Thursday 12 November 2015
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An African Tale chapter 8 continued

Bosula lived in a cave in The Hills. It was said to be very spectacular with beautiful crystal formations. The only trouble was that Bosula used these formations for evil purposes. There were stalactites that grew from the ceiling and stalagmites that grew from the floor. If Bosula wanted to do away with anyone he would drop a stalactite through the top of their head. It would go right through them and pin them to the ground and this is how they would remain, perfectly preserved forever. His entrance hall was lined with his enemies pinned like butterflies to a board. Anyone wishing to seek an audience with Bosula would have to pass through this terrifying spectacle, thus making them very nervous and easy to manipulate. He also had any number of strange creatures that protected him or just hung about to amuse him. A while back he had talked the mad scientist Tsenwa into taking up residence in The Hills. He had built him a huge underground laboratory and let him go ahead willy-nilly with his mad experiments on living things. This suited Tsenwa. It was what he enjoyed most. In the real world he was stopped from doing these things as it was regarded as unethical and people would not tolerate it.

Bosula had a large army of corn crickets. They were not your normal corn crickets, which were bad enough and caused many people to shriek in horror when they saw them. These were the size of small dogs. They had large bullet-shaped bodies that were covered with lethal-looking spikes and orange helmeted heads with two black antennae protruding from underneath bulbous yellow eyes. They had powerful cricket-like back legs, which enabled them to leap up to two meters at a time. They surrounded The Hills, protecting it from invasion. The only trouble with these creatures was that they ate enormous amounts and were therefore very destructive to the environment. They had eaten all the grass and trees around The Hills, making it a virtual desert, and because there were no trees or grass the rain clouds didn’t bother to go there anymore. Bosula had once had a deep well with lots of underground water so he hadn’t worried about there being no rain. Now things were changing. The well was drying up and he desperately needed to find water. He had started looking towards the well-watered area in which Lesedi lived. Then a man called Kilo had sought him out and told him a fascinating tale of a rather interesting stone. He had heard the legend over the years but had always thought it a bit mythical. Now here was this old man claiming that this stone did exist and that his grandson and his brother’s grandson would have the power to use it.

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