Friday, 19 January 2018

SNOW WITCH Episode 5

About some twelve minutes later, Marion came out of the kitchen looking her normal self. The news flash on television caught her eye, Agbani Darego marries TY Danjuma’s son in Morocco. As though she had not encountered some infernal powers a few minutes earlier, she ran to her seat in the living room and turned up the volume of the television and gave the piece of news her utmost attention. “This is just perfect! Agbani Marries a billionaire!” she said to herself gleefully. Upstairs, Dubem could hear the sound of the television blaring away. That made him much more afraid. He picked a lawn tennis bat in his room and came out, taking each step carefully.
Downstairs in the living room, Marion could not keep down her excitement about Agbani Darego’s wedding to TY Danjuma’s son. “Dubem needs to hear about this! Agbani Darego is married!” She shouted and sprang to her feet. Unknown to her, she was displaying too much energy and could not remember much of what happened a few minutes earlier. She made a dash upstairs to break the news of Agbani Darego’s marriage to Dubem.
The sound of her footsteps was heavier than usual. Dubem was left rooted to his spot as Marion approached him. “Dubem, Agbani Darego has wedded TY Danjuma’s billionaire son! The news is on TV!” So much was odd about Marion. She could not see them, but Dubem could tell so much was wrong with his sister. Dubem nodded in spite of himself and brandished the lawn tennis bat as though he would use it to attack Marion. She noticed it and put her breaks on. “What is it Dubem? What are you doing with the bat?” “You don’t look yourself Marion. What happened to you in the kitchen?” “Kitchen? What kitchen? Is that why you don’t want to show interest in the news I brought to you?”
“Something pulled you into the kitchen. It was like the snow heap we saw a few days ago under Genevieve’s bed.” The moment Dubem mentioned ‘snow’ Marion vibrated as though a surge of electric current was passed through her body. She held her head, wincing in pain. Dubem retreated a few steps backward. “Marion are you okay?” “When was it I got pulled into the kitchen?” “Just a few minutes ago.” She paused to think hard about what Dubem said. “Dubem, I can’t recall that. All I can remember is the newsflash on TV about Agbani Darego’s wedding.” “Marion, we have to get help, look at your feet! What is that?!” Dubem asked, sounding very alarmed.
Marion looked down, staring at her feet for long. Patches of snow ice were morphing from her feet. When she looked up at Dubem, he could tell the person standing before him was terrified, and most of all, was much more than the Marion he had known all his life. “Help… Dubem help me. Something is moving inside me.” The lock of her hair swooshed like a pool of serpents. Dubem bolted back into his room and locked the door. “Arrrgh!!!” Marion screamed and ran into the bathroom. When she stood before the mirror who she saw as herself was a white lady covered with snow from her head to her feet and garbed in a white velvety gown. Her eyes looked like thin sheets of glowing ice, each burning with venom and hatred. “Arrrgh!!!” Marion screamed again and slumped to the floor of the bathroom.
Thirty-six thousand feet above the ground, a Boeing commercial airliner sped through the clouds, heading to Romania. Fast asleep in one of its seats was Genevieve. The passenger sitting next to her had not seen her awake since they got on the plane. She was beginning to think that Genevieve was drugged and somehow smuggled into the plane. That was not far from the truth. The way Genevieve was sleeping left her very worried. When one of the air hostesses came by, the lady who was suspicious all was not well with Genevieve brought her attention to Genevieve.
“She has been like this since I came on this plane. I don’t think all is well with her. Could you please try waking her up?” said the lady next to Genevieve. The air hostess drew closer, reached across the two seats and tapped Genevieve on the shoulder. Genevieve grunted some incoherent words and continued to sleep. “The lady seems fine, ma,” said the air hostess to the lady seating next to Genevieve and left. The lady sitting next to Genevieve was not convinced, but for lack of proof over what she felt, she decided to let the matter be.
About twenty minutes later, Genevieve woke with alarm, her eyes darting about. “Where am I?” she asked her neighbour. “You are on a plane to Romania, ma,” replied her neighbour. “No! No!!! I was forced on this plane against my wish! I am not going to Romania!” Genevieve shouted, unsettling her co-passengers. Air hostesses clustered around her seat in a jiffy. “Madam, we have gone far from Lagos. We cannot turn the plane back for your sake. When we get to Romania we will see what can be done for you.” “But I don’t want to set my feet on Romania! Is there going to be a stopover before we get to Romania?” “No madam. This is a direct flight to Romania. How come you don’t know that? Excuse me, how did you get on this plane? Can I see your travel documents?” asked one of the air hostesses.
Genevieve rummaged in her handbag, found her travel documents and handed them to the air hostess. By now all eyes on the plane were on Genevieve. The lady sitting next to her mumbled, “Don’t take things easy with them. I have been worried about you. You have been sleeping since I boarded this plane. Someone on this plane or amongst these air hostesses knows how you got on this plane. For some time now I have been thinking you were drugged.” “I think I was drugged too. My head is aching terribly,” Genevieve said rubbing her left hand on her forehead.”
“Miss Genevieve Nnaji, your papers are complete and indicate you are on your way to Bucharest for a conference on agro-business.” “Madam, I don’t know anything about any conference on agro-business. Believe me someone put me on this plane.” “Are you certain of that madam? You are making quite big claims here. You are implying that you are being trafficked into Romania with legitimate papers!” “I was told to go to Romania against my wish. What I was told I will do in Romania is not what is on that paper, believe me! I rejected the offer when I would not be allowed to even call my mother on the phone. And here I am waking up on a plane to Romania! How is this possible? I have no memory of boarding this plane!”
With what Genevieve revealed, a wave of whispering swept through the plane. The air hostesses left and told Genevieve that they would get in touch with the pilot. Some minutes later, one of them returned and whispered to Genevieve that the pilot had informed appropriate authorities about her case.
Mrs. Nnaji, the priest and those working with him had Deborah tied to an armchair in a warehouse, questioning her. “At the hospital you said you know and saw somethings, what are those?” the priest asked. “No! Wait! Deborah at the hospital you claimed my own flesh and blood been brought in. What does that mean?” Mrs. Nnaji asked. “The snow witch has touched your daughter Marion. She now bears the strength of the witch,” explained Deborah. Mrs. Nnaji staggered backward, her mouth hanging wide open in shock. “The witch does not want your family’s interference in the battle she wages against the gold and diamond keepers in Pennsylvania. Sorry Madam, things are going to get worse…” Deborah stopped.
“Don’t listen to whatever she says. There is a lying spirit in her mouth!” That was Mrs. Nnaji’s mother in-law. “Mama you made it just in time. Deborah claims the witch has touched Marion,” Mrs. Nnaji said, panting breathlessly. “Don’t just take whatever she tells you! Call Dubem to find out about that!” Mrs. Ngozi, Mrs. Nnaji’s mother in-law said. Dragging a seat closer to Deborah, the old woman sat down and removed a bottle containing red liquid substance from her bag and threatened Deborah, “Now I want to hear everything you know and saw when the snow witch took over your body. If I sense a lie, I will empty this on you, believe me.”
“No! No! Mama! Don’t touch me with that! Please don’t!” Deborah cried out, pushing her chair away from the old woman. Her eyes were wide in terror and her teeth clattered. Whatever was in that bottled scared the shit out of her. She violently shook the armchair to which she was tied and the ropes tying her to it broke to pieces as if they had been shredded. She sprang to her feet and made a dash for the exit door, the priest hurled the staff in his hand at her and she crashed to the floor, foaming from the mouth.
The priest hurried over to where Deborah lay, studied her a bit and announced, “The spirit has left her. Now we are not going to be able to find out what she knew and saw!” “Mama, something must be wrong at home! Neither Dubem nor Marion is picking my calls!” Mrs. Nnaji announced.
STORY CONTINUES…

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