Chapter 20 : Saba Alkamah
1857 Words
Her name was Saba Alkamah.
Did you know?
Saba was the name of the ancient kingdom where Queen Bilqis was said to have been born—a queen whispered in legend to be the daughter of a jinn mother and a human king. Whether the tale was true or not remained uncertain.
Far removed from that ancient story, however, another child appeared.
Her name was Saba Alkamah.
A beautiful little girl whose arrival seemed as mysterious as it was enchanting.
At first, the villagers welcomed her with open arms.
Although her sudden appearance deep within the forest felt strange, her extraordinary beauty silenced every suspicion.
After a long discussion, the villagers agreed that the baby should be raised by the married couple who had found her in the woods.
As for her name, everyone accepted the one written on the small piece of paper left beside her tiny body when she had been abandoned.
Saba Alkamah was a remarkably gentle child.
She looked like a newborn, though no one knew her true age. They could only estimate it from the size of her tiny body.
She rarely cried.
She never caused trouble.
She was quiet.
Obedient.
And astonishingly calm.
Everyone adored her.
Everything about Saba Alkamah brought happiness to those who heard her name.
Little Alka seemed born only to bring joy into people's lives.
Years quietly slipped away.
By the time Alka turned five, the villagers who had once loved her began to despise her.
The same people who had cared for her with all their hearts gradually ignored her existence.
It all began when disasters and misfortunes suddenly started falling upon the village.
Anyone who stayed close to Alka seemed destined to suffer.
Then one villager finally spoke the words everyone had begun to fear.
Alka was the cause of it all.
She was draining every blessing from the village.
Its fertile land.
Its fortune.
Its prosperity.
Even God's grace.
She was an unlucky child.
Her beautiful face was nothing but a disguise.
She had been abandoned on purpose.
Someone had deliberately left her there to bring calamity upon the village.
Alka...
Was the Devil's child.
The villagers believed it.
Little by little, love transformed into hatred.
The five-year-old girl who had never cried was insulted every single day.
She was left hungry.
Neglected.
Treated with unbearable cruelty.
Finally, the villagers decided to burn her alive, believing her death would end the curse that had fallen upon them.
Strangely enough, anyone who tormented Alka soon suffered a similar misfortune themselves.
Rather than questioning their actions, the villagers became even more convinced that she truly was the Devil's child.
So they made their decision.
Alka had to die.
Only then, they believed, would their village become peaceful, prosperous, and blessed once again.
After an entire month of preparation, the day of the execution finally arrived.
Though Alka had committed no crime, the villagers treated her like a condemned criminal.
The people who stood before her resembled executioners more than ordinary humans.
Their cruelty surpassed even the devil they believed they had raised.
They tied the little girl to a wooden stake they had built with their own hands.
Then they drenched the ground around her with kerosene.
Alka never cried.
Not even after enduring endless a***e.
She simply lowered her head.
Silently.
Sadly.
Then...
For the very first time in five years...
She spoke.
She had never been silent because she couldn't speak.
She had remained silent...
Because she had been afraid.
“You are lowly humans. You are the people of the end times. You t*****e and murder an innocent child. From this moment on... destruction belongs to all of you,” little Alka declared.
Then she screamed.
In an instant, the kerosene meant for her suddenly splashed back onto the villagers instead.
Without warning, flames burst into existence.
One after another, the villagers were consumed by fire.
Alka calmly slipped free from the ropes that bound her.
The little girl who had only just turned five suddenly became something unimaginably terrifying.
At that very moment...
The villagers truly believed they were staring into the eyes of the Devil himself, wearing the face of a child.
Every step Alka took turned the earth barren.
Flowing water dried up behind her.
And anyone unfortunate enough to cross her path was engulfed in flames by the hands of a five-year-old girl.
Saba Alkamah...
The lowly human who had emerged from the depths of the ancient forest returned to that same forest once again.
She disappeared into the darkness of the night.
She cried.
Not because she feared death...
But because her dream of living a happy life had vanished forever.
Humans would always remain greedy.
Five years of prosperity had lulled the villagers into comfort.
Yet only a few months of hardship were enough to make them search for someone to blame.
What they never realized...
Was that Alka's arrival had postponed the disaster destined for their village...
For five long years.
...
“I was truly terrified that night, Sir. Then Alka suddenly appeared, saved me... and just as suddenly, she disappeared again. I'm not lying, Sir,” Aditia said as he sat across from Mr. Dirga at their favorite coffee stall near the police station.
“I never thought you were lying,” Mr. Dirga replied. “But I honestly didn't see that young woman. When I found you, you were completely alone, Dit.”
“Maybe she left after she saw you. But, Sir... I really think she's incredible. The way she fought... it honestly didn't feel human. And yet... she is.”
“Have you checked your father's notebook? Maybe there's something in there about your punishment... or about Alka.”
“Oh, right. Give me a second, Sir,” Aditia replied before hurrying toward his minibus to retrieve his father's notebook.
“I'll look through it first, Sir,” he said as he returned to his seat and carefully flipped through the weathered pages one by one.
“Well? Did you find anything?” Mr. Dirga asked.
“There isn't anything about someone named Saba Alkamah.” Aditia frowned. “But... there's one final note that I find rather strange.”
“What does it say?” Mr. Dirga asked.
“It says that there was once a haunted village where every resident was slaughtered by a five-year-old girl. After that, the child fled into the forest and was never seen again.”
He paused before continuing.
“From then on, the village became cursed. Anyone who tried to rebuild it would suffer terrible misfortune. The spirits of the slaughtered villagers wandered endlessly. People reported hearing strange sounds—crying, screaming, and mournful wails. Burned apparitions were often seen throughout the village. The strangest part was that construction workers who tried rebuilding the place would either become possessed... or be overcome by unbearable heat. Their bodies would suddenly be covered with blisters identical to severe burns. Yet the wounds would disappear on their own as soon as they left the village.”
“And what does that have to do with Alka?” Mr. Dirga asked. “Do you suspect that little girl... was Alka?”
“I don't know.” Aditia slowly shook his head. “It's just a feeling. My instincts tell me Alka isn't an ordinary human like us. The way she fought... the way she vanished... it was extraordinary.”
“If that little girl really was Alka, then you need to be careful, Dit. She's dangerous,” Mr. Dirga warned.
“Whoever she is, she saved my life, Sir. I don't think I should be afraid of her.”
“I think I'll go talk to the lady who owns the coffee stall near the cemetery. She saw Alka with me that night. Maybe she knows something.”
“All right. Go ahead. But be careful. If anything happens, call me immediately,” Mr. Dirga said before the two of them parted ways.
Aditia headed straight for the coffee stall beside the cemetery.
It wasn't long before he arrived.
The place was unusually quiet.
He stepped inside and approached the elderly woman who was wiping down one of the tables.
“Excuse me, Ma'am. One black coffee, please,” Aditia greeted politely.
“Of course. I'll make it right away,” the woman replied before disappearing behind the counter.
A few moments later, she returned with a steaming cup of coffee.
“Ma'am... may I ask you something?” Aditia said.
“Certainly, young man,” the woman answered with a warm smile.
“You know Alka, don't you?” Aditia asked without wasting another moment.
“Mmm... of course I do. She comes here quite often.”
“Do you happen to know where she lives?” Aditia asked again.
“No idea.” The woman casually pointed behind him. “Why don't you ask her yourself? She's right there.”
The moment Aditia turned around...
He froze.
Standing only a few steps behind him...
Was Alka.
“Hey, Dit,” she greeted casually.
“Alka!”
“Yes?”
“Can... can I talk to you?”
“Of course. Go ahead. Who's stopping you?” Alka replied before casually sitting down on the long wooden bench beside him.
“Alka... may I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
“Who... are you?”
“Saba Alkamah,” she answered before casually picking up Aditia's coffee and taking a sip as if it belonged to her.
“I know your name.” Aditia smiled helplessly. “That's not what I mean. I want to know about your life... who you really are... and why you saved me.”
The smile slowly disappeared from Alka's face.
Her expression became strangely distant.
“Do I really have to tell you?”
“No... not if you don't want to,” Aditia replied softly. “But there's one thing I'm certain of.”
“What is it?”
“You're not an ordinary human... are you?”
“No.”
Alka lowered her head.
“I was born to a human mother... and a jinn father.”
Her voice became quieter.
“A f*******n marriage.”
“A child born from the selfishness... and worldly desires they chose above everything else.”
“A devil's child.”
“God's punishment.”
She lowered her gaze, unable to hide the shame in her eyes.
“Were you... the one who slaughtered that village?” Aditia asked cautiously.
“No.”
Alka's expression instantly hardened.
“It wasn't me.”
“It was God's destiny,” she said angrily.
“The truth is... they tried to kill me.”
“I got angry.”
“And then... it happened.”
“If only they had known the truth.”
“Then... why did you save me?” Aditia asked.
“Because...” Alka answered quietly.
“I'm carrying out your father's final wish.”
“My father's wish?” Aditia repeated, staring at her in disbelief. “What was it?”
“He told me that...”
- Writer
