Another Evil

Lincoln Steele was an unhappy man. He had seen his mother and father attacked by one of my kind and killed. He felt little more than envy for the creature’s power and never mentioned what he witnessed to another living soul. He was six years old at the time.

I will never know for certain if evil in human form is the result of nature, nurture or if indeed some are just born with a chemical imbalance that pre determines evil deeds…maybe my kind seduces the disillusioned into darkness. Whatever the explanation, Lincoln was evil and clear about his beliefs in a way that was enviable.

He worked endlessly on his body and senses, training, preparing for a moment he was sure would come. He believed he would be given the opportunity to become what he had seen, or in killing it something more. One thing distracted him from his single minded pursuit, Ngozi. He was enchanted by her beauty, obsessed with claiming her as his own.

Lincoln first saw Ngozi walking to a clinic in his area where she volunteered twice a week. He followed her from that day. He was at her father’s funeral, outside her house when she got home and near my estate during her frequent visits. It is how I became a part of his surveillance. It didn’t take him long to decide that he hated me, that I was no better than massa from days still fresh in the consciousness of the recently freed. It incensed him that Ngozi spent so much time with me, and that I was able to make her smile when he felt he was more worthy of making her happy.

For a long time he watched and waited. He summoned the courage eventually to say good morning and good afternoon, always polite, non-descript. She answered of course, even smiled and Lincoln took this as an acknowledgement of their connection. She was used to the attention from men, and there was nothing uniquely different from their casual encounters that stood out in her mind. Steele was convinced though, he would have her soon enough and there was nothing I or anyone else could do about it.

It was June 28^th 1981 a date in my recent past that I will never forget. It had not rained in weeks, but on that afternoon there was a heavy shower that stopped a short time before Ngozi was ready to leave. We talked about her work and the exciting possibilities now open to the country because of their oil revenue. She was so happy. The air was cool and there was a sweet scent of lemon grass in the wind. The sun was just beginning to set and Ngozi wanted to enjoy walking on the wet grass alone with her thoughts. The house was only twenty minutes away and I would usually accompany her, but it was still daylight and she was well and strong and happy and I let her walk alone…only she was not alone.

I still remember the music of her hips as she walked away, turning just before she disappeared to wave and smile, her beautiful face framed by a neat, medium afro. Minutes later I was overwhelmed by dark sensations. I felt a cold chill, despite the warmth and humidity and then I was brought to my knees by the images. I could hear the muffled scream and see the powerful figure straddling her, battering her with both fists. His buttocks were exposed, thrusting and then his fists were around her neck and her pleas were sandwiched between gasps for air. Her eyes were now fixed on some point beyond him and then on me. Ngozi!