,the weary look she wore,it swirled in her eyes,an emotional burden,the weight of the prim proper presumably Christian girl she was supposed to be, she reminded her of Yomade, oh dear Yomade. He was different,he knew it and so did everyone,he did not conform to the "normal" patterns of the world,he was unusual,it didn't matter to him who you loved or who he chose to love, however it mattered to them. Bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders,he jumped in front of a fast moving truck,his casket was closed at his funeral,the eye witness,the roasted plantain seller, ironically his favorite snack and the last thing he bought before jumping into the road she spoke to said he flew at least six feet in the air, "im body fly like plane con land yakata! like bag of rice,all him body just spray like water....." She tuned her out,she couldn't bear to hear anymore.
Nurse Caro looked at her again, disgust etched and Ijeoma remembered how the nurse recieved her,a cherry Nigerian greeting, asking about the family,her friends and even became more effusive in her greetings, forcing a sliding nasal accent that reminded her of someone,an insecure immigrant she saw when she was in the US. She spoke like him now, matching her words with the nurse, slurring her 'R's', rolling her 'T's'  as she spoke,she used this same nasal accent to tell her of her mission  and when she whispered the words Pregnancy test,Nurse Caro recoiled like she'd been burnt and remained closed up,she threw the test sample container at her and asked her to fill it and when she asked for the toilet,she hissed and went back to reading her Better Lovers magazine, she found the toilet, outside the building in a zinc shack with a creaky wooden door and a broken bulb,the toilet had a foul stench,walls stained with suspicious dried brown good and what looked like white stains on the bowl, the pipes leaked and dripped in a broken,sun bleached bucket that was full and trickling over, wetting the floor, finishing the look.
She filled the container and returned it to the nurse who took with a sneer and gave it to a doctor in the hallway. She'd been waiting ever since,her thoughts flying faster than cars on a high speed express road, trepidation filled her,her heart was pounding in her chest,loud ringing filled her ears, she was panicking now, what would she do, where would she hide?
The door opened and the doctor came into the waiting room and asked," Ijeoma Okorocha?" She nodded,he handed her an envelope with a smile on his face," Congratulations, you're three weeks pregnant" he said grinning like an idiot.
She took it and turned around, she wasn't going to have an abortion,Never!. As she entered her Opel Astra and nosed the car towards the bridge,she wondered how she would explain to her mother how she was pregnant with her stepchild and her grandchild.

How was she going to explain that she was pregnant for her mother's husband,her father?

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

Your use of punctuation is just completely off. I understand that you guys got a note on the use of punctuation but it didn't reflect in your writing at all. Also, there's a difference between a plot twist and a cliffhanger. Your story had a plot twist and not a cliffhanger so you didn't do justice to the theme at all.

JUDGE WHITE

Sigh...

I have to ask, did you go through the punctuation note that was sent to the house? It's very clear that you didn't because your punctuations were way off. This made your work extremely messy and difficult to read.  Plus your work your jam-packed, dialogues mixed between the paragraphs.

Why?!

Plus your story didn't end in a cliffhanger, but a plot twist. They are not synonymous  You could have used both in the story not one or the other.

JUDGE PURPLE

I would be honest. We are all here to learn, so I won't be sugarcoating anything.

First and foremost, there was no improvement. Honestly speaking, there was none, I believe you read the reviews from the judges last time.

The one which pissed me off was the fact, there was a note on punctuations sent to the house last week. Because we noticed it was one of the issues many of you were battling with. It's very obvious you didn't study it, because if you did, I would have noticed an improvement, like I did with others.

We are here to learn too, as well as win. Honestly, I am not impressed at all. Everything was a mess, I tried my best to read it because it was so jam-packed. I finally completed it, only to notice, that even the theme wasn't executed properly, which could have given you an edge.

All I have to say is, go back to the lesson on punctuation, take your time and read it. If you don't understand, direct your questions to the moderator, we would be happy to help out, and yes, that's one of the reasons for the competition, to gain knowledge and improve on our weaknesses.

Even if you don't make it to the next stage. Please go back to that punctuation lesson. We are here to learn, I would be glad because even if you don't leave here with the award, you leave with knowledge. You have gotten something.

I want you to improve, I honestly do.

JUDGE SILVER

Your work was very messy. Your punctuation was very off and your paragraphing and spacing were very sloppy. This gave me a very huge headache to read. But your story was very nice, the description was amazing, and the way you told the story was gripping but how it was presented would just kill the willingness to continue from the first sentence.

And of course, it didn't seem to flow with the prompt given, that was more of a plot twist than a cliffhanger, wasn't it?

That was a rhetorical question. Your work was weak this time around.

VS,

Pen name: Netsuke_writes
Serial Number: 021

Theme: cliffhanger

Title: Osculation.

I was ten when I got my first kiss.

In those delightful seconds, while his pink plump lips were pressed on mine, a jolt of utopian happiness spiraled up my spine, leaving me numb.

I never knew I could feel any of those emotions. When he backed away, my heartbeat raced faster than it normally does. I breathed heavily, unable to comprehend what had just happened and why my body was reacting to what he did in that way.

My eyes scanned around the area, in hopes of not finding any prying brown eyes. But all I found was the face of an embarrassed 12-year-old boy.

“I’m so sorry Adaku, this was not supposed to happen. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Joseph said, covering his entire face with his tiny hands. However, it changed from us playing to him meeting lips with me was such a mystery.

The lad was right. It was erroneous for us to be doing such things. It would even be considered an abomination, but I wanted more.

“Do it again,” I said, surprising myself. Joseph stared at me without uttering a word. He couldn’t believe I didn’t chastise him for doing that.

He then immediately grabbed me by my waist and plopped his lips against mine. I thought those weird emotions were a one-time thing, but I felt the same way even after he kissed me the second time.

“We should meet here to do more of this,” I suggested, hoping he’d agree with me. I loved the way I felt, and I was willing to keep feeling that way, even if it meant me sneaking out of the house to do so.

“I love the way you think. We will be meeting here to kiss.” He smiled widely, and I couldn’t help but notice some teeth missing from his mouth.

Kiss?

That was an unfamiliar word to me. I immediately concluded that it might be the word used to describe what we were doing.

“Yes, kiss.” I beamed.

Each time we kissed after that day, my desire for more kisses increased. I even became a better kisser. I went from the girl that never parted her lips to the girl that parted her lips and even knew what appropriate time to slip her tongue into someone’s mouth. It was all flowing naturally and deep inside my underdeveloped body; I knew there was still something more than just kissing.

Like we always did, we went to our kissing spot. After kissing Joseph for two minutes straight, I backed away.

“Joseph, do you ever feel weird every time you kiss me?” It never occurred to me to ask him if he felt the same way. But I was really hoping he did.

“Yes, I always do.” He snickered. My heart immediately rested in its usual place, knowing I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.

I held his hand into mine." Where did you learn to kiss from?"

“Chioma had this movie on her laptop where people were doing that; so I wanted to try it too. That’s why I ended up kissing you on that day.” The moment he said that it instantly made me recall my first kiss with him. When I thought about it, I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at how pathetic I once was at kissing.

“Did you see anything else? I feel like there is more we can try.” My instincts made me strongly feel something was missing.

“I never finished the movie. It made me feel weird, but I’ll tell you when I try watching the whole thing.”

“Okay, let’s kiss again then,” I commanded, wanting to feel that amazing feeling all over again. He pulled me close and began to kiss me.

As we approached a new season, we met up once again, but Joseph seemed more excited than usual.

“I discovered something new, Adaku.” He grinned widely and his dark brown eyes sparked and gleamed with joy.

“What?” I raised my eyebrow, hoping his discovery would be based on our kissing and not something petty guys find exciting.

“There is something called a hickey.” He grinned like he just accomplished something.

“What’s that?”

“People bite each other.”

“I thought you’d talk about something more sensible. That sounds very stupid.” I smacked my forehead.

“You don’t get it Adaku, they do that while they kiss.”

“So biting someone makes sense to you?”

“Chioma’s movie made it look enjoyable. I was only suggesting.”

“I don’t care. Just kiss me and let’s get this over with.” I pulled him to me and placed my lips against his.

“Oh, my goodness!” I heard a voice I knew very well. Which made me stop kissing him.

My mom stood near a bush and began to walk in my direction. Joseph pushed me behind him in an attempt to protect me.

“Where did you two learn this filthy habit from? How can you proudly bring disgrace upon the family by doing this?” She said through gritted teeth.

She continued talking when she noticed our silence."I had a bad feeling about every time you two went missing from the house, but little did I know you would be this stupid! I did well to follow you, otherwise, I’d never have known you two were doing this shameful act."

“Mom, just shut up!” Joseph said, with no ounce of fear traced in his voice.

“Oh my God! I should shut up?” She immediately raised her hand and slapped Joseph." You think it’s right for you to be kissing your sister?"

“Mom, I don’t care what you think!”

“Your father will deal with you, useless child. I can’t believe you dragged Adaku who knows nothing, into this. Adaku you’re coming with me.” She held my wrist and began walking away with me.

“Joseph, do something!” I cried out.

He immediately ran away to get something and shortly after he began running with a big log.

He surprised me by striking it against my mom’s head. My mom screamed in so much pain and shortly, she fell to the ground as a red liquid oozed from her head.

“Mom, are you okay?” I shook her, hoping for a response from her.

“She is probably dead by now,” Joseph said." That’s for slapping me."

“Joseph, mom needs to be alive. Who will make Jollof for us?” I said, still shaking her unconscious body.

“Right now, Adaku, we shouldn’t care about that. We have to run.”

“Why are we running? Shouldn’t we call someone to help mom?” I asked, tears falling down my face when I noticed she wasn’t responding.

“No, we can’t, we just have to run!” He shouted, panic reflecting in his voice.

“But it’s not safe. We don’t have anywhere to go to.”

“We have no option right now. Wherever we’ll go, we will be free to kiss as much as we want without hearing any parent’s stupid opinions. Just grab my hand and let’s go! ”

I didn’t understand the gravity of the situation, so I grabbed his hand and ran away with him.

JUDGES REVIEWS

JUDGE GOLD

The first line of your story reeled me in but that was all for me. Apart from the first line, I didn't quite get what you were trying to portray. A cliffhanger means getting us curious at the end of your story, not confusing us with your story. I get that the kids were kissing because they were exposed to some X-rated video but that conversation between a 10-year-old and a 12-year-old didn't ring right to me and no, I'm not talking about their naivety because you did justice with that.

Also, is the boy talking to his mother like that? Aaah and he even went ahead to get a log that he hit on her head? Come on, that's all shades of unrealistic. And I still don't see any cliffhanger in your story.

JUDGE WHITE

Babe, you are a good writer. But I have to tell you, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, your story wasn't it for me at all.

I'm not sure why you decided to write in that line at all, maybe it was because you were commended in stage one for your ability to bring out a comic relief from everything. I don't know if you wanted to do the same here, but you ended up defeating the entire purpose of your story to me. It was funny initially, until you completely lost me in a sea of confusion.

You didn't even write in line with the theme because your story didn't have any Cliffhanger. Then there were so many unrealistic scenes. I get the naivety of children but yours seemed to be  far fetched. The girl that didn't know what a kiss was or how to kiss suddenly knew how she was a good kisser and how to use her tongue? And the boy telling his mum to shut up, then went ahead to kill her... how? I'm sorry, I don't see it.

Please next time, take the theme seriously. We are not just judging based on how well you write but also how well you can execute a giving theme or prompt. and I'm sorry to say, you didn't do the latter at all.

JUDGE ORANGE

I enjoyed this story. It was funny and showed how naive children could be. It's an interesting read.
I had some issues with it though. First, the dialogues didn't sound like things kids would say.  The English was too eloquent. The children could have said the same thing, but with a more childish language. You know, the way a child would say it.

Also, a twelve year old killing his mum is something that's not normal. If you wanted to pull that off, you could have done more work on the brother's character. Yes, I am aware that they are kids and they don't understand the gravity of their actions, but every child has some empathy. If the brother was different from other children, show us how. Asides the fact that he was watching pornography and luring his sister into things, he could have also been hanging around some bad boys and torturing animals for the fun of it. He could have been sneaking in cigarettes from the pre teen bad friends he had, but choking every time he tried to smoke it. He could have been shown as a child who was very prone to be dangerous, but subtly, before he did the final thing. That's killing his mother. Learn to develop characters into carrying the bizarre actions you want to add into the plot. Don't just throw it in.

That aside, it was good. Even if I'm unsure of the genre.  The cliffhanger effect was not too strong too. It seemed like a normal story ending; it didn't really hang me on a cliff, per say.

JUDGE PURPLE

I would be honest here, I was disappointed.

I was like, not you.

Your previous works have been exceptional, and mindblowing. I was legit anticipating your work.
Let's put the fact it's a fiction, not compulsory it must be realistic, but this was on another level.
I get you were trying to measure up to the last time, where you did exceptionally.

Honestly, it was so funny and engaging in a way. I was kind of amused. But this didn't suit the theme at all. This entry wasn't it. No no!

You are a good and talented writer. I know that. I am not going to argue that, but this wasn't it.
Your punctuations and every other thing were on point. No doubt, the storyline was a No! You also didn't even execute the theme, there was no cliffhanger at all.

I get you wanted to make this fun, trust me you did, but it wasn't in any way related to the theme given.

This is a Nigerian themed right? For a ten and twelve-year-old, they sounded too mature. I didn't get the Nigerian vibe from the Mum too.

That isn't my issue here. Different kids with different behaviour, some kids here in Naija are very disrespectful and can go extreme, let's leave that outside. Maybe you wanted to showcase something else, which I could see as the naivety of those kids, it wasn't a bad attempt, the problem I have is that it didn't portray the theme at all.

I didn't get they were even siblings till the end, and I am still confused if they were.
You didn't justify the theme at all. You are a great writer, I hope to see you in the next stage, and also see something that portrays that talent in you.

You are a great writer, I want you to know that.

I laughed so hard when reading.

“Joseph, mom needs to be alive. Who will make Jollof for us?” 😂😂

You know how to bring out the fun. Overall it was a very funny story, just that it didn't suit the theme at all. You can do better.

***

That will be it for tonight, guys! What do you think?

Which works do you think are defs making it into the next stage and which ones are your personal favourites? Comment down below!

Meanwhile, Project Pen will see you again tommorow. We will see the works of the remaining contestants and the Judges Reviews as well. Good bye from Project Pen!✨