...2wo

Chapter Two
The doctor said he blacked out. Carl said he must have been fatigued. He alone knew he experienced something powerful. The doctor warned him not to drive; so he remained in the passenger corner as Carl drove him home. At eight past nine; it was time for him to call Isabella, his estranged wife. She lived with his nine year old daughter: Kome at Ihama road. Driving home; they both sat in silence; once every two minutes, Tokunbo would turn to look behind. He somehow felt they were been followed by something…or perhaps: someone.
Carl drove them through the remote controlled gate. Tokunbo sat quietly as Carl came around to open his side of the door. Getting out, he avoided the look on his friends face. Together they walked into the neatly groomed living room of Tokunbo’s mansion. Carl was the first to speak up: “Man you really spooked me out there. What happened?” “I have no idea. But I think I was transported to another lifetime.” He stopped himself, because he all of a sudden sensed he didn’t make any sense. But what happened; he thought within. What really did happen? Sensing he was not in the mood to talk; Carl decided to call it a night. He had a lot of things to do to get the house in order before sales date. He had to pick up food from Kim’s place for himself and his dog: Jack. He had to type his new findings into his inventory and most of all he had to read the new find. He was already calling it: The Diary of a Mad Brown Man!


…
He got home with two bags of plastic packages; One for him and the other for Jack. He patted the waiting Doberman on the head; stroking it gently, before pouring the contents of rice, chicken parts and bones into the large bowl. Standing to allow the dog eat; he reasoned for a while why a dog was man’s best friend. Anyway; he just had the thing there for protection and that’s all that mattered.
He went upstairs to his waiting computer; carrying with him the other plastic of rice and chicken together with the card box container of photographs, memorabilia and a diary of a mad brown man. Once in front of his computer; he settled in his swivel chair to a feast of knowledge with rice and chicken. In no time he was done with the food and deeply engrossed in his inventory.
He typed the number of photographs discovered in #334 Ikuah close. They totaled a number of 600. Each postcard size print noised with age of sitting in the box, and each equally labeled with the person or people in it. Picking one; it says: Eromosele. When he came back from London, 1567. Another said: Ifueko and Eromosele. Before wedding in Esako, Benin Kingdom, 1868. Another one had a boy in his teens; with the looks of a sixties rock star. It said: Ikahinde, East London, 1866. One had the same sixties rock star in a pale blue dungarees suit and spiky blond hair with a beautiful woman. It was labeled: Ifueko and Ikahinde: East London, 1812. It made no sense. Did photography even exist in the 13th century? He reckoned it impossible.
…He stopped reading them as he punched them into his inventory. Might as well finish the inventory, and then give it time to authenticate their dates. He finished at midnight; switched the authenticate mode of his software, grabbed the diary of a mad brown man: walking into the light of his master bedroom.
Without a shower to clean off the day’s dirt or a brush of teeth, he sat up in bed: still in shoes, shirt and an unfastened tie to the beginning of a fascinating read of another man’s memories.


E
sako, Benin Kingdom: 1358
I am nameless; but my people call me Ikahinde. I come from a lineage of the ones they call Vampires. Yes! I am a vampire. Before I start telling you about my prestigious self and history: I think you should know that I am already two hundred years old and living youthfully as a seventeen year old. I haven’t aged a bit since the initiation day; the day I turned seventeen. I think you should also know that the fact that you are reading this now; means I will find you and suck you dry.
What is it with people and responsibility; everywhere I go they want me to be idiotically responsible. Maybe I think this way because of my age or I do so because I have lived in the city of London. The place I was re-awoken to this year.
I am a lost soul and hope to find peace someday in my life. I have a wife and two children: a son, Ataman and a daughter: Ifueko. They are both the joy of my life as a living man. I should say that we are all vampires.

One day I hope that some superior being will grant me salvation; but I don’t know if we are meant to believe in such. I have asked before why not believe in God. If we can believe in the devil; why not a superior God? The only person that agrees with me on this is my precious daughter and I truly cherish her for that. I once heard that our people derive pleasure from killing people; maybe it is true, we live from the blood we suck off others. But with it comes the remorse feeling of taking another life. I always wanted immortality; but I never bargained for hell. It is a constant torture to see the faces of the ones you take life from.

I am the strongest warrior and hence the strongest night hunter amongst my tribesmen. It gives me pleasure that at a very young age of seventeen; I have achieved all the possibilities of adulthood. I have a wife; I don’t love and two children I love dearly. What more can a man want? I guess; someday I will pay for my sins…maybe on judgment day! Until then, I will go on living with the only urge I have for survival: which is to suck.

…Today, seventh day of the seventh month of this year; I am preparing to travel back to London. I love London so much; it is the city of my youth and the hope of a better future for my lineage. I travel by sea and arrived East London docks within three months of starvation of blood and feeding on the flesh and bitter blood of birds of prey. It is a good thrill to avoid danger and the heightened eyesight derived from feeding nocturnally is actually a devilish boost of energy. …En route I come across a male clan of mine; of the lineage of Omorodion…

He slammed the hardbound note pad tight. Nonsense; Vampires? Hmm; do they really exist, he asks himself. Maybe not; the man must have been living in delusions or maybe…His mind and eyes needed to rest. Without a struggle; he found himself agreeing to sleep. This he did so fast; not feeling the blood been sucked out of him.


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Ikahinde always believed he would wake up someday! He never believed it will be in the land he had forgotten long ago. He never believed he would find himself in the land of his forefathers. A land he had worked to erase from his memory centuries ago. Now he found his soul gaining strength in the new man. The one that had found his diary. The diary he had kept to remind him and any other of their heritage. He tried to see through clear eyes; the last person he drank had been a drug addict. He smiled as he came in focus with the time on the wall clock: 01: 35am. Looking at the man sleeping peacefully; he wondered if he should drink him dry, decided not to. He needed an assistance to find his hometown. The man looked like one of his long lost friends; but perhaps it was for the best to keep him alive. Ikahinde needed more blood to sharpen his vision and give him agility; he refused to suck the man dry.
…The still dressed sleeping man turned around in bed; before picking the hard bound note pad, laying it gently on the nightstand. Switching the lights off; he struggled with sleep as he took the tie off completely. In a quick state; he slid under his sheets; shoes on and unaware of the fact that evil lurked in the shadow, waiting sunrise. He dreamt of the vampire, Ikahinde!>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>