PROPHET OF DOOM

embers every

swallowed the feet of the dead and the living alike. Trees bowed under the weight of

rling around his toes like the fingers of his ance

had no

res of thick grassland, wild shrubs, and rich, dark soil passed down th

was a

ft, their questions unanswered, their curiosity sated with blood. The

h the last prayer spoken at his parents' funeral, m

had guarded it like a lioness guards her cub. They had believed in legacy, in justice. They

ey wer

with words. They had c

t night. He had watched through the wooden slats of the barn as his father was dragged into the mud

when it struck the stone steps. A *crack*.

e trees. Through the n

ever loo

eturned one final time-not

something cold. He dug, slowly, uncovering the metal locket his mother alwa

e h

and whispered, "I swear to

ears E

r the village of Umukaru, casting golden rays over the tall maize and yam fie

cassava in the lower fields when the black Mercedes pul

pist who donated money to every village school and secretly funneled cocaine through the river ports. And the third

er with kindness. They didn't

ike had said. "It could

le," Tobias replied. "

ouncilman said with a smir

e only man in the village wh

de an exam

o

led through the trees like a ghost denied peace. He rose, clutchi

t still be watching. And the council-if they knew he ha

othing but the blood in his v

ly-but toward a single spe

in the

half-buried in mist, surrounded by stone crosses and cracked

His clothes were soaked. His face was hollow. When the old priest, **Father

prophecy

whispered. "You've come far

contin

of Shadow

the cold of the rain. It crept into Kane's skin slowly, h

overed in the air like forgotten prayers. A crucifix loomed above the altar, bu

n death," the priest said softly as he poured warm

" he r

are your pa

silence

ea

inch. He simply nodded,

and trembling. "Over land... our land. They wa

ve nod. "The Devil's poison has

eyes. "You

tea. "You'll stay here. This church has long been forgotten by thos

asked, eyebr

c looked up a

hat you were

bled in

were not for peace, but for vengeance. He studied scripture, Latin, and ancien

e confession booth, and met with strange visitors late at night-war veterans, ex-soldiers,

estions. But he rem

ane found himself staring at the crucifix again. The eye

e me do?" he whispe

tened around his

N

im was not quench

birthday, Father Dom

**old revolver**, polished but aged, an

he book. Insi

s of

Drug dealers. Ass

ut even good men are hunted. He knew they would come for him, and he a

names, each one a

ice," he said. "I

into his eyes and ga

i. He was once a soldier. Now... he builds weapons a

would he

cil more than you do. And

at night, wind whipping through his

d at the door, a sh

ome a prophet of doom... you must fi