Friday, 19 January 2018

SNOW WITCH Episode 2

“How did this happen?” asked Genevieve. “Your father took his life after he spoke with you on the phone,” replied the same doctor who told her about her father’s suicide. “How come no one saw him taking his life?” “It happened in a flash. He must have come down here determined to take his life. He brought the knife with him.” For about ten minutes Genevieve could speak no word. “Is it possible for me to see my mother? Please am begging you,” she pleaded after the long silence. The head doctor was about to say no when one of the nurses whispered in his ears, “Her mother has almost fully recovered. She can see her now.”
“Okay, you can see your mother now.” “Thanks,” responded Genevieve as tears pooled from her eyes. With half a run, she led the way as the doctor and a nurse headed with her to her mother’s hospital room. When she had reached a hallway with several hospital rooms on either side of it, she paused. The doctor and the nurse walked past her and entered a room, she followed behind them. “How are you Mrs. Nnaji?” asked the doctor. “I am…” “Mommy! What is going on?!” Genevieve asked as she walked into the room. “Genny! How is Jones?” asked Mrs. Nnaji. Genevieve was still crying. She was having a tough time keeping herself calm. Her attitude got her mother alarmed. “Oh God! Oh God! So Jones is dead?! Heeey!! Heeey!!!” “Mrs. Nnaji calm down! Your son in-law is still alive!” the nurse said, pinning her down on the bed. The doctor rushed forward to help the nurse. “Why is my daughter crying then?!”

“Mommy, it is about daddy…” Genevieve said. Mrs. Nnaji calmed down, her eyes darting about. “What happened to my husband?!” “Mrs. Nnaji, your husband took his own life. He slit his throat,” said the doctor. Mrs. Nnaji covered her mouth with both her hands in shock. She slowly leaned back on the bed and began to weep. Genevieve sat close to her on the bed and they wept their eyes sour. Amid the weeping, Mrs. Nnaji sat up suddenly and asked, “Did my husband leave a note?” “Yes, he did?! How did you know mommy?!” an alarmed Genevieve asked. “What’s on the note, Genny?!” “Daddy said we should not bury him…shockingly Jones has been saying the same thing to me. Mommy, tell me you understand what they are talking about please!”
“Has your grandmother called since your dad took his life?” “No, mom,” replied Genevieve as she handed her mother the note her father left behind. Mrs. Nnaji unfolded the paper and stared hard on the words on the note. “This can’t be happening again. She can’t be back now. No, she can’t,” Mrs. Nnaji mumbled to herself. “Mommy who is the she you are talking about?” asked Genevieve. “Your grandmother should have called by now,” Mrs. Nnaji said to herself, ignoring her daughter. “Mother what is going on!!! My father is dead, my husband is dying and you are busy wondering why my grandmother hasn’t called! What is going on!! Tell me now!!!” yelled Genevieve. The doctor and the nurse moved closer to Genevieve and held her down.
“The snow heap found under your bed, your husband’s sickness, my sickness and the requests by both your husband and your father not to be buried mean only one thing…” “What do they mean mom? Please tell me?”. Just then, Genevieve’s phone rang. It was her grandmother. “Mommy, grandma is the one calling.” “Pick it Genny! Pick it up!” Genevieve obeyed her mother and picked the call. “Grandma, how are you?” “I am fine Genevieve. Listen to me, you must find your mother wherever she is and tell her that the guava tree has dried from the top to the bottom. I believe someone is already dead by now, probably your father…” “Yes, mama, my daddy is dead,” said Genevieve. “Don’t bury him and don’t bury anyone who dies in your family at this time. Did you hear me child?!” “Yes ma. Mama…but what is going on?” asked Genevieve. “Go to Romania, the answer you seek is there. You must go alone!” The phone line went dead.
“Your grandmother told you the guava tree in the village is dead, right?” asked Mrs. Nnaji. “Yes, she did. She said I should go to…” “Romania. She should not have told you yet. You are not ready for what is down there.” “When are you going to tell me what is going on right now?” Mrs. Nnaji waved at the doctor and the nurse and asked to be left alone to have a chat with her daughter. The doctor and the nurse let themselves out of the room.
“There is a secret in our family which you have not been made aware of. You know that I and your father lived in Romania years ago.” “I know I was born in Romania,” said Genevieve. “Yes, you were born in Romania. Our family wealth does not come from oil and gas as we have made people to believe. It comes from gold and diamond. Your father worked as a poor miner in Romania. His life changed when he encountered a certain villager called Alin Cezar, near the forested region of Transylvania. That villager lived close to the Carpathian Mountains. His village believed they were keepers of ancient wealth – gold and diamond…” “Mom please come out with it. What exactly happened in that village,” Genevieve pleaded impatiently. “The village leader, Alenxandru, was sick and was about to die. He had been stabbed in his dream by a witch. They called her the Snow Witch. According to these villagers, they had been in a hundred-year-old duel with the witch over the precious stones – gold and diamond – trusted to their care by their forebears. I don’t know what your father gave to Alenxandru. He said it was a plant they found in a bush near one of the mines they worked in. They called it the magic plant. When Alexandru ate that plant he recovered from the throes of death.”
“Okay, Alexandru recovered, but what has that got to do with what is happening now, mom?” “From what I have seen from the past, that village is under attack once again by the Snow Witch. They are recruiting fighters. I and your dad believe you have been picked by that Romanian snow tribe to fight on their side against the Snow Witch…” She paused. Genevieve looked at her mother incredulously. She could not believe the story she told her. “So you really want me to believe this story? My husband is dying of a strange illness and my dad is dead because a certain village in Romania is under attack by a witch. This is ridiculous! What are you hiding mom?! If you and daddy are into the occult, why don’t you come out with it?!” yelled Genevieve. “Okay! Yes! We are in a cult!!!” screamed Mrs. Nnaji.
Though Genevieve was hoping her mother would tell her about the cult, yet she was stunned when her mother mentioned it. “So you and daddy have been offering blood to Satan? I guess this is payback time. Tell me, what do they want?” Genevieve inquired. “You don’t get it my daughter. They made us rich beyond your imagination and asked for our lives and those of our unborn children. We gave them those gladly. They only wanted us to be their defenders. They saw something in us. The snow seen under your bed was a call…”
Genevieve’s phone began to ring. The call was from the hospital where jones was being given medical attention. Genevieve quickly picked the call. She was scared that perhaps Jones was dead. “Hello what happened to my husband?” Genevieve asked apprehensively. “Madam! Madam! A lady has locked herself in your husband’s hospital room. We don’t know how she got into the room!” a terrified male voice shouted over the phone. “Jesus! Who is this woman?” “We don’t know! You have to get down here now!” “Call the police now!” “Madam, the police are here already and they can’t even get close to the door. Ice sheets are coming out from under the door of your husband’s hospital room. We think this is magic at work! Pure voodoo!” That was the last thing the male voice said before the call ended.
“Mommy, Jones is under attack! A lady has locked herself in his hospital room! The caller said ice is…” “Stop Genevieve you can’t stop this the way you are acting! You must understand first what the ice is, why your father and Jones do not want to be buried and why the guava tree in the village dried up from its roots to the top of its branches. There is a call…”
Genevieve’s phone began to buzz again. This time it was a text message. A photo sent to her from the hospital. The photo had the image of Deborah, their domestic assistant, standing in a hospital room which was filled with ice from the floor to the height of the bed in it. Icicles were hanging from the ceiling and the walls of the room. Jones was on the bed and covered with ice. Deborah had her eyes filled with icy, glassy thin sheet and her hands spread over Jones as though she was making some incantations. Genevieve shook at the sight of the picture and slumped on the bed in shock. Mrs. Nnaji took her phone to see what made her daughter pass out. When she saw the picture, she gasped in utter dismay, “This is not possible. Is this really Deborah? What has she become?”


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