London, 1786
"My husband did not commit suicide," Mrs. Blackwheel said, tapping her foot on the wooden floor. "He was murdered by an unknown man."
The Judge wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he told a man dressed in white to present his facts.
"On July, 1781, Mr. Blackwheel's dead body was found on top of a bridge with a knife in his hand. According to onlookers, they had seen a man leave the scene with a necklace he had taken from Mr. Blackwheel’s neck. There was no evidence of struggle between Mr. Blackwheel and the man who Mrs. Blackwheel claimed to be the murderer of her husband."
"Is that all?" The judge asked.
There was a short silence. The man dressed in white inspected the piece of paper he was holding.
"Anything else, Mr. Strange?"
"Nothing of interest, sir."
"If you are withholding information that may lead to a better understanding of the case we are dealing with here, I advise you make a reasonable decision before putting yourself in a position you can't escape."
Mr. Strange slowly folded the papers and put them inside his pocket. Mrs. Blackwheel looked up at the Judge and then Mr. Strange, helplessly, wonderingly. Mr. Strange looked at the Judge and then smiled.
"I don't see myself as a man of honor, sir," Mr. Strange began. “I know how you feel about withholding information to the public. You are in a position to administer justice to the good people of London and you feel obliged to do it no matter the cost, don't you?" Mr. Strange voice came low and soft; and the Judge, listening, almost grew tired of telling him to go straight to the point. "I possess information that may affect Mr. Blackwheel's reputation badly," Mr. Strange continued. "I beseech everyone present in this court room to leave so I can speak to the Judge alone."
"That is not going to happen," Mrs. Blackwheel raised her voice. "If my husband was a murderer, I have every right to know who he has killed. Why are you keeping us in the dark when you can show us the light? If you say what he has done, will it affect him? My husband is buried in a famished road in Stockholm. If there is any sense of remorse you have for his legacy, you will tell everyone in this court room how he lived his life or you can keep your mouth shut forever and never open it in public."
Mr. Strange anger rose. He was trying to protect Mr. Blackwheel's image and he did not want Mrs. Blackwheel to condemn him for protecting her husband.
"I don't want to anger a dead man's soul," Mr. Strange said.
"If there is a way out of this case and you are the one stopping us from reaching that side, I won't hesitate to ensure that I use my power to send you to Mr. Blackwheel's resting place," the Judge threatened.
"There is more to Mr. Blackwheel than family and England. There is more to him than being a special adviser of the former king of England."
“Listen, Mr. Strange. It has been five years since Mr. Blackwheel left the earth. Since then, there have been rumors about the cause of his death until you showed up in my office and presented me with reasonable facts explaining his death. Mrs. Blackwheel has lived the past five years of her life looking at the mirror and wishing the death of whoever that was present during her husband's last moment here. Do you understand the position that I am in?”
Mr. Strange said nothing. He wanted to talk, but he did not like the tone of intense eagerness in the Judge's voice. He heard the door behind him open; he turned his head just in time to see two royal guards step inside the court room and shut the door. He knew if he didn't start talking, he wouldn't be sleeping in the same bed with his wife before the end of the day.
"Oskar," Mr. Strange said. "The man that was with Mr. Blackwheel during the night of his death was called Oskar."
"Tell the court more about Oskar," the Judge said, clutching his hands.
Mr. Strange wanted to explain the first meeting Mr. Blackwheel had with Oskar; how he had promised the young Swedish man that he was going to protect him; the tremendous excitement that took over him when they made a blood covenant.
"Oskar was like a brother to Mr. Blackwheel. They shared a lot of things in common. They ate on the same table, drank wine together and had sex with the same woman," Mr. Strange paused to take a quick look at Mrs. Blackwheel. Her countenance had changed. She was no longer full of excitement.
"You may continue, Mr. Strange," the Judge urged him.
"Mr. Blackwheel was part of a brotherhood in Sweden. They called themselves, 'Priory of Göteborg'. They committed crimes ranging from abduction to sexual abuse even as far as public rape. It is sad to say that Mr. Blackwheel wasn't always the good man that most of us knew him for before he left with his wife and family to Sweden," Mr. Strange stopped to watch the reaction of the people in the court room. Solid eyes gazed at him, surprisingly worried if he actually knew the punishment for misinformation.
"On one occasion," Mr. Strange continued. "Mrs. Blackwheel's husband was coerced to rape a virgin who was the sister of Oskar."
"Lies!" Mrs. Blackwheel screamed. "My husband was a decent man even in death. He was a good man. A moral man!"
"Sir," Mr. Strange said, facing the Judge. "Inside my pocket are evidences proving that her husband was a murderer and a rapist. He wasn't only a murderer and a rapist but an influential man in the brotherhood who gave orders and took orders. It seems quite unbelievable for me to say this, sir."
"You know the punishment, Mr. Strange," the judge looked at him sternly.
"Well," Mr. Strange turned to face the people inside the court room. "Mr. Blackwheel was not a human. He was a werewolf."
Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. The Last Full Moon is his third book and his third attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist.
Kano, 2022There was no light. There was no sound. There was no imaginary figure running around his mind and playing games with him. The road that was up above him was clear and black. Fear, Ifenna now realized, was an intense rush of displeasure that motivated a man to run for the security of his own life. Short of breath, he fumbled through the blackness towards the road, almost staggering, almost allowing the image of seeing Kelvin raising a gun and shooting at him revolve around his head. He found a soft spot and made an attempt to rest when he realized that he had to make sure that Jane was safe. But how could he reach her when he couldn't remember where he had last seen his phone? Just then, as he was thinking about the location of his phone, an alarm he had set up in his phone about a week ago to make sure he attended all the morning exercises class rang. He reached out towards his left pockets and brought his phone out. He smiled as he felt grateful that some unfo
Pennsylvania, 2022Maria sat very still, listening and not listening. She was looking at the face of the man who had come in place of James Blackwheel, to ask for her forgiveness and understanding. If someone had asked her to repeat the words of the preacher, she would not have been able to do so without making a single mistake because she didn't understand what he meant when he told her to forgive and forget. She didn't understand the ease he felt as he let those words slide out from his tongue as if it would take away all the atrocities that James Blackwheel had committed in his life. But she felt and sensed the genuineness in the preacher's voice and she saw meaning as she tried to reason in the same plain he was reasoning. As the preacher talked more about forgiveness and its positive impact in the modern society, a vast dark silent void lifted away from her eyes and she could see familiar images which grew large and powerful; familiar images of Blackwheel planting hi
Pennsylvania, 2022Not once during the five days following the explanation behind Uju and Abby's death had an image of their dead bodies buried underneath the ground come into Maria's mind. She had thought about it bitterly until she could no longer cry or think again. She had thrust the whole scene back and forth, and there it still lay, monstrous, horrible and terrifying as it had been before. She was not much of a believer but she believed in the power of words and truth. And to think that her ancestral father, James Blackwheel who she had never met was involved in their deaths made her feel awful and sad. She was not so much in a bad stupor or in a wayward lane with brown leaves falling quickly with no end. She was in a bizarre situation where she saw Uju and Abby begging for their lives and being punished for doing so.Having been briefed by Detective Doe about the incident that had kept her in the dark, she made a quick call to Clark with the hope that he would answe
Lagos, 2022Kelvin stopped listening, feeling fear for the first time. He had not thought that the message sent to him using a foreign number was a solution to his love problem with Sharon. A solution that came with a price. How could he explain to Ifenna that the gift Maria had given to him during his last trip to America was greatly desired by a group of people who tagged themselves as members of a secret organization called the 'Priory of Göteborg'? Oh, Lord! He was drunk. The members of the 'Priory of Göteborg' were all drunk to think he would accept their offer and take the life of Ifenna because of love. How could he? The instructions he had gotten from them was clear and simple. Take the necklace and eliminate the target. But how could he do that when he was greatly attached to Ifenna in ways that the members of the Brotherhood didn't understand? How could someone who knew absolutely nothing about his life choose him as a tool to achieve their quest? What
Lagos, 2017KELVIN:Hey! How are you doing? I finally came back! I missed talking to you! How have things been going on your side?BELLA:Hey! Good morning! Or afternoon to you I think! It is great to see you back. I missed you!KELVIN:I missed you too. Good afternoon!BELLA:It is 7 am here and I'm hooking up my morning coffee drip. The weather is really not that bad. I am sure you can relate with the feeling of the weather. It feels cold but it isn't. I think the weather is in a good mood today.KELVIN:So, do you have a pipe inside your body? That is great! Honestly, it is!BELLA:I don't have a pipe inside my body! Coffee is great! Lol! All day long! I never see the need to sleep.KELVIN:You seem happy today. That is a good trait.BELLA:I suppose so.. every once in a while it happens. I guess I am happy today because you finally came back. It is always great to reunite with a long lost friend even if he has