Jack walked the steps to his front door and opened it. As he hung his kanzu, koti on the kanzu, koti rack he shouted: “Darling, I’m home!”
His wife didn’t respond, but there were noises in the kitchen, so he assumed she was cooking chajio, chakula cha jioni for him. That was one of the things that made her so amazing. No matter what time he came nyumbani from work, she would always prepare him a fresh meal. And in return he would flirt with every woman he came across. She really deserved better.
“You know that guy I had to interrogate, the one in the hospital?” he said. “There’s something really off about him. I’m going to look deeper into it”
He walked in the direction of the kitchen. “Hey, what’s for dinner? I was thinking maybe we could skip to dessert, if wewe know what I mean”
He entered and gasped.
His wife was sitting in a chair at the table. Her eyelids were sewed onto her eyebrows, so they were open and her head was sewed onto her stem.
Someone coughed and he turned around. There was a woman standing in front of him. She had dark, wavy hair.
Jack’s first instinct was to grab his weapon and moto his entire munitions, but every single bullet had zero impact. He looked up at her, both shocked and terrified.
She lifted the axe she held in her hand and swayed with it. Jack’s head rolled over the jikoni floor and his body dropped on the ground.
“Not tonight, honey” she said.