Revenge: A Story By Wilson Ezama

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Revenge is the action of hurting or harming someone in return for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands.     oxforddictionaries


Crime Scene

The two officers observed the scene. They were in what appeared to be a little girl’s room. The room was intact in every way there wasn’t any sign of struggle or forced entry. Everything appeared normal except for the body hanging by the neck from the ceiling, and another on the bed with a bullet hole through his temple.

“Oh dear God,” the younger officer exclaimed.

His partner, an older officer brought out his phone and called for an emergency unit.

“Help me with that chair,” he said to his partner. “We need to bring down the body.”

The two men were sitting in front of the house on lawn chairs. The building was magnificent in aesthetics. They hadn’t said a word to each other since they managed to bring down the body dangling like a ripe fruit from the ceiling.


The older man pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.

“Why do bad things happen to good people?” The younger man asked, breaking the silence of the cold morning.

He took a long whiff of the cigarette, and gently blew out a steady stream of white smoke that diffused as the seconds ticked, spreading its scent.


“Son,” he began. “I love my job and after all I have seen in all my years of service, there is no answer to your question. But all I can tell you is, I have lost faith in humans.” He took another whiff of his cigarette. They were quiet, as the silence screamed.

Why dont you Read  Revenge: A Story By Wilson Ezama (contd)

From a distance, the morning cries of a preacher traveled through the air with words of admonition against the evils of this world, the need for repentance and holiness. Both men were deep in thought and none desired to puncture the silence with words as they waited for the emergency unit to arrive.




John stood from the desk, picked up the bottle of vodka and took another gulp before relocating to the bed. The room was lit by a single energy bulb, that had lost almost all of its energy, yet it lit the room bright enough for one to see.

He sat on the bed, and the foam sunk with his weight. He was now facing his captive, who look terribly disheveled and bound by the hands and feet. He was unconscious and john watched him carefully.


This man was the reason for pain in many homes, he cared not for the sanctity of life, as he plucked, and clipped and snuffed people out of existence for reason unjustifiable. On the bed beside him laid a gun. He picked it up and admired the craftsmanship of its maker; such ingenuity by youths in the eastern part of the country. Too bad its application brings pain; pain which he knew. He just had to revenge.



About Author

I’m Alara Karis, a writer and blogger who simply loves living each day at a time. Some call me a nerd, some call me a professor. But if you ask me, I’ll simply say I’m an artist who enjoys painting the world in words.