There was this online random writing competition where I had to use these four words - "Reluctant, plague, magazine, sleep". This is something I tried out of it!
Aba Oburumu was forced to kneel. Hands tied behind him he fought back, his nerves bulging out at the neck. Only he and his brother, Nalo, remained. With guns pointed at his back and hair yanked to one side, Aba reluctantly gave in. His mother, sister and friends were mercilessly killed. There was blood everywhere - obliquely splattered on the walls, coursing crimson on the road, diluted in the gutter. The strong metallic smell permeated the air, portending death. Tears of loss, anger and fear ran down his cheeks. The mysterious plague robbed him of his dear father barely last week. He knelt hopelessly as the heartless men circled Nalo with shotguns and rifles. One of them kicked Aba from behind and he fell flat on his face. The poking spikes of a shoe crushed his jaw, forcing him to watch Nalo plead for his life. Utterly terrified, Nalo cried his lungs out; hand outstretched calling his brother for help. Aba thrashed furiously on the road and cursed himself. They were outnumbered, he was powerless. The sudden click of a magazine resounded and time froze. Blood oozed from Nalo’s temple; his body went limp, lifeless and he looked every bit asleep. Aba let out an inhuman cry. Hisentire tribe was dead and gone. Another familiar click; his vision blurred and he felt searing pain on the back of his head. He shuddered for one last time, never to wake up again. The Oburumus passed on in a ruthless genocide.
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