Through the Hurdle

Frank appeared right his living room, and the he walked to one of the cushions and sat down. He was filled with mixed emotions now. He was filled with joy that the immortal life had been him so for formidable, untouchable by mere mortals. He loved the feeling of power, the feeling that he could take on the entire world of mortals and come out victorious. And it also meant that he would experience no difficulty in eliminating his human enemies. This feeling was intoxicating, giving Frank a strange sense of purpose.

But there was also the presence of a particular kind of sadness that overwhelmed, sapping at the base of his mind. It came from the realization that Jenna could well have been captured by Matthew and Pa Mitchel.

"Damn!" he spat, "I can't let them win?"

But what was he going to do now? How could he ascertaim if she was still safe or not? And why was he so bothered? What was all this about?

Frank stood up and trudged to the bathroom. He removed his clothes and turned on the shower.

"What's happening to me?" he groaned.

The water falling on his skin seemed to seep into his body through the pores of his skin. The water was cold, very cold, reminding him of death. He knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that he would die if he allowed himself to drown underwater. And that death would bring to end all of his miseries. But Frank knew he was ready to die. Not now, not ever. That would be nothing but cowardice and he wasn't a coward. That would be him backing down, cowering in the face of his enemies, fleeing, letting them have the final laugh. He would not do anything like that, ever! He would stay and he would fight. He had a mission. The hunt for wicked, evil people was still on. If that was his destiny, then that wasn't a problem, as long as he would get his revenge.

Frank realized, with profound sadness, that he had allowed Jenna to distract him from his mission, his purpose. He had allowed a lot of distractions. But it seemed there was nothing he could do about it. Something in him, something he did not know and which he could not lay a hand on, was compelling him to protect Jenna. This thing was painfully familiar now. He had felt it for the first time when he discovered that Jenna had been kidnapped by those men in Bonny Island. He did not know what the connection was. He was immortal now, shorn of every noble emotions known to the world of mortals. He had lost his humanity and could not love anyone, including himself. Yet he always felt the overriding need to keep Jenna's from harm's way? Why? What was the connection? Where was it that something always gave within him whenever he thought that something bad had happened to Jenna? Was it because she wss the only one he really loved with every fiber of being when he was still mortal? Or was there something else. Frank knew he had to unravel that mystery one day because a huge part of his existence hinged on it.

A thought occurred to him now. No doubt, the police must have totally left that street in Bariga. He could go back there now, concealing himself nicely with a different attire, and then entering inside Evaia apartment— with knocking— and compel her to tell him about Jenna's whereabouts under duress. Yes, that would work. He must do whatever it would take you find Jenna before Matthew and Pa Mitchel got to her.

He stormed out of the bathroom and ran into his room. He dried his body with a towel and put on a ifferent shirt and trousers. And then he wore very dark sunglasses to prevent himself from being easily recognized. And then he closed his eyes and vanished.

This time he appeared inside the compound, not on the street. He was pleasantly surprised to find no one in the premises of the compound, everyone was indoors and it was quite strange, given that it was just 12:30 P.M. But then it didn't take him much time to twig why. Due to what had happened and an hour ago, everyone knew he had been around and that the police had showed up to nab him. He also knew that the news of his escape must have been known now and that it must have filled everyone with panic, forcing them to lock themselves inside for fear that he could show up anytime again.

Frank started walking to the stairs that led to the upper flow where Evaia's family lived. When he got the mouth of the staircase, he made a solemn promise to himself not to allow himself get angry to the point of shedding blood. He knew that Eva was not an enemy. If anything, she was a good person. She was the only one who had been quite invested in Jenna's wellbeing. Frank decided that he would be gentle towards her.

Instead of going by his initial plan which was to knock down the door and forcibly get tbe truth out of Eva, Frank decided to use a less violent approach. He knocked on the door.

At first, there was no response for more than one minute even door he had knocked very loudly. And when he was about to knock the second time, he heard the thick and hoarse voice of man saying, "Who is there?" Frank could perceive the unmistakable sound of trepidation in that man's voice.

"It's Inspector Moses," he lied. "We are here to ask your wife a few questions regarding our investistigatio."

Frank knew that that was the only way to get them to open the door. He removed his sunglasses as he heard footsteps approaching. The door opened and he saw the worried face of Frederick, Eva's husband.

"Good afternoon, Officer," Frederick said, eyeing him.

"Good afternoon, Mr?"

"Frederick."

"Okay. Good afternoon, Mr Frederick. Can I come in please? I have a few questions to ask your wife. It would help our investigation.

Frederick looked at him askance, and then craned neck and looked behind Frank. His hands was safely on the door knob, ready to shut it.

"I thought you came with other people. You mentioned "we" earlier."

"Oh," Frank smiled awkwardly, "he's outside, talking to those who had seen the killer ok the street an hour ago."

Just then, someone appeared from behind Frederick and when the person saw his face, she yelled and ran back into the house, shouting on top of her voice: Frederick, it's him! It's him! Shut the door now! It's him!"

Frederick's reflexes were good, but they were much slower than Frank's. In one mighty push, he was already inside the house, bowling Frederick down with the force of his entry.

"Please don't kill me! Please don't kill me!" Frederick pleaded.