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The Cross River Cannibal

Written by McGarnagle

The Cannibal is coming. Flee while you still can. You have been warned.

To whom it may concern,

My name is Sir Reginald Windchime III. My former employer, The Abuja Oompa Loompas, has pleaded with me not to release the information contained within this letter, but I feel it is my responsibility as a caring human being to warn the people of the world about the impending monster that will soon be unleashed upon them. Before I fill your sleep with nightmares, let me tell you how this story began.

For the majority of my adult life I have let my passion of football dictate my path. That passion manifested itself into a role for me as a youth team scout, which I have made into my career. I have worked for many teams and in many different regions over the years, all the while vigilantly keeping watch for any talented young lad who might have what it takes to make it to the big leagues one day. I've had some successes and some failures, but overall, nothing really set me apart from my fellow scouts. Then one month ago that all changed.

I was in Cross River scouting a local tournament as I frequently do, when I overheard some natives talking under their breath about a young boy they called the "The Wonder Keeper". I tried to further inquire about this mysterious young football player, but the natives seemed spooked by my interest and quickly scampered off. It wasn't until later that evening that a local barkeep informed me that deep in the heart of Cross River National Park there existed a group of people with no connections to the outside world. It was among these people that this phenom footballer was said to reside.

Against my better judgement I began the arduous trek into the dense rain forest. Hours had passed and I was beginning to suspect that I was lost. That's when I heard the chanting. It was a slow, rhythmic chanting accompanied by a blaring drum and I approached the noise cautiously. In the distance I could make out where the tree line ended, and inch by inch, I made my way up to a thick cocoa tree, which I used for cover. After taking a moment to catch my breath, I finally mustered the courage to peer out at what laid before me. What I saw was simultaneously shocking and comforting to me -- it was a football field. Yes, just an ordinary football field, except that it happened to be surrounded by dense forest on all sides and there were dozens of angry looking people in face paint chanting and yelling from bleachers made of stone. I took a moment to collect myself and then turned my attention to the happenings on the field. What I saw I can still only barely comprehend.

At the center of the action was a net and what I initially thought to be a large statue positioned between the two goal posts. My heart must have stopped for several seconds after I noticed the statue move. It is then that I came to realize that I was not looking at a statue, but at a behemoth of a man. He was easily 7'5" (229cm) and towered over anyone who dared get close to him. On both sides of the net, and behind it, sat a collection of bones... human bones (more on that to come). The action on the field consisted of a group of ten men taking penalty kicks on the giant. If the dreaded fear in their eyes didn't give away their nervousness, then the sweat pouring down the sides of their head certainly did. One after another, and over and over again, they each lined up, took a deep breath, and went in for their kick. A clamouring echoed from the spectators any time one of the specific shooters missed a few shots in a row. I wish I was fortunate enough not to find out why, but it was not my lucky day.

The pudgiest of the penalty takers was sitting on four straight failed goal attempts as his turn came once more. An explosion of cacophonous yelling erupted from the crowd as he prepared for his shot. The shooter gazed upwards momentarily in what looked to be a desperate attempt to ask for some divine intervention before proceeding with his kick. The ball was struck hard and aimed directly at the inside of the left post; the kick would have been a sure thing with nearly any other keeper in the world attempting to save it. But as he had been doing since the moment I saw him, the monstrous man used his amazing agility and unimaginable length to get his finger tips on the ball, thus preventing the score. This sent the spectators into a crazed frenzy while the pudgy shooter fell to his knees in defeat. The next thing I knew, the giant was sprinting demonstratively at the shooter with an evil look in his eyes. It is at this part of the story that I choose to spare you the gory details of what proceeded as the two men met. Let's just say that the giant's actions in that moment made it clear why there was a pile of bones all around the net.

The ritual shooting contest continued for a short while after the pudgy man's demise, but eventually the gargantuan keeper grew weary and left the field to the sound of cheering. This concluded the night's festivities and its attendants slowly began to disperse. Making sure the giant was definitely out of the picture, I made my presence known and began to talk with a few of the spectators who were slow to depart. They informed me that the keeper was ubiquitously known as "The Cannibal" to all of the residents of the forest, although his birth given name was Akin Usman. The people of the forest considered Akin a God and happily acquiesced to his every demand. No matter what name you want to give to this creature, there is no denying he is one of a kind.

It was three days later that I finally decided to inform the Abuja Oompa Loompa's about my magnificient find. I had debated on whether or not I should keep The Cannibal a secret, but ultimately could not pass up the enormous amount of money that would come along with my discovery. Time will tell if my petty greed was worth the price of destruction that Usman will unequivocally bring with him wherever he goes. The latest reports from the Oompa Loompa's suggest that he will be immediately sold upon his promotion from the youth team, for they too are fearful of the consequences of dealing with such a monster. One thing is for certain though -- The Cannibal is one of the greatest keeper prospects in Nigerian history and you can be guaranteed that some team out there will accept the risk of trying to control him.

This is where my story concludes. I am writing this final paragraph as I sit at the airport waiting for my plane to arrive. I am leaving Nigeria permanently and going into hiding so I can not be held responsible for my discovery. I urge every one of you who has read this message to follow in my foot steps and escape while you still can. Some might say I am overreacting, but we all know that celebrities and professional athletes can get away with anything. Flee the carnage, don't allow yourself to be a victim! Do not say that you were not warned about Akin "The Cannibal" Usman (150349323).

With deep regrets,
Sir Reginald Windchime III