Post by I AM ETIMBOK (@iametimbok)

THE FEEDING RITUAL — PART 1 OF 4

For two years, I have been married to Chief Obinna in Banana Island.

To the world, I am the luckiest woman in Lagos.

He bought me a Mercedes, built a beautiful house for my parents, and gave me almost everything money could buy.

But our luxurious life came with one terrifying rule.

The Feeding Ritual.

Every evening at exactly 7:00 PM, I had to cook a fresh pot of soup for my husband.

I was never allowed to buy the meat from the market myself.

Every Sunday at exactly 5:00 AM, a silent driver would arrive at our back gate and leave a heavy, padlocked steel cooler.

He never spoke.

He never waited.

He would simply leave.

On our wedding night, Chief gave me one warning.

“Cook it until it falls off the bone,” he said.

Then he looked directly into my eyes.

“But never let a single piece touch your tongue.”

I laughed because I thought he was joking.

He wasn't.

“If you taste it,” he continued, “our wealth dies, and your soul pays the debt.”

For two years, I obeyed.

I seasoned the soup only by smelling the steam.

I never tasted the meat.

Chief would eat alone, behind the locked door of his study, in complete silence.

And strangely, the more faithfully I followed the rule, the richer we became.

Every week, another multi-million-naira contract.

Every month, another business deal.

His wealth seemed to have no limit.

Then last week, Chief's biggest business rival mysteriously disappeared on the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway.

His abandoned car was found by the roadside.

But the man was nowhere to be found.

Chief barely reacted when he heard the news.

The next morning, he simply told me:

“Don't worry about things that don't concern you.”

I didn't ask any more questions.

Then Sunday came.

At exactly 5:00 AM, the cooler arrived.

But this time, something was different.

It was twice as heavy as usual.

I struggled to drag it into the kitchen.

Something shifted inside.

THUD.

I froze.

Then—

THUD.

I stared at the padlock.

“What is inside this thing?”

There was no answer.

That evening, I prepared the soup as usual.

But while it boiled, an unusually sweet aroma filled the kitchen.

I couldn't explain it.

The smell was so rich and delicious that my mouth began to water.

I lifted the lid and stirred the pot.

My spoon struck something hard.

I pulled it out.

A ring.

A beautiful emerald signet ring.

My heart stopped.

I had seen that ring before.

It belonged to Chief's missing business rival.

I dropped it back into the soup.

My hands began to shake.

I should have called someone.

I should have run.

Instead, I stood there staring at the boiling pot.

And then temptation won.

I remembered Chief's warning.

Never taste the meat.

But the aroma was driving me crazy.

I picked up a tiny piece with my spoon.

Just one piece.

I put it into my mouth.

The instant it touched my tongue, every light in the house went out.

Complete darkness.

I froze.

Then I heard a voice.

Not from behind me.

Not from outside.

From inside the boiling pot.

“Amara…”

My entire body went cold.

The voice sounded like someone crying.

Then it whispered:

“Why did you eat me too?”

Before I could scream, I heard the sound of a key turning in the front door.

Chief was home.

And his footsteps were coming toward the kitchen.

TO BE CONTINUED…

If you were Amara, would you run out of the house or hide?

Comment PART 2 if you want to know what happens next. 👇🏽

0 likes · 0 comments · 0 shares