It had to be a dream. She wanted it to be. Amanda prayed. She hoped she woke up from this horrible nightmare; closing her tears-soaked eyes_ more tightly. She hesitated in opening up her eyes; scared for what reality laid before her.

Slowly, with a trepid-laden emotion, whilst she sobbed, Amanda struggled to open her eyes. Her left eye twitched. She did. The sight of it was terribly brutal; nauseating and barbaric. The blood spill on the marbled floor was fresh, and counting drops still slid down the victim’s neck, in the late hours of the afternoon.

This was no other, but her mother, the only family she knew, lying dead in the pool of her blood; stark naked. She tried to scream, but a broad hand covered her mouth from behind, pulling her to lean on his broad chest. She hadn’t noticed his presence in here when she opened the door. He’d hidden behind the door.

“Don’t you dare scream,” a voice warned.

Amanda recognised the voice. She quickly turned to be sure. It was him; her mother’s lover. He had a two-edged little sword in his right hand, drenched with blood.

“If you don’t want to end up like that thing…” he pointed to the lifeless body in the pool of blood, “on the floor, you have got to do exactly as I say.” He grabbed her arm, dragged her toward the sofa in the living room. He was naked.

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“Please don’t kill me,” Amanda begged, bringing her butt to the sofa, looking into his face whilst she tried to avoid seeing the thing between his legs.

His eyes settled on her chest. The freshness of her cleavage had his eyes engrossed momentarily. “Whether you’ll live or not, is your choice.” He ran the tip of the sword on her neck, sliding it down to her chest. “You want to know why I did this to her,” he looked at the body on the floor. Amanda was whimpering. “She cheated on me,” he said, brought the sword to her chin, lifting her jaw with it. “Did you hear what I just said? Your mother cheated on me, despite all I’ve done for her.” He laughed. “She took me for a fool.” He took a step backward. “How could she?” He shouted.

“Please don’t kill me,” Amanda pleaded.

“Take off your clothes,” he demanded. “Your mother cheated on me, so I’m going to cheat on her with her own daughter.”  He moved the knife to her throat. Amanda hesitated. “Take off your dress now!” He pressed the tip of the sword to her throat.

Scared for what the knife was about doing to her throat, Amanda reached to her buttons, undoing her top and shedding tears. She’d never known a man. She’d lived a chaste life, keeping herself and praying a sweet lucky man finds her worthy on her wedding night. She was twenty-one, and still a virgin. But now she had to make a choice between her life and her virginity.

Life or virginity. How would she allow this monster who hacked her mother to death, to reap the fruit she’d laboured so hard to grow in this corrupted world? Amanda would rather die. She’d taken off her silk purple top, leaving her bra. Her assailant who’d already reached his left hand to her skirt, tearing it off, didn’t seem to have a problem with her bra.

Amanda watched him tear her under-pant. Tears had not seized to flow down her eyes. She positioned herself on the sofa as she thought he would want it.

“Good girl,” he said, bringing his body to her genital, “If you keep on being obedient, you’ll live.”

Amanda looked at him, and with a skilled brusqueness, kicked up with her knee, hitting his big balls severely. He wailed sharply. He moved his left hand to his balls whilst the right one searched for the knife that had fallen to the floor. Amanda had already escaped, dashing through the door and shouting for help.

The psychopath was caught by an angry mob who almost killed him before the police arrived at the scene and took him away.

Two Moths Later

Amanda’s mother was buried five days ago, and sympathisers who’d been here with her whilst she mourned, had all left today, leaving her alone in the house. She invited Marcus to her place to pass the night, and help her through the fears, the terrible picture of her mother’s death and the monster who’d almost raped her, which still remained a big lump in her head, too large to forget.

Marcus had been her friend for long, and she considered him a brother. Her late mother knew him. She trusted him. Amanda had never had a good sleep since her mother died. She barely slept thirty minutes every night, but this night, after Marcus’s jokes and encouragement, and his presence, she was able to sleep deeply.

In the dead cold night while she slept, she felt someone’s hands on her body. She tried to resist him, but whilst she struggled to get him off her body, his surreptitious move on her whilst she slept had given him a physical advantage.

Amanda threw her arms and legs, fought the best she could, but that was not enough to stop his bestiality. Marcus got into her. The sharp pain was hell, and the thought that she was being raped by the boy she trusted with her life, ate her up. She cried whilst he raped her.

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“Marcus, why?” she cried in the room glowing with white lights from the energy saving bulb, hating herself for inviting him here to keep her company.

“I’m sorry,” Marcus said, staring at the blood on her genital, after spilling his climax in less than two minutes. “I didn’t know you were still a virgin truly.”

Amanda wept bitterly. The one thing she saved from that monster who was now resting behind bars at police detention facility whilst he waited to be charged to court, was tonight taken away from her by her closest friend.  

Amanda hated Marcus and discontinued her friendship with him. Now she was alone. The times have become really painful to her, and she just couldn’t bear to live in her mother’s flat alone. This evening, she moved out.


Amanda ran, from one corner of the room to the other, dodging from the aged man. Alhaji Yekini, an Imam of a nearby Mosque, was her mother’s closest neighbour even though they shared different faiths. Another night of horror was about to bare its fangs on her raw.

She’d explained her fears about living in her mother’s mini-flat to him when he came to check on her earlier today. He’d offered her a room in his three bedroom flat to stay for the time being, whilst she tried to leave the past behind, and since his two daughters that used the room were far away in school.

“Please, Sir, I beg you in the name of God, don’t do this,” Amanda pleaded.

“You think I’m too old for you, right?” He asked. “I can still perform very well, even better than those young boys.” He took off his singlet, throwing it to wherever it chose to fall. “Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy me,” he added, pulling down his short.

Amanda stood. She suddenly found courage. “Alhaji,” she said, “If you don’t stop this nonsense right now, I’ll scream so your wife can hear.” She was succinct. He paused. He looked into her face. “Not only your wife, your son too” Amanda continued; “I’m sure both of them will rush in here.”

He was quiet. He pulled his short up, and reached for his singlet on the floor. He made towards the door, paused and looked back over his shoulder. He continued to the door and opened it. He turned, standing by the door. “First thing in the morning, I want you out of my house.” He went out of the room, slamming the door behind.  


Pastor Duke, a tall bulky man, wore the garment of holiness. Amanda and her late mum, and all members of his church revered him. The name Pastor Duke was a song on their lips and had more mentions than Jesus’ name among them.

Amanda had grown to know Pastor Duke as the only man he could adopt for a father, and she treated him like one. Her late mum trusted him with her secrets. She was here at the pastor’s wife’s invitation, after sharing with the deaconess, her ordeals and fears to sleep in her mother’s apartment.

Amanda trusted the pastor, and slept this night without fear of sexual harassment.

Alas, in the late hours of the night, she felt something ran over her thigh. She moved her hand there but felt nothing, and then turned; groggy. A minute or two later, she felt heavy hands pinned her to the bed. Her eyes flicked open. It was her pastor violently raping her in the late hours of the night.

Amanda could not shout. She didn’t want to be responsible for a controversy that would destroy the church, and especially the pastor’s home; she would not cause his wife pains.  She wept.


Amanda is now four months pregnant, and doesn’t really know who is responsible among the rapists. She cries on with an unsure future, having no one to trust. She cries all day with no one there to comfort her. She once had hopes for a beautiful future, and now she feels all that have been dashed, taken away from her by an evil world.  

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Amanda’s unfortunate story is one of countless evils currently prevailing in our society.  Her story is not to entertain you, but to draw your attention to the wrongs going on around us, which unfortunately, most of us now consider to be normal. Can we not see how insane this world has become? People kill at the slightest provocation, and for no reason at all.

Sexual bestiality among humans is unprecedented. There is no one to trust; a friend is not to be trusted, neither some spiritual leaders are to be trusted.

Rape cases are increasing on daily basis. Grandfathers raping granddaughters; fathers raping underage daughters (as low as four [4] months old); brothers raping sisters or cousins; do we really see that the world is in chaos? How we move on as though everything is normal is what is quite difficult for one to understand.

My fear is the future for the next generation and the world they would be left in. What is the hope? How do we save the world from this fast rising insanity? What’s really the fate of the girl child in this insane world?  

© Skyfoxx Krys


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