No Blessed ✓

Do You Believe In Monsters?

Mikel was already in a taxi and on his way to Nuroh Inc. when Tyler called him back.

“Oh,” he said in mock anger as he swiped the green icon to the left, “now you have time for me?”

“I was busy,” his brother replied, in a tone laced with impatience. “Why did you call me?”

“At least ask how I'm doing. This is the first time we've spoken in three weeks.”

A burgeoning sigh came from the other end. “Fine. Mikel, how are you doing? Are you sleeping well? Eating well?”

Mikel's brow crinkled with humour, his lips stretched in a grin. “Can't you say it without sounding like a wronged housewife?”

“I do not have time for this.”

“Fine,” Mikel relented and tapped his knees excitedly, a puppy-ish intone to his voice. “I got a job offer.”

“You've been getting job offers since you were named the institute's best graduating student. Can you be a little more specific? Was it Accel? You were hoping to get one from Accel.”

“Well yes, but this one is even better,” his grin widened even though Tyler couldn't see him. “I got one from Nuroh Inc., you know, the mega gaming company.”

The line began to crack and Mikel pulled the phone away from his ear. “Hello? Tyler? Can you hear me?”

There was no response and a brief crackling sound filtered out of the speakers before the line went dead. Mikel looked at his phone in disbelief and irritation. There was no signal.

Slightly annoyed, he slipped his phone into his pockets as the taxi came to a stop outside the gates of Nuroh Inc. Tall and imposing, they dwarfed the borrowed vehicle.

“Here,” he handed the driver the fare and got out of the car, taking his shoulder bag with him. As he walked past the revolving doors inside the building, he found himself inside a large hall, embellished with state-of-the-art decorations.

Several nature based paintings adorned the white unstained walls, a collection Mikel recognized were from a renowned Nigerian artist, and an opulent set of black leather chairs called to him from their different positions in the room. To the left was a large realistic sculpture of a tiger plated with what seemed like gold.

He whistled softly under his breath. Now this was money. It was a minimalistic design but gave off the feeling it had been intended for: power.

“Hello, sir? Can I help you?” a voice, abrasive and formal, called out to him. Mikel started, turning around to face a short, freckled woman, her blonde hair in a prim coiffure.

“I'm looking for Mr. Bishop.” He walked to the marble tabletop she sat behind, resting his elbows against it.

She didn't seem convinced as she looked him over with sharp eyes. “I see. Do you have an appointment?”

An appointment? Mikel wasn't sure if his phone call the night before classified as an appointment.

“I'm not sure. Could you ring him up and tell him Mikel Ark is waiting? I'm sure he's expecting me.”

Her eyes lit up as he mentioned his
name, and the lines on her face softened instantly. “You're Mikel Ark?”

At his nod, she gave a sweet smile. “Ah, yes. Mr. Bishop does have a meeting with you but something came up, and he had to leave. However, his assistant will show you around the place until he comes back. It won't be too long now.”

Mikel just nodded again as she picked up a sleek white telephone and dialled a number.

“Hello, Praise... yes Mr. Bishop's guest has arrived... he's waiting... okay, thank you.”