Dream Reaper

Posted: October 25, 2011 in Uncategorized

*Cleaning cobwebs and dust from blog*

Hey everyone. I won’t bore you will a long excuse for why I haven’t been posting (actually, when you have professors like mine, you won’t have time to shit sef). Instead, I have a story for you. 

Been trying out a new style of writing actually and this is my first major post ever since I started writing like this. This story was inspired by the Frank Ocean song ‘Bedtime Story’. You all have to download that song, it’s awesome. Sha, sha, here it is. Comments and criticisms are greatly needed and appreciated. 🙂 



3:32 am
I turn away from my clock and face my ceiling. I’ve counted each and every sect and facet in my ceiling. I’ve counted millions and millions of sheep. I’ve worded out all the lyrics to my favorite songs. Read 126 books (I counted). Nothing works.

I can’t sleep.

I haven’t been able to sleep for the past 2 weeks. I looked it up and read that after ten days, I should be dead. I pinch myself from time to time, making sure I’m still in this world and not dreaming. I have tried several medications, acupuncture, massages but still, my eyes just won’t close.

Doctors have no clue what’s wrong with me. One suggested I should place myself in a coma-like state so that my brain can rest and rejuvenate. Even after 10 hours, the charts show that my brain activity was still the same, not decreasing or trying to rest. I had no REM or NREM (rapid eye movement and non-rapid eye movement which are the stages of sleep). My EEG levels where fine. In other word, my eyes were just closed. No sleep or rest at all.

What should I do this night? Should I write another play? Maybe read my new order of books. I have so many possibilities. So much time on my hands. My company went public on the stock market and it blew up. I made so much money that I retired as the CEO. Now I wish I had something to occupy my mind.

I had something before through.

She looked like Yemaya in a pair of Seven Jeans and Loubs. Fair, beautiful with golden brown hair and striking green eyes. . She was half black American, half Spanish. She was everything a middle aged man like me needed. An escape from the real world. My wife and children were always globetrotting and spending my money as fast as I could make it. She was my personal slice of heaven.

But now she was gone. Three weeks ago, she called it off. Said she couldn’t stand what I was doing to a fellow woman. I offered her everything; money, clothes, a new flat and even two new cars. She returned it all and disappeared.

Gone without a trace.

I’m in love with her. I don’t think she knows how much she means to me. I tried letting her know it wasn’t all about the sex. I showed her the other side of me; beyond the stone wall I had built. My wife attempted to climb it. She got over it but with her cheating and ways, she never got a chance to peek into the royal chambers.

Now my nights are filled with no sleep and thoughts about her. I keep counting the seconds, 1,209,600 of them to be exact. I keep counting the time until I will be able to hold her again in my arms. I keep hoping that one night, before begin my rituals, she will crawl into bed with me and sing me a lullaby. And then finally, I shall be able to rest.



I am so so so tired.

I don’t understand it anymore. It’s as if my body thinks it’s night all the time. I fell asleep at a fricking board meeting!

Lucky for me, I am one of the agencies’ top closers so I was just let off with a warning. I was also allowed to go home and rest. I do need it. These past few weeks have been so tasking. I’ve been working on the Murray account and getting Jonathan Murray, the CEO of the one of the world’s biggest oil and gas company, to sign with us has not been an easy task. It’s been grueling but the nice check in the mail will be worth it.

The driver was waiting for me and flashed me a polite smile. I’ll probably have a nap in the car before I get home. I don’t understand this sudden tiredness all the time. Apart from being late to work for the past two weeks, I’ve just been falling asleep in random places. While on the bus, on the line to get coffee and even when I was walking to get ginger from the food produce store. No amount of coffee helps. It’s becoming a huge problem for me.

The car pulled up in front of my building and I took the stairs. That should jolt me awake a bit. But even with the little jog upstairs to the fourth floor, I still yawned and felt sleepy. This was getting out of hand. I would have to see a doctor about it. Maybe I was having that weird disease I saw on that show ‘House’.

My apartment was nice and cozy. I flopped on the couch and arranged myself into a fetal position when I heard a noise from my kitchen.

I suddenly stood up and picked up the baseball bat that I kept by my door for moments like this. I had a year of karate so I was confident that I could at least stun the intruder and call the police.

mi querida’

I recognized that voice. I lowered the bat to the floor and I ran into the kitchen. My father was there cutting onions and smiling.


“Sueña, how have you been doing?”

“Don’t do that again papa! I had a bat in my hands already!”

“Don’t mind me. I missed my daughter and I decided to make the trip down here to see you.”

“Awww papa! And I see you are already making dinner.”

“Yes mi querida. I am preparing your favorite, paella. Go change and wash. By the time you are done, food will be ready.”

mi querida. My darling. This is what he has been calling me ever since I’ve been born. He called my mother mi alma. My soul. They were so different yet so attached to each other. They met while he was on a holiday to America. She was a poor but beautiful black American woman while he was a rich and influential Spaniard. As my father said to me every time he told me the story, ‘our eyes connected and our souls fused.’

After a long shower, I came out to meet the wonderful meal of paella laced with chicken. As we ate, me and my father talked and laughed. He dropped in time to time like this and it was refreshing.

When we were done, he made coffee and we moved to the living room. We were talking about work and I mentioned how tired I was when he suddenly stopped me mid-sentence.

“Did you say you have been feeling so tired lately?”

“Yes papa. But it’s nothing. I’ve been so busy lately. I’ll take the day off tomorrow.”

His face suddenly changed. Something was up.

“What is it papa?”

“Do you know what your name means?”

“Beautiful. Mama told me.”

“Your name is a corrupted word. It literally means sleep.”

“So what papa? My name is fine either way. “

He looked worried and continuously shook his head. I’ve never seen him like this before. What was the connection between my name and me being so tired?

“Papa, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

“You are a súcubo.”

“A what?”

“A succubus.”

“Papa, you have been watching too many episodes of X-files. I’m very normal.”

“NO Sueña! Listen to me!”

Papa had never shouted at me before. I have never seen this look on his face before. I was confused and worried. I decided that listening to him was the best option here.

“Papa, what were you saying?”

“You are a Succubus. You survive on the life force of other humans, mostly men. It’s been in our family for centuries now. I didn’t think I could carry it and give it to you. When your mother gave birth to you, your grandmother made sure you had the name ‘Sueña’ to represent your heritage. I never knew you would get it … It was just a name!”

My father was rocking back and forth now. Tears had started escaping from his eyes. I was too confused to accept. I tried touching him but he resisted and pulled away.

“There are different types but yours is particular.” He continued. “You take the ability for the men to sleep and use it to rejuvenate and rest. After you are filled ….”

“What papa? What happens?”

“The men die.”

I sat there in shock and confusion. This could not be true. I was normal. Just a normal woman. I didn’t believe in such. I started thinking about all my exes and if any of them had dropped dead. My father was possibly overreacting.

“Answer me!”

Papa’s voice brought me out of my thoughts.

“What is it papa?”

“Have you been with any man recently? Have you allowed a man to fall in love with you?”

My mind went to Kola immediately. When I broke it off with him, he was practically in tears. I couldn’t take what he was doing to his wife. I couldn’t be with a married man. Even though I loved him with my heart and soul, I had to leave him. I had to find my own and not be attached to someone who already belonged to another.

I stood up and started to the door.

“Sueña, where are you going?”

“I have to see someone.”

“It may be too late.”

“Papa, I just want to check on him. He will be fine when I get there.”


One week later

Kola’s funeral was a small one. The young woman who cried the hardest was said to be his mistress. She looked otherworldly with her long brown hair and green eyes. The wife didn’t care though. She knew she would inherit all that Kola left behind. She would live a comfortable life with her boyfriend and her children would grow up well.

At the end when everyone was gone, she stood there staring at the freshly covered grave. Her tears never ceased. Her father came and stood next to her and held her hand.

“What did the reports say?”

“He … he died in his sleep.”

“Did he?”

She looked up to her father and back to the tombstone.

“He died in my arms.”

“You made it? I thought he would be gone by the time you got there.”

“He …. He said he loved me papa. He said he was tired of waiting. He was tired of waiting to hear his lullaby, his bedtime story.”

“Sueña ….”

“Papa, he’s gone. And it will forever be my fault.”

He started walking away when he heard her shout out loud like she was in tremendous pain.

“Sueña, are you okay?”  He rushed over to where she was doubled over in pain.

“My body … I ache. All over.”

He started shaking and stood up. He spoke in a little voice as if talking was bringing him pain.

“It has started again.”

“What has papa?”

He sighed and tears formed in his eyes.

“You need to feed again.”


  1. Pha't says:

    Ive always found tales of succubi quite intriguing. Nice one

  2. ibetapassmynebo says:

    Hian. . .
    Loool at Sucubo. . .

  3. Nice…….a different blend to d horror story. Succubi get no love 😦

  4. bolouere says:

    Errrhhhmmn!its my first time here.do I get a maltina?
    Nice,intriguing!I love the end too.she’s sure gon have to feed soon.who runs the world?

  5. afrosays says:

    I am an insomniac, we’re perfect for insh other!

  6. Fareeda says:

    Nice twist!

  7. Genesis says:

    Half Black American, Half Spanish, green eyes… Succubus or no, she Can GEIT EEET. 🙂 Sleepless nights ko, Sleepless morning ni. The Succub spirit must not have heard about awon Baba Ishawuru and sons in Ibadan. Oni fe fi Pencil ya were 😀 Nice Post Dee (Y)

  8. dhamyhan says:

    Love eet

  9. @trafels says:

    with the green eyes & all…she will definitely get it (Succubus tho…) but no fallin in love…nice post (y)

  10. Sirkastiq says:

    Good style Miss dee, I think you should explore it more. Afterall, its our desire to be better (Y)

  11. Slim says:

    “I need to feed again…”


  12. taiofierce says:

    Well written! Although humans do not know the full power of my kind! Nice try 🙂

  13. 0latoxic says:

    I had no idea what succubi were before I read this. I’m not sure I’d ever even heard or seen the word before I saw it in @weird_oo’s profile, so for me this is not just entertaining but informative and educative. Plus the writing style, I really like.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s