Revenge mission - S01 E08

Story 3 weeks ago

Revenge mission - S01 E08

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 8

Revenge Mission — Episode Eight

Every morning, Purity left the Dankwa mansion with a calm face and a soft smile. She told Madam Rita she was going to the market, and nobody suspected her. Instead of the market, she walked straight into Tamale town, moving past the busy traders and the shouting sellers until she reached the small hotel where the children were kept. The boys always ran to her with joy when she entered. “Aunty Purity, you came again,” they said, hugging her legs. She smiled warmly at them and said, “Yes, I will always come.” She carried food, fruit, and water for them every day.

Inside the small hotel room, Purity bathed the children with warm water. She rubbed their hair gently and wiped their faces with a clean towel. She had bought them new shirts, trousers, and small sandals from the market. The boys laughed when they saw the bright colours of their clothes. “Thank you, Aunty Purity,” one of them said, while the other smiled shyly. She dressed them carefully, as if they were her own. They played on the bed and sang songs, and Purity watched with quiet eyes. Their laughter filled the room, but deep inside her heart, she remembered her secret mission.

After bathing and feeding them, Purity told the boys to sit quietly while she spoke with them. They always asked the same question. “Aunty Purity, when are we going home? We miss Mama and Papa.” Their small voices carried sadness and longing. Purity smiled and placed her hand on their heads. “You will go home very soon. Just be patient. For now, you must stay here and wait for me.” The boys nodded and trusted her completely. Their innocence made her chest painful for a moment, but she quickly pushed the thought away. She reminded herself that her plan was bigger than their tears.

When the children slept in the afternoon, Purity sat beside the bed and watched them breathe softly. Their faces looked peaceful, untouched by the wickedness of adults. She touched the bag of money under the mattress and whispered to herself, “This is only the beginning.” After they woke, she bought them fried rice and meat from a small shop near the hotel. The children ate happily and even danced around the room with laughter. Purity clapped for them, smiling outwardly. But inside her heart, she remembered her mother’s death and her father’s betrayal. She promised herself that her revenge must not fail.

After spending hours with the children, Purity always returned to the mansion. She moved around the house like a loyal servant. Madam Rita noticed her dedication and often said, “Purity, you are such a good girl.” Dankwa hardly noticed her, his face always dark with sorrow. He spent his days calling the police, visiting friends, and praying for his children’s return. His eyes looked weak, and his voice often shook with pain. Purity watched him silently, her heart swelling with strange satisfaction. Every time she saw his grief, she felt stronger. She knew he was slowly breaking, and she enjoyed every moment.

Days turned into weeks, and still no word came from the kidnappers. Dankwa kept waiting for a phone call that never came. Madam Rita fasted and prayed every night, asking God for mercy. The mansion became a place of silence and sorrow. Neighbours visited less often, afraid to bring more pain. Purity played her role well, moving quietly, cooking meals, and cleaning rooms. At night she smiled to herself, remembering the children sleeping peacefully in the hotel while their parents cried at home. “This is justice,” she whispered. “They will never know what it feels like until they taste their own medicine.”

One evening, Purity returned to the hotel with new clothes for the boys. She bought them small toys too—a football and a car. Their eyes shone with excitement. They hugged her tightly. “Aunty Purity, you are the best!” they said with joy. Purity laughed and played with them for hours. But when they asked again, “When will we go home?” her smile faded for a second. She knelt beside them and whispered, “Very soon. But you must trust me.” The boys nodded, believing her words. Their trust cut her like a knife, yet she refused to change her heart. Her revenge was stronger.

Weeks passed, and Purity grew more comfortable with her double life. In the hotel, she was a loving aunt, caring for the children with tenderness. In the mansion, she was a quiet maid, serving her enemies while enjoying their pain. Each day she became bolder, more confident that her secret was safe. The kidnappers had vanished, leaving no trace, and no one suspected her. She often sat in her small corner of the mansion, smiling to herself as she listened to Dankwa argue with the police. She told herself that grief was only the beginning. More pain was yet to come.

At night, Purity lay on her bed and dreamed of her mother. She saw her mother’s face pale and broken, lying on the cold floor after Dankwa’s wickedness. Tears filled her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. “I will not cry anymore,” she whispered. “I will make him cry forever.” She looked at the ceiling and planned her next steps. She had enjoyed watching his sorrow long enough. It was time to move forward. Her heart grew harder, her eyes sharper. She knew the final stage was close. She told herself she had come too far to stop now.

One morning, Purity sat alone in the hotel room while the children played with their football. She looked at them quietly, then turned her eyes toward the bag of money. She thought of the mansion, the sorrowful eyes of Dankwa, and the broken spirit of Madam Rita. A smile spread across her face. She stood up slowly and said in a low voice, “It is time. I cannot wait any longer.” She closed her eyes and whispered again, firmer this time, “It’s time to make my next move. It’s time to finish what I started.” The room felt colder after her words.

To be continued

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