A Dark Trade - S01 E02

Story 2 months ago

A Dark Trade - S01 E02

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 2

Episode 2: A Dark Trade

The night was very dark as Chidi reached the crossroads. He felt the cold air on his face. This was not the kind of cold that came from the rain. It was a cold that felt like it came from old graves. The air at the crossroads was thick and heavy. It had a very strange smell. It smelled like herbs that had been burned in a fire. It also smelled like old secrets that had been buried for a long time. Chidi took a small step forward. He was very afraid. His legs felt like they did not want to move. But his heart was full of a big desire for gold. He wanted to be rich more than he wanted to be safe.

In the middle of the four roads, Chidi saw someone. It was a small man. The man was hunched over. He looked very old. His back was bent like a dry branch. He was sitting on the dusty ground. In front of him, there was a small candle. The flame of the candle was bright and yellow. The wind was blowing very hard. It was whistling through the dead trees. But the flame of the candle did not move. It did not go out. It stayed perfectly still. This was very strange. Chidi knew that a normal candle would have gone out a long time ago.

The old man did not look up at first. He just sat there. Chidi stood still. He did not know what to say. He could hear the sound of his own breathing. It sounded very loud in the quiet night. Finally, the old man moved his head. He looked at Chidi. His eyes were small and dark. They looked like two black beads.

"You want wealth?" the old man asked.

His voice was not like a normal voice. It sounded like a cackle. It was a mean and sharp sound. It made Chidi feel a shiver go down his back. The old man reached into an old bag. The bag was tattered and torn. It looked like it had been through many storms. The old man pulled out a small pot. The pot was made of brown clay. It was very plain. It did not look special at all. It looked like a pot that a poor person would use to hold water.

"This pot will overflow with riches," the old man said. He held it out toward Chidi. "But you must know something. This pot has a hunger of its own. It is not a normal object. It is a tool of power."

Chidi reached out his hand. His fingers were trembling. He was shaking so much that he almost dropped his coat. He touched the clay of the pot. It was very cool. It felt like touching a piece of ice. Chidi felt a strange energy coming from the pot. It felt like the pot was alive in his hands. He held it close to his chest. He could already imagine it filling up with gold coins and silver jewels.

"The condition is simple," the man warned.

His voice changed. It was no longer a cackle. It was now cold and very sharp. It felt like a knife. Chidi looked at the man's face. The man looked very serious.

"You must never use a single cent of this wealth to help another soul," the man said. "Not even a starving child. Not even your own family. Not even your own blood. Every penny you get from this pot is for you and you alone. If you give one coin to someone else, you will find out what it means to be truly hungry. Do you understand?"

Chidi looked down at the pot. He thought about his mother. He thought about his little sister. He thought about Emeka, his friend at the market. Emeka was always kind. Emeka was always helpful. But then, Chidi thought about the things he wanted. He thought about the five big cars he had always dreamed of owning. He thought about a house with a tall fence and a big gate. He thought about the gold watch he had seen in the market. He wanted to be a man who everyone feared and respected. He wanted to be the most powerful man in the city.

The greed in his heart grew bigger. It pushed away the thought of his family. It pushed away the thought of helping anyone. He felt like he was the only person who mattered in the world. He felt like he had worked hard enough, and now it was time for him to have everything.

"I agree," Chidi whispered.

The words felt very heavy in his mouth. They felt like he was swallowing stones. As soon as he said the words, the old man laughed. It was a loud and scary sound. It did not sound like it came from his mouth. It sounded like it came from the ground itself. It felt like the earth was laughing at Chidi.

"Go, then," the old man said. "Go and watch the world bow to you. Go and see how many friends you have when you are the richest man in the land. But remember the rule. Do not break the trade."

The old man blew on the candle. The light went out instantly. Suddenly, Chidi was in total darkness. He could not see his own hand in front of his face. He felt a rush of wind, and then everything was silent. He called out, but there was no answer. The old man was gone. The candle was gone. Chidi was alone at the crossroads.

He did not wait. He turned around and began to run. He held the brown pot tightly against his stomach. He was afraid he would drop it. He ran back toward the town. He ran past the trees that looked like ghosts. He ran past the houses where the fires were now just grey ash. He did not stop until he reached his small shop in the market.

The market was still empty. It was that time of night when everything is very still. It was just before the sun comes up. The sky was a dark blue color. Chidi unlocked his shop with shaking hands. He went inside and closed the door. He did not turn on any light. He crawled to the back of his stall. He moved his leather bags. He made a small hole in the dirt floor under the bags. He placed the pot inside the hole and covered it with a piece of cloth. He hid it so that no one would ever find it.

Chidi sat on his wooden stool. He was breathing very hard. His shirt was wet with sweat. He felt tired, but he could not sleep. He sat and waited. He watched the small window at the top of his shop. He waited for the first light of dawn to touch the sky. He wondered if the old man was lying. He wondered if the pot was just a normal pot. He felt a moment of doubt. Maybe he had gone crazy. Maybe he had imagined the whole thing.

But then, the sun began to rise. A thin line of gold appeared on the horizon. The market began to wake up. Chidi stayed very still. He held his breath. He listened to the sounds of the morning. Usually, the market was quiet for a long time before the first customer arrived. Usually, only the poor people came early to look for cheap food.

Suddenly, Chidi heard a sound. It was the sound of footsteps. They were heavy footsteps. They sounded like the shoes of men who were very busy and very important. He heard more footsteps. Then more. It sounded like a large group of people was coming toward his shop. This was impossible. The market was not even open yet. The gates were still being unlocked by the guards.

Chidi stood up. He walked to the door of his shop. He pulled the wooden bolt back and opened the door. His eyes widened in total shock. He could not believe what he was seeing.

Standing in front of his small stall was a crowd of men. They were not normal customers. They were wealthy merchants. They were wearing expensive robes made of silk. They had rings on their fingers that sparkled in the morning light. They had big hats and polished shoes. They looked like the kings of the market.

These men were not looking for leather bags to carry their groceries. They were waving bundles of cash in the air. The money was thick and green. There was so much of it that it looked like a forest of paper.

"I want ten bags!" one man shouted.

"I want fifty bags!" another man yelled, pushing his way to the front. "I will pay double for them!"

"Sell to me first!" a third man cried out. "I have more gold than all of them!"

Chidi looked at the men. He looked at the money. He looked back at the corner where the brown pot was hidden. He felt a rush of heat go through his body. It was working. The pot was doing its magic. The world was already starting to bow to him. He felt a big smile grow on his face. He was going to be rich. He was going to have his five cars. He was going to have everything he ever wanted.

But then, he remembered the old man’s voice. He remembered the cold warning. He looked at the crowd of rich men, and then he looked down the street. He saw a small boy sitting in the dirt. The boy looked very hungry. The boy was looking at the rich merchants with sad eyes.

Chidi felt a small tug in his heart. But he quickly pushed it away. He looked back at the bundles of cash. He reached out his hand to take the first pile of money. He did not care about the boy. He did not care about anyone. He only cared about the gold. The trade had begun, and there was no turning back now.

Do you think Chidi will be able to follow the rule and never help anyone?

Why do you think the pot has a "hunger" of its own? What do you think it eats?

If you had a pot that gave you millions but you couldn't help your family, would you take it?

What will happen when Emeka sees all these rich men at Chidi’s small shop?