Everything inside him collapsed.
He felt the world tilt. The noisy cafeteria dulling to a hollow buzz. Somehwere deep, he'd always known.
She wasn't sick. Not at first. That morning, she'd been laughing at his usual jokes, cheering him on as he got ready for school. He came back to find her collapsed--the house bearing visible sign of a struggle. But no one believed him.
For five years, she wasted away. All the prayers, tests, treatments, all had failed. She grew pale, her skin thinned like parchment, her voice a rasp-- yet she'd still smiled at him. "I'll be fine."
Her eyes lied.
Or worse--they hid something.
The memory that haunted him wasn't her death. But the week he turned 15, he'd gone to visit her, cake in one hand, flowers in the other. He wasn't allowed in.
He never saw her again.
He knew then. That she was gone.
But knowing and accepting were not the same.
For two days after her funeral, he cried, curling into himself like a wounded animal. No one could console him.
Now Ofor's words sank into his ribs like claws:
His instincts--never wrong--screamed it for years.
"If you're crying over the past," Ofor snapped, "its time to confront the one who killed her."
It leaned in, "Because you know who's next."
The spirit mused.
Finally this were going well.
Five hundred years of waiting- five centuries- for a someone with strong a spiritual affinity-chi- a vessel strong enough to possess. And finally he found one. But the boys mind had been ironclad, making it hard to penetrate--even when he slept, he bore a strong grip on his mind. Cracks had began to appear under the weight of the revelation. The door almost unlocked.
Chike's grip on his own will had been slipping, the spirit could almost taste control.
Then--
The door slammed shut.
Chike steadied himself, breath ragged. The flood of truths had shaken him, but it wasn't new. Some part of him had always know. The being itself wasn't trustworthy.
Ofor flickered, its form--once solid, almost a physical form--human--dissolving like smoke. Its edges blurred; its voice thinned to a hiss.
Chike exhaled, a soft, mocking laugh escaping his lips.
"Anything that doesn't have a logical explanation isn't real," he whispered- not aloud but in the marrow of his thoughts.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then--
"I'll be here when you need me."
The voice withered into nothing.
The bell rang.
Chike gathered his books, the classroom's chatter washing over him like static. Routine carried him--down the hall, towards the junior section-- where Emma would be waiting.
Then-- a whistle.
He turned.
There, leaning against a sunlit car, Victor grinned. Beside him smaller and brighter, his little cousin waved, his smile the only normal thing on the tension around them.
Later that evening after they have had, the two boys sat together.
The silence between then was a living thing. They sat on the couch, elbows brushing, but each in a word too deep on his own. Victor's terror was visible on his face- his nervousness unhinged as he stifled. His mind clawed back to last night, a certain part of it had unsettled him. Prior to hiding behind the pillar with his unconscious cousin--he scanned the room for escape means and didn't find any. But a tunnel mysteriously appeared as his cousin led them out.
He'd gone to Mike at dawn-his friend who'd bragged about sneaking into the Room of Fire a year back to confirm his doubts.
"there was no tunnel," Victor muttered finally, voice frayed at the edges.
Chike turned sharply to Victor's pale face. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Chike too was unnerved. His own memory had been tainted with inconsistencies--he wasn't sure if what he saw had been from an actual memory or his deja-vu.
Ofor's voice crept in from earlier.
"You know who's next."
He opened his mouth, wanting to talk about it-- about the being who had tried to possess his mind. But how could he tell his cousin? Victor looked one breath away from insanity.
Then--a buzz.
Chike's phone lit up:
[Classs Group] Baptism postponed. Next week.
Relief crashed over him, cool and fleeting. A reprieve. Enough time to untangle and steady his mind--
Victor's fingers dug into his arm, urgent.he thrust his own screen forward.
[local News Alert] Faith Militia are coming to town.
Chike's stomach dropped. A cold creeping sense of dreams slithered up his spine. He recognized the feeling. The same one that came each time danger was near. This time it was harder.
The Faith militia were a myth around this part of the realm…rumour claimed they were blessed by the Almighty- each warrior gifted with a unique divine power. Brutal. Legends said they once razed a city to the ground for straying from the faith.
10:23PM.
Emma slept, curled small and safe under his blanket on the couch. Waiting for his mom. The boys paced, Victor's kept calling. His mom was never this late.
Then-- Victor suddenly ran out, calling something back about going to pick his mom.
A few minutes later she arrived she looked worn but calm.
"Sorry" she smiled. "There was an unusual traffic, the Faith militia held prayers for our town. Setting up a checkpoint too."
Chike's blood turned to ice.
Ofor's voice whispered again, low and distant:
"Sorry…it's already too late."
"I can only save you."
The world exploded.
Before he could react, an invincible force yanked him--ripping him through the close door. Wood splintered. Hinges snapped like bones. The air around him screamed as he was thrown across the street. Slamming him onto the road-- the asphalt scrapping his palms raw.
His aunt stood frozen. Her scream trapped in her throat, eyes wide in disbelief as she watched her nephew ripped out of their home by a force she could not see.
Chike fell as he struggled to stand. Dazed, he looked up-- and there, in the dim streetlight, stood a masked man, his hand stretched towards their house--uttering a silent comand.
A bolt of lightning struck.
The house exploded into flames.
His aunts shriek tore through the night.
It struck her first. Her body arched, skin glowing white as it impacted, before the blast ignited the house.
Flames roared to life, swallowing the walls whole.
Chike scrambled to his feet, lurching forward--one name resounded in his mind.
Emma.
-- and slammed into nothing. An invisible barrier held him back, crushed against his ribs, stopping him from advancing.
He wailed and cursed.
"I'll see what I can do," Ofor murmured, voice strained, distant--then gone.
Chike collapsed, knees hitting the lawn.
Everything felt fuzzy as he blacked out.