Citadel of Hope Read online

  The visitors held themselves together. Their lips trembled but words wouldn’t come out. The lantern went off and thick darkness like the abyss covered the room. They heard the soft howl of a wolf from a distance. The windows to the room shut by themselves and the curtains on their own accord were closed. Wilcox switched on his flash light.

  “I’m very sorry for what has happened…it’s a long story,” Wilcox said. The three guests held on tight to themselves in spite of the light.

  “…blood of Jesus…what….what are….you?” Eke stuttered to say.

  “I have…to go back to Lagos. I didn’t bargain for this,” the driver said. “I have been experiencing hell…”

  “Enough,” Wilcox said. “Whatever you see here and whatever I’m going to tell you should not leave this room.” His statement sounded more like a warning than a threat. They no longer saw him as a kola nut chewing drab he appeared to be. There was something deep and dark about him which they never saw or perceived.

  “You never told me you had a monster in your house,” Eke said still trembling on both feet. “It’s a very long sad story, I’ll be glad if you would hear me. Please follow me,” Wilcox said walking through the broken down door inspecting the cracks on the hinges.

  They hesitated. Wilcox acted as if nothing happened, and they feared for their lives. They found themselves a place far from their home and in the middle of the night. Outside was obviously quiet and their next door neighbors were owls, snakes and toads.

  “Come with me, I’ll show you somewhere safe to sleep.”

  CHAPTER 2

  He led them into a room reserved for visitors. They walked pass the bedroom where the beast was laid. The door was broken down. A chain with a padlock was used to tie the beast to the burglary proof. When it saw them, it growled like a wolf.

  The guest room was far neater compared to the sitting room. The bed was dressed with pristine bed spreads and the room smelt of fresh lavender. Wilcox sat on a chair by the bedside and the visitors sat at the edge of the bed.

  “Listen, we are not going to spend the night here,” Eke said.

  “May I explain to you the consequences of your refusal?” Wilcox replied and went on without receiving an answer. “I would be conservative with the truth if I tell you that the night outside is dangerous—it is rather dreadful—very dreadful.”

  “So we are trapped in this… hell hole?”

  “Technically speaking, yes, unfortunately it is worse outside than inside,” Wilcox mumbled showing little concern.

  “I have to go back home… I have to go back home,” Sunday whined from behind. He ranted and began to kick into the air.

  “Be silent,” his uncle roared at him. He didn’t mean to sound harsh but he had to be in control.

  “This whole vicinity is heavily haunted by spirits,” Wilcox began. “We see the dead coming out of the earth and sometimes we come across women, children or men playing and singing. You see, we have great reverence for the dead because they help us do the thing we cannot do. But strangers must be careful.”

  “You bastard,” Eke retorted. “Why did you ask us to come to your house…?” He said. His voice got louder.

  “For that I apologize. Things went out of hands. I never knew this would happen the way it did. But it’s not entirely my fault.”

  “Medicine after death,” Eke said puffing out hot breath.

  “No one is dead—at least not yet. If you would just listen to what I have to tell you, it would go well.”

  Eke kept calm.

  “This place is under a curse. It used to be battlefield where many people lost their lives and were buried. From time to time, the spirits of these dead people reveal themselves in the most unusual manner. Forget that the name is Hope of St. John’s college, it would be rather apt to call it school of Lucifer.”

  “Jesus Christ...” Sunday shouted. He wasn’t aware his voice was loud.

  “Yes, I mean school of Lucifer. An evil cloud hovers around the premises of this school; every student is being monitored without his or her knowledge. We have become used to darkness and we observe our curfew, both students and staffs. Once its 10 pm, everywhere becomes dark and no one is seen outside. On Friday, the curfew is brought to nine. During this period, the spirits keep watch over us—over every single person. So we are diligent not to err. Those who did err have never been the same again.”

  Silence like they’ve never experience overshadowed them. The shadow of Wilcox casted on the wall resembled the beast which raged at them. The battery of the torch grew dim and it seemed the light would go off anytime.

  “I would have to leave you all to have a nice rest.”

  “Hey, you need to do something about your monster,” Eke said.

  “I will. I would be spending the night in his room,” Wilcox said and got up from the chair to drop the flashlight on the floor. “Once its 10 pm, the light will go off on its own. When this happens, do not panic. Just be patient, say a few words of prayer and sleep.”

  Wilcox left them. They kept their eyes on the light and muttered some words of prayers so it won’t die.

  A glittering green eyed object peered through the window. Its pupils narrowed into a convex lens which looked more nefarious than the beast they saw. Eke held tight on to the pillow and grabbed Sunday by his arms which he would never do under normal circumstances. The driver lay at the other end of the bed and Sunday in between them. They did not know what to expect—whether another monster lurking around but this time no one to rescue them from it. Fortunately for them, a burglary proof separated them from whatever it was which stared at them.

  Then, they heard quiet hoots. Soft and quiet like those of a predator trying to mimic the sound of a prey. It was an owl, the size of a cat. Sunday recited the book of Psalms under his breadth while covering his face. The owl stopped hooting. Out of curiosity, they looked through the window and saw two pairs of spherical torch light eyes gazing at them. Sunday turned and looked away. He realized it was not just one, but two pairs of spherical eyes.

  He couldn’t sleep. None of them could sleep. As for his uncle he had one eye open. The owls left but their presence lingered. They did not entirely leave but changed location, standing by the head of the bed spreading their wings. The owls were in the bedroom by their side, staring at them with fiendish eyeballs.

  Not a sound was made. Sunday could still feel those pairs of eyes stabbing him. When he tried to shout, he discovered he was paralyzed from neck down. It was even more difficult for them to scream or call for help. But by consistently speaking the psalms, the deathly aura began to fade into oblivion.

  At a point they all fell asleep—although not deeply. Someone knocked at the door and they jumped up from their bed. The door opened and a lad, barely fifteen years old, lanky and ruddy haired walked into the room. Eke’s eyes were wide open and were both red and weary. The lad blushed and took a step back when he saw the look on their faces, most of all Eke’s face.

  “Good…mor…ning,” he said. “My father said he wants to see you.”

  Eke sighed. He stretched his hands and yawned. “Thank God its day break. Tell him we are coming,” he said.

  They took turn to wash their mouths and faces. Looking at his image in the mirror, Sunday noticed he had lost some weight. His skin looked pale and his eyes sunken.

  They went to the sitting room and the dining table was set with choice delicacy. Wilcox sat at the owner’s seat and beckoned to his guests. His son sat by his right hand sand. “Come and fellowship with us,” he said.

  Eke took a seat furthest from Wilcox, Sunday and the driver also sat far away from them.

  “Can someone pray for the meal?” Wilcox said.

  “I don’t think I have any appetite,” Eke said at once. Though he was usually grumpy, he just could not stand the sight of the house. “Well, I don’t know about them but I have already had my fill of yester night’s events.”

  Wilcox smiled. “I wouldn’t blame you at
all. Sometimes, things we never plan for happen.”

  “You never planned for what happened or you never planned that we would discover what is hidden in your closet?”

  Wilcox bowed his head in grief. His son looked perturbed and tapped his father. “There are certain things we should never pray to know. Ignorance could be bliss,” Wilcox said.

  “I use to think I know you. But now, I don’t know who you are. Who should I be more scared of, your monster or the one who can tame the monster?”

  Tears flowed from Wilcox’s son’s eyes. His father saw it and hugged his son. For a minute the guests watched the display of emotion and didn’t know what to feel.

  “You need some explanations. My son here, Douglas is indeed a very sensitive boy. He is my only child and I’m proud of him. But he has a disability no one knows about. He has been suffering from this ailment in the last four years.” Wilcox paused to regain his composure. It seemed he would break down and cry but he didn’t.

  “He is the monster you saw last night,” Wilcox said at last

  “Jesus Christ!!” Eke shouted and stood up. Sunday and the driver almost fell off their chairs.

  “You mean to say, he’s a monster boy…” the driver exclaimed.

  “He’s not a monster, you fool. Now sit down,” Wilcox said aloud. The driver sat down but reluctantly did so. He stared at the lad in amazement.

  “You mean to tell me that…he is the monster?” Eke said.

  “Yes, he is. And you know why he’s suffering this ailment?” Wilcox said but Eke became frightened. “His mother is the reason for his ailment. She’s a witch. She actually sold his destiny in exchange for her soul. She was asked to choose three options: to run mad, to suffer an issue of blood or her son becomes a beast. As selfish as she was, she chose the last option.”

  “Where is she at the moment?”

  “She’s dead. She died in her sleep,” Wilcox replied under his breath. He tried as much as possible to hold back his grief.

  “I don’t know what to say,” Eke said.

  “My son wishes to apologize for last night. He had no control over his action.”

  “We forgive him.”

  “He can vaguely remember what happened last night. He saw it as a dream. His actions at night are usually seen as dreams.”

  “This is a severe case of demon possession,” Eke said as he shook his head.

  “Yes, it is. The funny part is that, you are the only ones aware of this. I expect this to remain a secret,” Wilcox said.

  They looked at the table set before them but the plates were not opened. Eke smote his chin with his fingers. Sunday and the driver took their eyes away from Wilcox and his son.

  “My son goes to school in the daytime like every normal student. No one would ever suspects he’s harboring a demon. This demon only manifests itself once its ten p.m.”

  “I see…”

  “We have to suffer a lot of pain and agony because of his condition. If people get to know about this, we’ll be stigmatized. Whatever he is, has become a part of him just as you have people with different skin types or physical appearances—some albinos, some are dwarfs, others midgets and the likes. Please see him as one of those.”

  “What a nice comparison,” Eke said clapping his hands. “I…don’t know what to say about this. No one would know that your…innocent looking boy has a monster dwelling in him—at least not from us.”

  Sunday looked at his uncle through the corner of his eyes. He tried to signal him to be mild with his words. His uncle was someone who freely dished out vitriolic attack at the slightest opportunity. He had a foul temperament and an obnoxious character. Douglas bowed his head and his eyes turned watery as he sobbed quietly.

  “If anyone should be blamed let it be me. My son has nothing to do with this.”

  Eke took a deep breath and exhaled. He watched the grandfather’s clock hanging on the wall which wasn’t noticed before. It was quite conspicuous in day time. He watched the pendulum oscillate and he relapsed into a trance-like stare.

  “It’s been a difficult time for us,” Eke said softly. “Is there…no solution to this…?”

  “If there was, we would have found it.”

  Eke looked at the plate and contemplated whether to open it or not. He took his eyes off the food and relapsed into another blank stare at the pendulum.

  “Please eat,” Wilcox said forcing a smile. “You would enjoy our special delicacy of cassava bread and fried guinea fowl eggs.”

  “Ordinary tea would do for me. I don’t know about them,” Eke said with eyes still fixated on the clock.

  “Water would do for me,” Sunday said.

  “Me too,” the driver seconded.

  Wilcox couldn’t hide his displeasure. They served themselves while Douglas bit a thin slice of bread but found it tough to swallow. Sunday sipped a cup of water and his eyes met with Douglas.

  “We’ll be off to Lagos any time from now,” Eke announced.

  “I would love to come with you…too,” Sunday said.

  “No. You stay in school,” Eke snarled and stood up from the dining seat while adjusting his shirt. “I would have to go…thanks for the hospitality,” he said leaving Wilcox speechless but looking intently at his son. Eke headed for the room and Sunday hurried after him.

  “Please… I can’t remain here…take me back home,” Sunday cried following Eke.

  The driver came along and took the car keys. “I’m ready to leave,” he said.

  “I have to go,” Sunday insisted. He put his luggage together.

  In less than five minutes, they had everything sorted out and were set leave. Wilcox walked in wearing a long face. His son stood behind him sulking, eaten up with guilt.

  “I don’t blame you for acting the way ya acting,” Wilcox said in a quiet remorseful tone. “My son is suffering too much for his age…. I wish he could be helped.”

  Sunday wanted to weep but his uncle kept a stoic look. The event of the previous night was still fresh in his memory.

  “It’s a pity I can’t help him since I’m not a Sharman. I wish I could do something to help,” Eke said walking away. Wilcox and his son gave way. Eke stopped and turned to say, “We’re not enemies and never will be.” He stretched his arm offering a handshake. “This is beyond what I can handle.”

  Sunday and the driver assisted in carrying the luggage. Wilcox went ahead and opened the front door to the sitting room.

  “What happens to your nephew?” Wilcox said. “School is already in session.”

  Eke stopped for a while and considered. “He can lodge in the hostel can’t he?”

  “He would need clearance which can’t be done today,” Wilcox said. “Today is Sunday unfortunately, work begins on Monday.”

  “We’ll look for another option,” Eke said. He walked briskly to the vehicle packed by the side of the house. The driver moved ahead, entering into the pool of water and assisted Sunday with his luggage. He turned the ignition while Eke waited for the vehicle to get out of the pool. The engine did not start.

  He tried severally but the engine only made sounds but did not start. Eke started swearing and cursing. “Don’t tell me this car has developed a fault cos whether we like it or not, we’re Lagos bound.”

  “I think it’s the battery,” the driver said.

  “Get out of there,” Eke said stomping into the pool of water to the driver’s seat. He turned on the ignition but it refused to start. After several minutes of struggle, he gave up and stepped into the water more livid than before.

  “I have a battery you can use to start the car,” Wilcox suggested. He went onto his weather beaten station wagon car which he parked by a corner close to the fence. He opened the bonnet and loosened the battery from its terminal. He brought along with him two thick wires. The bonnet of the Rover was opened and Wilcox attached the wires to the battery terminals and asked the driver to turn on the ignition.

  The car only made sounds but did not sta
rt. He tried it some more times but the engine did not rev. The driver came out disappointed. Eke swore and kicked the ground.

  “The kick start has a problem,” Wilcox said. “The nearest place you can find a mechanic that handles your type of car is two miles away.”

  “This can’t be happening to us,” Eke said pacing. Sunday sat by the stairs and wrapped his arms round his knees. Douglas sat close to him trying to offer help.