Even the devil has an origin story. There was a reason why he had become the devil. And that was equally applicable to villains. Every villain had their origin story too.

And in every villain's story, there was another villain. There had to be a reason why they had chosen to be the way they are. And that made it okay to love villains. They were still humans and they deserved to be loved.

Because believe it or not, we were all villains, one way or another.

◈ ━━━━━━━ ⸙ - ⸙ ━━━━━━━ ◈

ＴＷＯ ＹＥＡＲＳ ＥＡＲＬＩＥＲ

Mr. Aloysius had specifically warned Ahmed never to go down to the basement whenever he came over but he had disobeyed that instruction not long after it was given. He didn't know the consequences of what he'd done and how a series of events would be set in motion from there.

After all, he was just a fifteen year who thought Mr. Aloysius was simply hiding something exciting in the basement of his mansion and didn't want them seeing it.

It all started with Ahmed making a new friend. A new friend who's dad happened to be very wealthy. Ahmed enjoyed running away and spending hours at his new friend's house. There was so much to do in the big house but as the days went by, curiosity got the best of Ahmed. He wanted to know what was down in that basement.

Asides the fact that he hadn't seen a real life, Nigerian house with a basement, he wanted to know if it really looked the way it always looked on TV; dark and ominous. He wanted to see if there were monsters down in that basement or if ghosts lurked in the dark.

Ahmed's friend wasn't fully on board with the plan. Junior knew where his father kept the key to the basement. He always saw him going down there and when he asked, Mr. Aloysius would give the silly excuse of having a private office down there. But they weren't kids, they knew that was a big lie to keep them from wondering down there.

Ahmed just wondered how Junior could live there without ever knowing what was down in their own basement. And so one day, Ahmed succeeded in convincing his friend in getting the key.

"We have to be fast because my dad will soon be back," Junior told Ahmed as he handed him the key. Ahmed snatched the key from his hand with a satisfied grin on his face.

With that, they both ran out of the living room and into the poorly lit passageway where the basement door was found at the far end.

Ahmed shoved the key into the keyhole while Junior stood behind him, occasionally turning around to see if anyone was coming. He looked scared while Ahmed looked like he was about to go on an adventure.

The door clicked twice as Ahmed turned the key in the hole. He pushed the door open and they were met with darkness, and a stale smell of sweat and other things that were definitely not pleasant.

Ahmed was the first to walk into the stuffy atmosphere. They couldn't see a thing but at least they could tell that there was a step leading down to the basement. Of course, every basement had a step. It was also a window but it was high up and it simply looked like very thick glass used to seal a rectangular hole. He wouldn't exactly call it a window.

"It's very dark," Ahmed heard his friend whisper behind him as they both walked slowly down the dark stairs, trying not to trip and fall.

"Shh," Ahmed shushed Junior when he thought heard sounds. It sounded like a combination of coughing and wheezing. The horrible odor was getting stronger. "Somebody is here."

Junior made a sound. To Ahmed, it sounded like his friend was getting scared and didn't want to go further. But then they finally got to the bottom of the step and Ahmed could now see a dim light in the corner but he wasn't sure he wanted to turn that corner. It was like something was holding him back.

But then he ignored the voice or whatever feeling that was and walked further around into the massive room with just one fluorescent light in the ceiling.

Ahmed's legs grew weak and his eyes, wide in horror.

Junior was certain that he would piss on himself.

At that moment, the horrible stale smell wasn't even the problem anymore. Ahmed simply wanted to know why Mr. Aloysius had so many women and toddlers in the massive basement hall.

He wasn't sure of what to think. They couldn't be his wives. In fact, they looked like they were dying. They looked helpless.

Women. Babies. Girls...

When the occupants of the basement had noticed the boys standing there, there was a little commotion. Some of them began standing on their feet, babies began crying very loudly and some of them outstretched their hands as though the little boys could be of any help.

Ahmed swallowed. "Junior...wetin-" Ahmed didn't finish his sentence because the tattered looking women began screaming in terror as they stared at the boys. Even the ones who had stood to their feet began running back into a corner.

The cries of the babies became deafening.

Ahmed didn't understand.

They were looking at him and screaming.

Or...wait, it was something behind him.

Ahmed turned around and Junior did the same. His chest began beating more loudly than before.

Standing there was Mr. Aloysius with a gun. A gun pointed at the boys.

The women were still screaming and the babies cried even louder.

"Daddy-"

Mr. Aloysius didn't let his son finish his stammer because the next thing Ahmed saw was the metal gun hitting Junior's face hard. Junior tumbled back and fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Blood ran out of his nose and dripped everywhere.

Mr. Aloysius now faced Ahmed squarely with the gun to his forehead.

"Please...sir-"

"Shut up!" the man thundered and his voice vibrated into Ahmed's bones. He was starting to cry now. Was this how he was going to die? He was shaking and tears mixed with sweat instantly.

The women screaming. The babies crying. Junior wailing on the floor. Mr. Aloysius' loud voice saying something he couldn't register.

"What did I ask you not to do? I gave you a simple instruction and you dared to defy me! You think you're man enough to defy me, right?" Mr. Aloysius yelled and all Ahmed could do was shake his head as the rest of his body trembled. He kept walking back and the man followed him slowly with the gun still pointed to his head.

At some point Ahmed couldn't even hear his heart beat anymore. Even his own heart had given up on him.

"You think you're man enough, is it not?!" Mr. Aloysius kept yelling. "You think you're a man?" he began nodding to whatever he was thinking in his head, "I'll show you what a man does..." He grabbed Ahmed by the neck and made him turn around and face the women.

In one swift movement, he turned the gun to the women hurdled together. There were more than twenty of them and their babies.

The screaming became unbearable when Mr. Aloysius shot at them. They screamed in terror and Ahmed cried like he'd never done before. He wasn't even sure if the man had shot one them but he was sure he heard the thunderous sound of the gun. He was sure Mr. Aloysius had fired.

"Now listen to me! You're going to show this boy what a man's job is. You'll put his manhood to good use and if not!" He yelled. Ahmed wasn't understanding. "If you don't do exactly as I said, I'll blow all your heads off."

And with that, Mr. Aloysius pushed Ahmed with so much force that he found himself on the floor before the women.

Another gun shot and the women rushed Ahmed like a lion attacked its prey.

Ahmed did not understand what was happening until so many hands were pulling at his trousers and his underwear. He screamed, he punched, kicked.

Another gunshot in their direction and Ahmed couldn't hear his own voice anymore.

He didn't have the time to understand what was happening anymore because hands were all over him. He was touched in places he didn't know was possible.

He felt filthy. He was filthy.

Junior was screaming at his father and Mr. Aloysius was still shooting but soon, it all just became background noise and Ahmed was finding it hard to breathe.

He knew what they did to him.

It was something he never thought was possible but it was done to him.

By women.

It might've been ten minutes but why did it feel like eternity? Why were they touching him like that? They did not have the right!

How could he have been so belittled by women?

Ahmed thought it was supposed to be the other way around? Why was he so helpless?

He couldn't tell the difference between the time the women had left him naked on the floor and the time Mr. Aloysius dragged him and Junior out of the basement.

The closest thing he could recall was Mr. Aloysius yelling and waving the gun around as he spoke to them in the living room. The man had threatened to kill Ahmed's family and him too if he ever spoke of what he'd seen but Ahmed wasn't even sure anymore. He was just there. Even the gun didn't faze him anymore.

Ahmed didn't know how it happened but then he was asked to get out. His trouser was wet for some reason and he reeked. But none of it mattered. He just walked mindlessly.

But it didn't end there.

For some reason, he had to go through the backyard. Of course, the big house had an exist through the back.

And that was where Ahmed had seen the girl.

The pregnant girl.

She sat on the ground close to the wall. On that wall, above her, was a window. It took Ahmed time but he soon realized that window was the same one from the basement. Only that it was broken now. But how?

It didn't matter because there was a girl who looked to be no more than seventeen. She was on the ground, heavily pregnant and she was bleeding out.

She looked like she was going insane but passing out at the same time as she sat there, her legs apart and her entire body a mess.

Ahmed wanted to do something but Mr. Aloysius was inside the house, with his gun. He stepped forward but the girl began shaking her head as she sobbed quietly. She didn't want him coming close to her.

She had managed to escape the basement somehow with her pregnancy and now she was just going to sit there and bleed out?

Ahmed felt his stomach churn.

He was still standing in the backyard when he heard Mr. Aloysius yelling again from inside the house. He had to get out of there or the man would come out and shoot the both of them.

The girl was losing her baby for sure but she didn't look like she herself would last longer.

Ahmed had to go.

Ahmed couldn't do anything.

Ahmed ran out of the compound.

Ahmed was sure the pregnant girl died.

◈ ━━━━━━━ ⸙ - ⸙ ━━━━━━━ ◈

Tari swallowed.

"What..." she almost couldn't even hear her own voice anymore. Maybe it was because she hadn't said a word while Ahmed narrated his ordeal. He hadn't looked at her once since he began talking either. They had gone back to the bench when Ahmed began narrating his story.

"Nah that same day my P-man scatter my face," Ahmed added. He still didn't turn to look at Tari.

He was talking about the scar on his face. Amira had told Tari that their father had given Ahmed that scar after he came home late and refused to tell them where he'd been. Mr. Yusuf had slapped Ahmed and for the first time, Ahmed pushed his father with so much force and things fell apart from there. The old man had used a knife on his son's face while Amira and her mother could only scream. The wound never healed completely and Ahmed hated his father and every other thing in the world from that day.

Tari didn't know what to say.

What?

The fact that no one else even knew his story nearly drove Tari mad. He had kept all this to himself? Was this even true? It couldn't be.

She wanted to know who Ahmed Yusuf was and now he'd told her, it was too much. It was just overwhelming.

What?

The silence lasted for more than thirty minutes. It was that bad.

Neither of them had noticed when the streetlights had come on and illuminated the dark park.

Tari checked her phone.

7:36 PM.

Ten missed calls from Charles Elias.

Three missed calls from Timi.

She dropped the phone. Those things didn't matter at that moment. Not the time, not her family, nothing except Ahmed.

"Ahmed..." Tari trailed, not knowing what to say. The boy still wasn't looking at her, he just fiddled with his fingers. "Ahmed, look at me."

He turned to look at her. His face was now displaying a bright yellow from the lights above them.

She brought her hands up to his face and traced the scar that ran down his cheeks.

"There's nothing wrong with you." Tari didn't know what she was doing that and she didn't know why she had said that but her actions felt needful.

Ahmed breathed out. He hadn't even realized that he had been holding his breath.

Tari asked if he had gone back there or if he'd seen Junior ever since and Ahmed said no. They lived outside the estate and last time Ahmed had checked, they had moved out already.

Tari just couldn't believe any of it. Ahmed was definitely not who she'd thought he was.

"That's why you helped me?" Tari asked, "because you couldn't help the pregnant girl in the backyard..." she wasn't asking anymore, rather she was stating facts. Ahmed only stared back at her but she knew it was true and maybe he didn't even know it, but it was true.

He had been raped at gunpoint, threatened, watched a helpless pregnant teen in distress and physically scarred by his own father for life. All in one day.

Tari didn't just know what to say. Maybe there was nothing to say. She hugged him.

"Thank you," she whispered and then realized she was crying. Crying for him. Crying for both of them.

Ahmed wasn't sure he was comfortable with what was happening. He hadn't told Tari his story so she would pity him. He wasn't even sure why he'd told her in the first place but he didn't want her seeing him as the victim or even worse, a saint. He was neither of those things. He wasn't the hero and he would never be.

For someone to see anything good in him, it genuinely felt very...impossible.

So he released himself from Tari's embrace and stood to his feet. She looked up at him with glassy eyes and he was regretting why he'd come in the first place. Now she would see him as nothing more but the weakling who had gotten raped by women.

In what world did that happen? He wasn't the victim. He was stupid and weak.

He was supposed to be a man. Men fucked women and not the other way around. He was trying to prove that and he would.

"Are you going?" Tari asked the obvious.

"I no wan make dem para for me for house," he replied although he already knew he would still answer questions when he got home.

"Oh...okay," Tari mumbled as she also stood to her feet with her phone and purse in hand. Ahmed shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and they stood opposite each other for awhile without saying anything.

"We go see tomorrow na," Ahmed said casually with a smile.

"Okay, take care." Tari didn't look like she wanted to leave.

They turned around at the same time since they were going in opposite directions and Tari's chest was still aching. She just couldn't comprehend the way she was feeling. What was this?

They both walked away without looking back.

Ahmed didn't look back because he was trying his best to forget the fact that he'd just opened up about something he'd buried and forgotten to Tari Disemi.

Tari didn't look back because she knew that it would only take one look at Ahmed's retreating figure for her to run to him and hold him tight and never let go.

• • •

"And where are you coming from?" That was Mrs. Yusuf's first question to Ahmed after she opened the door for him.

He walked in and walked past her. He wasn't in the mood for her nagging and ranting. But then his father was also seated at his usual spot in the sitting room.

The old man began speaking rapid Hausa but that was all he could do. The man had aged too much in just two years and Ahmed thought it was karma catching up with him. He couldn't do more than a dead rat at that point.

Amira emerged from her room, her red scarf covering her hair and falling over her shoulders. She went over to her father and held his shoulders as if that would do anything in calming him down. The old man was scolding as much as he could as he pointed furiously at Ahmed but Ahmed didn't pay attention to one word. Amira's eyes remained on her brother.

Mrs. Yusuf was furious with the way Ahmed had disregarded her at the door but she wasn't a woman of many words. She had grown tired of talking to her son.

Mr. Yusuf on the other hand would never learn.

And so Ahmed ignored him too and walked away without saying a word. He got to his room and slammed the door shut but he could still hear his parents' voices.

"I don't know what's wrong with that boy, he's out of control," Mrs. Yusuf spoke calmly and sensibly like the educated person she was. Mr. Yusuf on the other hand was still raving and ranting in Hausa.

"Mummy...I think there's something wrong with Ahmed," Ahmed heard his sister say, she was speaking softly but he could hear her.

"And what do you mean?" their mother asked.

"I did some research..." Amira was starting to stutter, "I just...I t-think he...he just needs to see a doctor. A psychologist maybe."

Palm colliding with cheeks was the sound Ahmed heard next.

"Shut your filthy mouth," Mrs. Yusuf still spoke steadily like she wasn't the one who had just slapped her daughter. "I know Ahmed's behavior is unacceptable but the next time you insinuate that I gave birth to a mentally challenged child, I will not take it lightly with you."

"But, ma-" Amira's voice came out croaked and shaky.

"Get out of my sight!"

Ahmed opened the door and stepped out of his room just as Amira was about running into hers with her teary eyes and hand on her cheek. She paused when she saw him.

Their rooms were opposite each other and they stood that way in the hallway in silence for a few seconds.

Amira was on the verge of tears. She knew Ahmed had heard what she'd said to their parents and she hated herself for it.

Ahmed decided to speak. "If to say I be you, I go jus live my life how I won live am. No dey try to dey please dem," he spoke too calmly and peacefully and coupled with the fact that they usually conversed in Hausa, Amira was in awe.

The tears rolled down her cheeks.

Ahmed was about to turn around and go back into his room but then he remembered something Tari had just said to him and he felt his sister needed to hear it.

"There's nothing wrong with me."

I cried.