Timothy knew sleeping was the least of his worries as he brought the bottle of McDonnell’s to his mouth the fifth time. It was three o’clock in the morning and he also knew most Marine Brothers Society initiates would be doing something similar to what he was presently doing, wherever they were.

His apprehension seemed to escalate when he noticed his Marine Brothers Society katana was not on the wooden rack, after his invisible double had returned from the silvery orb. He wished drunkenness would lull him to sleep, so he wouldn’t think about the consequences of what had just happened.

He brought the bottle to his mouth the sixth time and cursed himself for contracting only one assassin to get rid of me. He thought about his money, cars, company, girlfriends, investments and stocks, but didn’t think about penury.

I woke up on the altar the next morning to see Boma kneeling beside me, peering into my face like a nurse.

“Hope you’re better?” she whispered.

“Let’s go home…it’s all over,”