#DRAGONGOD: Chapter 17


» Click HERE to Read the Preceding Episode (Chapter 16)

» Click HERE to See Other Chapters of the Free Suspense WebNovel If I Was A Dragongod


Teslim led Khalid and the team into the University of Ankara campus on Sunday afternoon.

A black Hyundai jeep whizzed to a sudden stop in front of the monumental dome shaped edifice housing a sturdy frame of white brazen bars already flung open.

The metal gate made a lazy creak as it was about to be swept closed in a moment of deft action.

A neat white Mitsubishi thirty two seater bus pulled to a halt behind with a loud, deafening screech.

Its body had the name marked in midnight blue: ‘BOB MARLEY MEMORIAL POTTERY LTD’.

And just beside the name was the logo.

It was a greyish black silhouette of the bust of Bob Marley; with the head glamourously flung left and the signature dreadlocks all sprawled out in the air.

Ahead of the two vehicles, and behind the grand University gate, a flag was up from the raised hand of a security officer.

‘Hush!’ the officer bawled. His suspicion aroused already, he stepped forward.

The University gate had been tightly guarded ever since the University received an invasion notice from the notorious group, Dragonfire.

The group had its secret logo as a greyish black silhouette of a dragon head flung left; with its signature fire breaths altogether sprawled out in the air.

The logo had gone along with the attack notice Dragonfire published on the University of Ankara’s website at the beginning of everything.

As it did always go with every other past notice.

And that was when Khalid ordered Mark to hack into the University’s website and publish the notice.

As the security officer approached, Kabir stuck out his head from the thirty two seater bus. He was behind the wheels.

There was fury written on his face when he spoke. ‘Hey! What’s going on?’

It was obvious he was yelling at the man.

The officer stepped beside the huge steel horse and knocked on its sleek dark body. ‘Open your boot sir,’ he said.

Teslim manned the rudder and had his boss beside him. He lowered his car window in the moment, reclined his neck against the head rest and held on to the wheel.

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Khalid, bespectacled in a dark shade, raised his wristwatch to his gaze and turned to Teslim just as soon.

‘Oh Director,’ he mumbled, ‘aren’t we running late for today’s shoot? Didn’t you get permission for Ankara Uni as our next location?’

Teslim turned his eyes to Khalid. ‘I’m sorry; it’s my fault. I should’ve introduced myself at the go. I overrated the fact people watch my films in the southwest.

‘I forgot here’s not Lagos where everyone knows your face at the go.

‘So I’ll just do that so we can catch up fast; we’re still lagging behind with not just a few scenes. And thank God we’ve got a good weather this afternoon.’

Khalid mumbled. ‘Okay. Explain to him.’

The security officer’s ears had been tingling. He was curious to see the face of this film director, if perhaps he was also an actor who he was familiar with on TV.

The officer docked his head and took a closer peep as Teslim turned back his face towards him.

Teslim stretched a hand to the officer, and smiled. ‘Erm, Baba… well, I’m…’

The middle aged officer clamped Teslim’s hand with both his own hands and shook it religiously. ‘Ah! I know you on TV. I know you. I know you.’

The middleaged man slipped his hands off and began rubbing them together in a manner that looked like a prayer form; bowing his head several times over.

‘God knows, I’ve seen your films… many of them. Please keep on doing them. We love you here in Ankara… I swear!’

Teslim wore a large smile. ‘Thank you. Keep buying our films, Baba,’ he nodded. ‘We’re on our way to shoot another,’ he squinted.

The officer gasped. ‘Aw… and I’m keeping you waiting unnecessarily! I’m sorry o! Please you can go.’

Teslim stuck his head outside, looked back and returned his eyes to his listener. ‘That white bus behind is our team. We’re together.’

‘No wahala,’ the man gleamed. ‘Both of you… you can go.’

Teslim nodded. ‘Thank you,’ he muttered.

The drivers were given the gate tallies and the two vehicles cruised in.

They headed for the two monstrous hills around the remote and lonely Azikwe Lecture Theatre.

And where Kelvin’s night walks might—or might not—always lead.

◙ ◙ ◙

Teslim and Jordan met that Sunday at night on campus. Around the Students Union Building, the SUB.

Jordan was more excited than the first time he met Teslim in Zaria. It was like a film script to him, the way their paths crossed again.

Jordan told Teslim he’d always thought that if their paths should ever cross again after their first meeting in Zaria; it’d be for a bigger purpose than poetry.

And here it was as a paid screenwriting program with Teslim, Jordan said.

‘I’ve always wanted to give life to my writings. I mean, I’ve always wanted to bring poetry to a state of practicability.

‘And, trust me, this screen writing workshop is just so perfect for my dream. It’s like a door I never knew existed; and suddenly my path leads to it.

‘Meeting you is really great. It’s sort of fulfilling!’

Teslim smiled. ‘Well, I assure you that what you’re to bound to experience is really fulfilling and engaging. It won’t bring just your poetry to life but also everything you’ve always known!’

Jordan couldn’t help dreaming a world of experience hearing this.

The two talked, joked and laughed as time passed.

About twenty minutes of the chatter and talk, Jordan took a quick glance at his wrist watch. And it was about eight in the evening.

He suggested he’d got to be on his way; and Teslim obliged.

Teslim offered to walk Jordan to his car at a nearby park a down the road; so they can chat some more.

Jordan couldn’t be more grateful for his kindness altogether. He’d come to enjoy Teslim’s company and had come to guess there was something great in stock for them both.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have to be with Kelvin he’d have a thing… maybe a poetry collaboration or otherwise.

Perhaps it’d now be a mighty stuff with the great celebrity himself.

‘That’s just fantabulous,’ he mused to himself.

They were a few steps down the road and out under the shade cast by a broken streetlamp. The lamp post, numbered 12, stood in the dark just beside the SUB.

Jordan thought to enagage Teslim with some questions as they walked.

‘Oh I’ve wanted to ask,’ he said, ‘but I hardly know how to put it. I’m not sure I still know how to put this in words but let me just ask it however it comes. That’s okay, right?’

Teslim grunted. ‘Hmm….’

A sturdy, sleek frame black jeep of Hyundai make, pulled out behind them with a rough, screeching sweep.

Jordan was alarmed.

‘Aw! Come on!’ Teslim yelled out, throwing his voice behind them. He pulled Jordan close to him just as soon.

Jordan glanced back. ‘What the…’

Teslim stilled him. ‘Never mind. Ankara Uni is full of those stupid rustlers. So where are we? I think you were going to ask me something…’

‘Yes, that’s right. I was going to ask that…’

Jordan was cut short by the thuds of approaching heels.

He didn’t even hear the car door open or get shut. But he was sure he’d begun to hear footsteps tailing him.

And they certainly would be those guys racing that iron horse to a sudden halt beside them just a moment ago.

Jordan heard Teslim coughed as the former was turning his head to look behind him.

Next, Jordan felt the heavy bang of a large blunt object on the nape of his neck. His sight spun a crazy turmoil-filled whirl in the instance.

He gasped out an unconscious yell.

And everything went blank as his limp frame came slumping to the ground.

He passed out.


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Copyright © 2019 by Kayode Olla

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