Kidnapping Father Christmas: Chapter 10 – Nigerian Christmas Story, Funny, Kidnap Santa Clause, Adventure, Children and Mischief, Free Web Novel, Fabling, Pam
Atutu and Ọ̀gbeni continued to surveil the area around Chukwuma’s house, desperate to locate Oyinbo. They had been asking around, questioning roadside shop attendants if they had seen Father Christmas. Finally, a shopkeeper gave them the information they needed, pointing them to the house where Chukwuma and his friends had been seen leading a dazed and confused Father Christmas.
However, the story they pieced together from the locals was baffling. They couldn’t understand why Oyinbo, supposedly a grown man on a mission, would willingly follow a group of children, or why he was seen running with them like a child himself. Deciding they needed more clarity, they opted to stake out the house.
Atutu, exhausted from the day’s heat and lack of proper sustenance, began to nod off. Ọ̀gbeni, more determined, smacked the back of his head. “No sleep!”
“Make we just go. Hin don eff up. Make we go,” Atutu grumbled, frustration and fatigue getting the better of him. They had been out in the sun all day, and even now, as the sky turned shades of orange with the setting sun, their only sustenance had been a single sachet of water each.
“Mumu,” Ọ̀gbeni hissed, glaring at him. “E be like say you no know say Oyinbo na idiot. If they ask him about us, just one slap and he go talk our history for them.”
“What should we do now?” Atutu asked, now more alert but still wary.
“Let’s watch,” Ọ̀gbeni replied, his voice low and calculated. “One of the children go come out. By night, we go sneak inside, free him or kill him—anyone wey easy pass.”
“Make we waste am. Hin mama no go miss am,” Atutu muttered, yawning again. They fell into silence, keeping their eyes trained on the house as night slowly crept in. Ọ̀gbeni’s hand moved to his pocket, fingers brushing against the cold metal of his gun, preparing for the worst.
Their quiet vigil was interrupted when a police car pulled up in front of Chukwuma’s house. The sight sent a shiver down Ọ̀gbeni’s spine. The police presence seemed to confirm their growing suspicion that Oyinbo was being held and tortured by the authorities, lured into a trap with the children as bait.
They watched, holding their breath, as the policeman entered the house. Moments later, a group of children emerged, waving him off. One of the boys got into the police car, and it drove away. The remaining children whispered among themselves before two of them left, waving goodbye as they headed home.
“We have to kill Oyinbo this night before he kobalizes us,” Ọ̀gbeni said, his voice laced with grim determination.
Meanwhile…
Inside the house, Chukwuma and his brother, Ebuka, were finally alone. Chukwuma’s excitement was palpable as he led his older brother through the house.
“Brother Ebuka, I HAVE A SURPRISE FOR YOU!!” Chukwuma exclaimed, barely able to contain himself.
Ebuka, though intrigued, was also wary. “What?” he asked, sensing something off about his little brother’s excitement.
“Follow me,” Chukwuma said, peeking into the sitting room to make sure the coast was clear before signalling with his torchlight for Ebuka to follow.
“Oya now, are you ready?” Chukwuma asked, his grin widening as he opened the door to the abandoned storehouse.
Ebuka stepped inside, expecting perhaps a new toy or a prank. Instead, the torchlight illuminated the scene before him—a tied-up, lips-sealed, badly bruised Father Christmas.
“1, 2, 3, 4, 5… HOLY FREAKING SHIT! JESUS! WHAT THA! OH MY GOD! THIS BOY HAS KILLED ME!” Ebuka whisper-screamed, his voice trembling with disbelief and horror.
“Shh, they will catch us,” Chukwuma warned, his tone serious, not fully grasping the gravity of what they had done.
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