Chapter 5: The Hunt Begins
746 Words
The whisper drifted through the room.
Inside.
It was no longer coming from outside the door. It was here—in the house with them.
Emeka’s entire body stiffened. His fingers tightened around the jagged black stone Madam Nwokocha had given him, but the warmth that had pulsed from it earlier now felt cold. Weak.
The candle’s flame flickered violently, as if struggling against an unseen force. The shadows on the walls stretched unnaturally, twisting and curling like living things.
“E…me…ka…”
His breath came in ragged gasps. It was so close. Right behind him.
Slowly—against every screaming instinct—he turned his head.
Nothing.
Just the dimly lit room, the wooden charms hanging from the walls, the ancient carvings etched into the furniture. But something was wrong. The air felt different, heavier, charged with something unnatural.
A presence.
Madam Nwokocha moved swiftly, her frail body belied by her sharp, precise movements. She grabbed a wooden bowl from a shelf and dipped her fingers into a thick, tar-like substance.
With a practiced hand, she smeared the dark paste across Emeka’s forehead.
He flinched. “What is that?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she began chanting, her voice low and steady, ancient words rolling off her tongue like a river flowing over jagged rocks.
The temperature in the room dropped.
The candle’s flame shrank until it was barely a spark.
And then—a breath.
Not his. Not Madam Nwokocha’s.
Something else.
Something unseen.
Something standing between them.
“It is here,” she murmured, still chanting.
A shadow shifted in the corner of the room. No—not a shadow. Shadows don’t breathe. Shadows don’t whisper.
Shadows don’t watch.
A sharp knock suddenly rattled the door.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The force shook the walls, sending dust raining from the ceiling.
Emeka’s heart thundered in his chest. “I thought you said it was inside already!”
“It is,” she whispered. “But it is not alone.”
The candle went out.
Total darkness swallowed them.
Emeka’s breath caught in his throat. He could hear something—a low rustling sound, like dry leaves being dragged across the floor.
Then… footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate.
Moving toward him.
He squeezed his eyes shut. His pulse pounded so loudly he was sure it would give him away.
The steps stopped.
Right in front of him.
He could feel it—the weight of something watching him, standing so close he should be able to see it. But he couldn’t.
Then… a whisper.
Soft. Gentle. Almost familiar.
“Emeka… open your eyes.”
His body trembled. Every part of him screamed not to obey. But something else—something deep inside him—wanted to listen.
Wanted to see.
His fingers twitched. His grip on the stone weakened.
The whisper came again.
“Don’t be afraid. Just look at me.”
Something cold brushed against his cheek.
A hand.
No. Not a hand.
Something bonier. Something wrong.
His breath hitched. The black stone in his hand grew colder. Madam Nwokocha’s chanting grew louder, more urgent.
“It is trying to make you answer. Do not listen!”
Her words broke through the fog in his mind. His fingers clenched around the stone again.
The whisper’s tone changed. It was no longer soft. No longer patient.
Now it was angry.
“LOOK AT ME.”
The force of the voice sent Emeka stumbling backward. His back slammed against the wall.
The air rippled.
A horrible, ear-piercing screech erupted through the room. The walls trembled, the charms rattled, and the very ground beneath his feet shuddered.
Madam Nwokocha hurled a handful of the tar-like substance into the air, shouting something in a language Emeka didn’t understand.
A gust of icy wind swept through the house. The screeching intensified—high-pitched, inhuman, filled with rage and hunger.
Then—
Silence.
The candle flickered back to life.
The presence was gone.
For now.
Emeka stood there, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face. His legs felt like they would collapse beneath him.
Madam Nwokocha turned to him, her eyes dark with warning. “This was only the beginning.”
Emeka swallowed hard. “What… what does it want from me?”
She took a deep breath. “It wants what it has always wanted.”
He stared at her, waiting.
Her next words sent an icy dread slithering down his spine.
“It wants to take you.”
- Writer
