Friday, 19 January 2018

SNOW WITCH Episode 11

“Help! Help!! My daughter is dying!” Mr. Nnaji cried out. Having hacked to death, the snow bear trapped under the Toyota Hilux truck, the gold and diamond cult members rushed to help Mr. Nnaji. Genevieve was bleeding much as she lay still on the ground. One of the cult members felt her pulse and tried to lift her off the ground alone, the others helped him carry her to their Toyota Hilux. In the truck, they tied a piece of cloth around the deep wound on Genevieve and drove off.
Back home in Nigeria, Mrs. Nnaji, her mother in-law and the priest were having a tough time trying to decipher if Genevieve was alive or dead. All they could see was that the silver axe was bleeding. That did not augur well for Genevieve. It meant the axe bearer was dead or dying. Amid the frenzy to find out what might have happened to Genevieve, Mrs. Nnaji and her mother in-law got a phone call from the mortician keeping watch over Mr. Nnaji’s body, informing them that he had woken up from death and had been rushed to a hospital for adequate medical care.
“Why is my son suddenly back home? Please God, Genevieve had better be alive! God please save my granddaughter,” Mrs. Ngozi, the grandma prayed. Leaving Marion and Deborah behind, Mrs. Nnaji, her mother in-law and the priest left hurriedly for the hospital where Mr. Nnaji had been taken to. They just could not wait to hear from him why he suddenly returned home and what actually happened to Genevieve.
At the hospital, Mrs. Ngozi began to shout from the reception, demanding to speak with her son, Mr. Nnaji. “I am sorry madam; you cannot see him just yet. We have put him off to sleep, he has a deep cut on his throat,” explained the doctor in charge of Mr. Nnaji. Mrs. Ngozi grabbed the doctor by the collar of his coat and yelled in his face, “To hell with that protocol! I want you to wake him now! A life depends on what he has to say in this moment! My granddaughter’s life is in grave danger!!!” Her voice boomed and bounced around the reception.
The doctor, seeing he could not argue with the elderly woman, nodded and responded, “Follow me.” They all followed him, along with a few nurses. When they reached the hospital room where Mr. Nnaji was being taken care of, the doctor stopped. For some fractions of seconds, thoughts of doubt shot through his mind. He turned and looked at grandma, she nodded and said firmly, “Do it. Nothing will happen to him. I know a lot you don’t about his condition.” Absurdly, she was right. There was more magic in play than medical science.
The doctor loaded a dosage of Provigil and injected it into Mr. Nnaji’s arm. Just within minutes, he woke with a start, gulping air hungrily like a man drowning in the sea. Mrs. Ngozi smiled and moved closer to the bed. The doctor was very concerned, he waved at Mrs. Ngozi to wait a bit. “Mr. Nnaji do you know where you are?” asked the doctor. Mr. Nnaji looked around, blinking his eyes repeatedly. “I am back home,” he replied. A look of worry spread across the doctor’s face and he asked again, “Mr. Nnaji, can you tell what this place is?” “He is fine doctor. He is home. His answer is very correct. There are just some things you don’t know,” Mrs. Ngozi explained. The doctor shook his head sadly, meaning to ask the question again. “I am in a hospital doctor… How long ago did I return mama?” Mr. Nnaji asked. “You came back nearly an hour and forty-five minutes ago. Tell me, what happened in Romania? Genevieve’s axe is bleeding. Is she alive,” Mrs. Ngozi, the grandma asked.
The doctor could clearly see that some form of communication he could not understand was going on between the old woman and her son, and so he stepped aside. The priest and Mrs. Nnaji drew closer, eager to hear what Mr. Nnaji would say. Mr. Nnaji had his face wrapped in mystery. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. Then tears trickled down his face and all feared the worst. “Genny is dead, is she not?” Mrs. Nnaji asked, her voice riddled with dread. “She fought bravely, but she… she fell in a fight…Genevieve could not make it. She fought well. She fought well and made us proud…” Mr. Nnaji paused, tears pooling from his eyes.
Mrs. Nnaji and the grandma slowly sat on the floor with their hands on their heads. A pin drop would have seemed like a loud noise in the room. Only heavy breathing could be heard. The doctor could tell something was wrong and so asked, “Excuse me, do you need my help in any way?” Grandma waved at him and weakly uttered, “No, doctor. I just lost a precious granddaughter of mine, give us a moment to grieve.”
Outside the castle in which Genevieve’s corpse lay in Transylvania Romania, tens of snow bears and a lady garbed in a royal apparel with a diadem on her head, approached. A few hundreds of gold and diamond fighters clutched their axes firmly, ready to fight to the death. “To live and survive this night, I demand you give me the body of that lady from Africa and all the ancient gold and diamond in your care. I will not ask again!” the snow witch threatened. “Generations of keepers have fought and died to you from touching your cursed hands from the gold and diamonds in our care. Their lives they laid down in battles against you. We prefer to die fighting than to have you walk away with those you have asked for! We are the keepers, what we do best is, fight!!!” yelled the lord of the keepers.
From every corner of the ancient castle, fighters surged out, their axes glistening as they ran to meet the snow witch and her horde of snow bears. The snow bear sprang forward to meet the keepers. They needed not to be goaded. The sight of human flesh to devour, made them savour the fight. With arrogant confidence, the snow witch watched as her snow bears unleashed hell on the keepers. Human hands, legs and intestines were torn to shreds and flung into the air. In a matter of minutes, the snow white ground turned red. The keepers had long made their peace with death. Bravely they fought back, and piece by piece, they began to bring down the snow bears much to the dissatisfaction of the snow witch.
She knew she had to fight to leave the castle with anything and when she unleashed her spells on the keepers, their lord rose to meet her head on. Though he was no match for her, yet he dared to fight her. With all the spells and magic at his disposal, he withstood her that night. All around, humans and snow bears fell to the ground to rise no more.
About twenty minutes later, the lord of keepers saw that there was no other hope for them than to retreat into the castle. He was weakening fast and could no longer resist the powers of the snow witch. His legs, hands, back and chest were beginning to tear up as though some beast was lacerating them with its claws. It would only be a matter of minutes before he would bleed to death. He raised a cry urging his people to retreat into the castle. The sight of him drenched in his own blood offered his people little hope. As his last act of defense against the snow witch, he raised a white shield against her. He knew that would not hold for long against her cruel power, but it would last long enough for them to retreat into the castle.
Inside the castle, young keepers tried their best use their powers to heal their dying lord, while the few surviving keepers took what was to be their last battle positions.
It had been over six hours since Genevieve lay dead in a coffin in the castle. The keepers of the ancient gold and diamond in Transylvania had hoped she would be the one to end the tyrannical reign and oppression of the snow witch. Sadly, their oracles had failed them. She was dead, cold dead. In a coffin she lay lifeless.
Outside the snow witch and her snow bears summoned infernal powers of hades to undo the shield raised by the lord of the keepers. Inside the castle, the younger keepers managed to stop their lord from bleeding to death, but he was still in no condition to fight. It would take weeks for him to stand on his feet and lift a silver axe, but that would only happen if they could survive the night.
Then a faint thud was heard from the room where her coffin was. Keepers ran to the room expecting to meet snow bears the snow witch might have projected into the castle. What they saw was a vibrating coffin. The lady inside it had somehow woken up and was trying to get out.
Genevieve tried to get up but found she had been placed in a coffin and left for dead. She kicked at the lid of the coffin and sent it flying into the air. Sitting up from the coffin, she stared around. There was no one in the room. The keepers who saw her coffin vibrating had fled in fear. It was mostly dark in the room dark, a dimly burning lamp hung on the wall illuminated the room weakly. On a table was her axe; it was glowing and almost pulsating, one look at it she understood what it meant. She jumped out of the coffin, laid her hand on the axe and made a dash out of the room.


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