Another vision.
His mother stood in the distance, smiling, waving-- shining in golden light. He made for her, as fast as he could, the the gap only grew again.
Then a figure blurred past him.
Its outfit bore an uncanny similarity--like he'd seen it before.
He recognized it.
His aunt.
It was the same outfit she had worn that night.
His head sank, she truly was gone.
His mother's lips parted--she spoke, no words came at first.
"wake up."
"its not your time yet."
He opened his eyes slowly. A strange chill crept over him. His danger sense.
Not again, he thought bitterly.
He wasn't on the lawn anymore. The pale cream walls, the flickering lights, and the smell of disinfectant told him exactly where he was:
The general hospital.
He knew it too well, the memories haunted him-- for 5 years he'd been a regular here. Countless visits to see his mom. He tried to turn his head, but couldn't. cold metal brushed against his wrists, keeping him in place.
Then came the news anchor's voice from the hospital TV.
"An 18 year old boy set fire to his aunt's house, killing her and you son."
His blood ran cold.
He didn't expect it to hit the news so fast-- let alone that he
would be the accused.
His mind began to spiral. He tugged again at the restraints and realized with horror. He'd been cuffed to the hospital bed.
Not only had they blamed him…
They were already treating him like a criminal.
Something is wrong, he thought. Something very, very wrong.
"can you hear me now."
Ofor spoke again-- faint but clearer now, deeper in his head.
"Steady your mind. The first tempest trial is not yet over. Your greatest foe is about to enter the room."
His eyes flickered toward the door just as a commotion broke out in the hallway. Shouting. Footsteps. The door burst open--
And Victor stormed in. Eyes bloodshot.
He grabbed Chike by the collar, and striking him across the face.
"HOW COULD YOU?!" he screamed.
A punch. Another, Chike's head snapped sideways, Victor's sobs ringing in his ear.
A policeman rushed in, trying to pull Victor off him, but failing against his size.
Then another man entered- lean, short, yet radiating with an aura that was new to Chike. He effortlessly lifted Victor off him-- like he weighed nothing.
His eyes were drawn to the man's outstretched arm.
A tattoo on his forearm, bold and unmistakable.
FM-1A.
Faith Militia. Chike knew instinctively.
The strange man's voice cut through the room, deep and absolute. He turned to Victor.
"He will be dealt with accordingly."
Instantly Victor folded.
Chike tensed. There was something particular about the way the man spoke--compulsion, the same one he felt before-- when Ofor controlled him- however this felt more powerful.
He turned to the policeman, in a similar fashion. A silent command-- and immediately he took the now quiet Victor outside, the door closed behind them with a soft click. Now they were alone. The strange man staring at him with an unreadable expression.
"My name is Grey."
"I am a member of the Faith Militia."
"Certainly you've heard of us." he spoke, pausing deliberately after each sentence- waiting for Chike's fear to surface.
"Cooperate and make it easier, and I'll make your death painless."
"Stay calm." Ofor stirred.
But it didn't need to, Chike's danger sense tinged low, he'd survive this moment, it told him. He'd walk away unscatched.
But for the first time- he didn't want to.
Walking away was alluring, but where would he go to. His aunt and young cousin all dead. His only remaining relative thinks he's responsible, suffering for it might be the closest thing to penance, death would mean peace.
"You have no one else," Grey continued.
"Victor loathes you."
"You'll die knowing he never forgave you."
He chuckled darkly.
"I hear you don't pray….but you will, I'll teach you how to as I pluck your life away slowly."
He leaned closer.
"Now-"
"What did you take from the Room of Fire?"
Chike laughed.
A broken hysterical laugh.
This man had no idea what he was looking for…and he doubted anyone did.
Ever since he came in contact with the Ofor, one of the things that fuel his distrust was for a fact that him-- despite being an avid reader all his life, he never once came across the name. Not in textbooks, history shows, or scriptures.
It only meant one thing, no one including Grey knew what it was. He resigned.
The room felt quiet. A heavy silence. Then Chike lips moved a murmur not meant for Grey.
"Seems we really do have a lot to talk about."
"Good," Ofor replied, "You're ready to listen now."
Chike had always had a particular trait of insatiable quest for knowledge. If anything piques his interests, he'd go lengths to find out more. Ofor's case was coming from a supernatural angle which he didn't want to admit, but now he's realized there's no running away.
Grey smirked, misreading the boy's distance gaze as fear. He paced, relishing his imagined victory. But Chike wasn't there.
"I'm sorry," Ofor said, its tone frayed-as in regret.
"I foresaw this, tired to warn you. If only you'd let me possess your mind sucessfully, then we could have done more. I am unable to access your full innate ability this way. By the time I returned, your aunt was beyond saving and Emma was nowhere to be found."
Chike heart froze.
"what do you mean nowhere to be found?"
"He's alive," Ofor confirmed. "I felt traces of him, taken away as I entered, it was faint."
his face went pale.
Even if somehow he found Emma again, how could he ever face him? What would he say?
"Hey I'm sorry I could have stopped your mom from dying if I wasn't so stubborn."
"What if the little boy had been told already. It didn't much convincing for victor to believe. The boys mind stood no chance.
From across the room, Grey observed the boys expressions shift. His smirked widened.
Part of their training was to kill the profane on sight, but he found a new satisfaction torturing his victims, even when he got the brief about the boy, forcing him to change his target. He was labeled a high level threat and to be eliminated even from a distance, by any means possible. Yet the boy looked so ordinary weak. With a final Smirk, Grey turned, striding out to meed the rest of his squad.
"we need to leave," Ofor pressed. "now that he is out, you know he's bad news."
"I know I'll way away unharmed." Chike muttered, from the confidence of his danger sense.
"from this room, yes."
"After that? Everything would try to kill you, believe me its threats way above what you have faced before."
The truth slammed into him.
He was all alone.
The world had always wanted him gone. Now it has the perfect excuse.
For a heartbeat, he considered surrender.
Then--- Emma's face flickered in his mind.
That smile. Those eyes.
"that's right," Ofor hissed. "So let's go, rescue him."
"How."
A pause.
"I can conjure an escape route from your imagination--like in that room. But…" it paused.
"What now? Chike muttered.
"I can only do that if I forcefully possess your mind, since we've exhausted out attempts to bond completely."
"And now?"
"it'll only last for a few minutes, sending you into a trance and it'll leave you unconscious afterwards."
"the restraint on your hands make it all the more impossible, the pressure might break your bones in this position."
Chike's eyes narrowed.
"have you ever tested the limits of your strength?" Ofor's voice rang out suddenly, "Ever wondered why your mind holds that unnatural resistance?'
Chike didn't respond. He could feel it- the air of truth.
"you never underwent the First Baptism."
The words struck like ice in his blood.
"it was usually on the 7 days after birth," Ofor continued. "A ritual to marks a soul's alignment with the Faith. But you…you slipped through, your mom fearing shame and public disgrace at your fathers absence, pretended to skip town before you were born."
Chike's breath caught.
"And when she appeared a month later with you, everyone thought you had already been baptized. But your resistance only grew as you got older. And your mom's worse fear came when you first questioned the Faith-- harmless you might have thought, but they visited her for questioning---and her illness began shortly after."
Ofor paused.
"Do you understand now?"
"you were never ordinary to begin with."
The air grew thick, almost alive, shifting with Chike's rising rage.
"He'd been a victim---so was him mom, and they had killed her. Just like they plan to do to him."
His fingers clenched, the cuffs digging into his skin. The frame of the hospital bed groaned under the tension. Something inside him was changing--growing. His strength. He could feel it.
"Now," Ofor whispered, "let me in partly."
He closed his eyes and imagined the door of his mind creaking open. Ofor's presence dwarfing its usual size, surged in.
Chike pulled again.
This time, the steel gave way. With a screech, the bed frame cracked as if struck by thunder. A deafening sound.
The door burst open-- two policemen rushed in. One lunged fir him. Chike didn't think. He reacted.
Grabbing the cuffed frame, he swung--using his full force. The edge cracked into the officers ribs with a sickening thud-- sending him flying backwards into his partner. Both slammed into the wall and slumped to the ground.
Keys glint on the fallen officers belt.
Chike grabbed them, fumbling as he unhooked himself just in time to look up-- and saw Victor standing in the doorway, pale, stunned.
"So its true," Victor whispered. "They said you've been possessed by an evil." His hands trembled. "you sought it out and let it in."
"no!" Chike cried. "Victor--bro-- I can explain. Just come with me."
Victor stepped back. His eyes filled with tears. "they warned me. From the time we were kids…yet, I defended you. Always. And now you proved them right."
"Victor please--"
He pulled something out his pocket--whitish powder. His fingers dipped into it, preparing to blow in Chike's face.
Quickly!" Ofor barked. Moving him on instinct. He struck with blinding speed, knocking Victor back before the powder left his palm.
Victor slumped, unconscious. Chike stood frozen. Chest heaving.
"I'm sorry," Ofor whispered. "But it would have been the end if that touched us."
Sirens.
Footsteps.
"We have to go."
Chike cast one final look at Victor lying on the floor-- his cousin, his friend, the only person who stood by him--and ran.
His kegs moved like wind, at a speed surprising even himself. Within minutes, he was outside.