"Ye tho I walk through the valley of the shadow of...." I paused, my breathing heavy and my fingers locked together. I was beginning to find it increasingly difficult to finish the simple prayer.
I kept my eyes shut, afraid to open it without finishing my prayers. Mother had said once that if I opened my eyes without finishing the prayers, I would be inviting the devil. I believed her. I still did.
"In the name of the father, and the son and..." I tried to start my prayers all over again and still couldn't get past the first lines.
My breathing increased and I felt the sharp pain of my heart hammering against my chest.
I freed my fingers and slowly opened my eyes. The wooden floor creaked as I stood up from it. My knees hurt slightly and my head ached, as it did every night.
I looked around the tiny room, it was dark save for the tiny rays of moonlight hitting the metal bowl on the floor. The room was also quiet except for the consistent dripping of water on the wooden floor and it's splashing on the bowl.
I moved up towards the bowl and bent to adjust the position, the ceiling had been leaking after the rain yesterday.
The small window creaked as a draft of air rushed past it. I walked a few steps to the window and pushed it open.
The window was not so big, in fact it was exactly the size of my head. I closed my eyes and sniffed the cold air; it would rain again, and soon.
I stood back from the window and tried to remember why I was still awake at midnight.
Oh yes, the voices in my head. The voices that were always talking to me. No, it wasn't my thoughts, I can easily tell my thoughts apart.

The voices were always whispering quietly, telling me what to do.

At midnight, these voices got louder, and sometimes more aggressive.

They'd even taken over my body once, when I had been dreadfully ill. I heard mother say I had been sleep-walking and that maybe it was the medication.

But then, there had been other instances.

One time, when I had been going home from school, I'd decided to take a dark corner street. The street had been empty as I knew it would, but I took it anyways.

I was walking quietly, aware of the honking and rushing fading behind me and then the voices came up again.
"What will you do?" They asked.
I ignored the voice. I always did.
"What will you do?!" It raged and I got distracted and stepped on a puddle of brown water, soaking my black sandals. I groaned and yelled "what!"

The voices calmed down, "The man coming behind you, he wants to harm you, what will you do?"

I felt my heart skip a beat and then I clutched my school bag, the leather creaking subtly.
I didn't turn back just yet, I listened.

I suddenly became aware of the thudding of boots behind me. That was when I turned.
"Hey, little girl." The man said.
I groaned and then grimaced at the sight of him. He wore a faded, grease stained brown shirt and an equally faded jean shorts. I could smell him from where I stood.

He kept walking towards me, exposing his yellow teeth in an awkward grin and looking around him. The street was dark, so he had no worries.
"A nice body you have there." He muttered, and oddly I stood still, transfixed.
"What will you do?" The voiced beckoned.

I let go of the straps of my bag and squeezed my hands into fists. I was angry.
I noticed that the voices grew louder the moment I got angry, and when they were loud they usually took control.

"You should kill him." A tiny, distinct voice said. I gasped and shook my head, trying to rid myself of those voices.
The man was close now and he had a greasy hand on my shoulder.

"Want to play a game?" He said, I looked away and felt my stomach churn. Except the game is let's-see-who-smells-the-most, if it's that then you win.

I got hold of my thoughts and remembered what mother always said about strange men; run, scream and never look back. That was what I did, although without the screaming part.
So, you see, those voices were not my thoughts.

I moved around the dark room and sat on the iron bed which creaked under my weight.
Thunder rumbled and then it suddenly began to rain. I looked up at the window, seeing just a slight part of the moon from my angle.
The rain beat down on the glass pane of my window with little rattling noises.
I thought of home and I felt empty.
And then I felt enraged. They'd locked me here. They had no faith in me at all.
They called me mysterious, strange, witch.
I looked around the small dark room and heard that, distinct mocking voice again.

"Witch!" It cried.

"I am not a witch!" I cried, slamming my fists on the bed. The floor shook slightly and the bed creaked loud.

My eyes opened wide as I saw the room light up; blue streaks of light dancing around me. I'd done it again. Maybe I was a witch after all.

Like I said, I'd done it again. Meaning this was not the first time I'd summoned those light things.

A few months ago, before my parents brought me to this cursed place, just a few weeks after discovering those voices in my head, I discovered something else.

Mother always said I was a stubborn child by nature and that stubborn children needed to be handled roughly.

She always had a bible passage to back each of her theories, "spare the rod and spoil the child" was her favorite.

This was the reason why I hated father less than I hated mother. Father didn't beat me, but I hated that he was under the control of mother.

He had been against them bringing me here but had done nothing. A pitiful weakling, he was.

On this occasion, mother had me kneel in front of her, a long cane in her hand and a bible in the other.

Her voice was blurred out in my ears, drowned out by the voices speaking in my head.

I couldn't hear myself think. Literally.
I watched mother's mouth move steadily and seriously, not making out a word.
She closed the bible and said something to me, I nodded and said yes. I had no idea what it was but I've learnt to always say yes to mother. I had the scars from that lesson.
Mother stood on her feet, gripping the cane tightly and gesturing with all her fingers. I guess that meant I was to receive ten lashes with that cane.
She began lashing out at me. The first stroke landed with a loud twip. I winced as I felt the cane burn into my skin and then suddenly, just as it'd come, it died down.
The voices grew louder in my head.
"Kill her, stop her, fight back, don't cry!!" So many voices, so much that I didn't know when mother dropped the last stroke.
She stood back, breathing heavily and watching in surprise as something weird happened.
My face became darker and my eyes went white.

The voices, they were driving me crazy. I shook my head rapidly, unaware of mother and focusing only on the voices.
"Enough!!" I yelled and the voices fell silent.
I blinked rapidly and listened to my own voice; the voice I'd just yelled in.

It hadn't sounded like me, instead I felt like I'd channeled all the voices and yell with them all at once.
I also heard a loud crash as I noticed mother fly back from where she stood and crash into our plate cupboard.
Father rushed in immediately.
"What happened?!" He yelled, but I just stood there and watched, feeling my breathing calm slowly.

The words and the sound were all blurred out as I tried to comprehend what had just happened.

That was really the first time I had actually 'manifested'. The first of many to come.

I like ur style... Spice it up wt Catholicism
Kudos.

Would u need a collabo?

nijabazaar:
I like ur style... Spice it up wt Catholicism
Kudos.

Would u need a collabo?

Thanks.
And not really, but what do you have in mind?

Chukswrites:


Thanks.
And not really, but what do you have in mind?

I like horror-fantasy and seeing that you are into it too, i couldnt resist asking for a collabo.

You know, something like Douglas Preston and Lincoln child (authors of Cemetery Dance)Collabos

nijabazaar:


I like horror-fantasy and seeing that you are into it too, i couldnt resist asking for a collabo.

You know, something like Douglas Preston and Lincoln child (authors of Cemetery Dance)Collabos

Yeah, I know those guys.
I have one of their books.

Anyways, we'll see.
I'll keep in touch when I'm ready.

Interesting... Continue please

[b][/b]PART 2

The next month passed with mother in the hospital, something about a fractured hip; apparently, she wasn't as tough as I thought she was.

The day she gave back, all tired-looking and vengeful, she had a long talk with father. She did most of the talking.

It was sometime in the night, possibly around nine, when they thought I'd probably be sleeping.

Actually, I really was sleeping, but the voices woke me up.

"Listen, listen." They kept saying and I did. I listened, and heard their muffled conversation from the floor below.

I rolled off my bed and crept towards the wooden steps leading to the parlour a floor below.

The steps creaked noisily so I had to take them one at a time. And slowly. I have no idea why I was being sneaky, their conversation was about me and I should have been there. It was my life after all.

"She is bewitched, possessed by the devil!" I heard mother yell.
"She is our daughter." Father's voice spilled out slowly.
I heard the chair creak as mother got up roughly, "you always were weak!" She scorned, "I'll call the sisters and they will take her and purge her of all evil." She said almost desperately.
"Oh Lord, be my Shepherd." I heard her mutter as she walked away.
That was the day they(I mean mother) decided to send me to the home of the sisters; where I was presently planning on escaping from.

Let me tell you a bit about the home of the sisters as I've come to know them for exactly two weeks.

It had been a dreadfully wet day, the day I stepped out of the car and unto the home of the sisters.

The home of the sisters is not a home in the sense of the word, it's more or less a prison or a place to dump people who the society considered strange, possessed, or as in my case, bewitched.

The cold rain scattered over my head, making little tapping noises against my rain coat. I stood still, swallowed a bit hard from the rain pouring over my face and watching the tall imposing structure before me.

The brown brick building went up for three storeys. It had little square-shaped openings (they couldn't possibly be windows.), and a central door which looked like a big mouth. It was scary.
Mother joined me almost immediately, followed soon after father.

I stared at them, hoping they'd see the fear in my eyes. I don't think they did.

Although, I noticed for the first time what looked like apprehension in their faces.
I also couldn't hear the voices in my head; they were probably scared.

The Sisters had this belief: 'an idle mind is the devil's workshop.'

And they implemented this belief on all of us.

They made us work on farms for most part of the day, and then pray in the church for the remaining part.

I was sick of it. So, yes, this is the reason why I'm awake around midnight; I'm breaking out of this place, the voices want me to and I'm going to find answers.

I have no idea if I'm a witch, and I have no idea why I had these abilities.

I had no intention of waiting for the answers to come, I'll go to them.

The moon suddenly disappeared into the sky and the room became even darker.

I relaxed myself and trailed my hand over my cheek, wiping away the lone tear drop escaping from my eyes.
"I am not a witch...." I heard my voice saying, and doubting it with each note.
I took in a deep breath and then let the voices take over.
The bed creaked once more as I found myself getting up and walking towards the window.

I could feel it, and even see it but it wasn't me in control.
My legs kicked the metal bowl making it clank loudly, I wanted to stop and put it back again but I kept moving.
When I got to the wall, just by the tiny window, I suddenly stopped. The window was open and it was still raining hard, splatters of rain drops hitting the glass and splashing on me.

I felt the need to get out there, into the dark night. I didn't want it, but I felt it.
"Close your eyes." A voice calmly said to me, the friendly voice. I did so, feeling the night air against my face.
A warm sensation passed through my body, from my toes to my head and my fingers, especially my fingers.

I felt myself being stretched like though. That's just how I can put it; I felt light and stretched and then my heart beat increased and I began sweating.

"Don't look down." A voice said to me.
An odd thing to say, I thought and then I opened my eyes.
It was when I opened my eyes that I realised the wet rain falling over me, and....the tiny trees below.

I screamed, shocked at seeing myself so high up in the air, and worse, moving.

I began to waver and fall, losing altitude quickly.
I screamed, but I didn't hear a voice. A shrill squawk escaped from my throat. I closed my eyes.

"Don't look down!" A sarcastic voice snapped.

I steadied myself and looked up, and then my gaze shifted to my hand.....or should I say wings.

Part III

I was staring at what used to be my arm. It was significantly shorter and covered in black feathers(I wasn't exactly sure if it was black, the night was still very dark).
The wind flapped against my face and I squawked when a white bolt of lightning ripped through the clouds, lighting up the rain into tiny silver pieces. I sqwaked because I was that close; high up in the clouds, the lightning just might hit me.
My right wing flayed unsteadily as I felt myself trying to control it and also the voices in my head helping out.
"Relax, breathe and fly." A voice said to me.
Okay, okay, I told myself and then slowly, I felt myself become conscious of my features; the light weight of my wings as if a bunch of clothes were ties to my arms with a string, the quick moving of my tiny head and my tiny feet tucked underneath me.
The wind moved upwards against my face as I began to fall unsteadily, swaying and trying to keep my balance.
"We should help her." A voice in my head stated, I couldn't make out which voice.
"Let her be, she should figure it out for herself." Another voice spoke, "what's the worst that could happen?" The voice added.
"She dies!" That shrill sarcastic voice chipped in.
I was well aware of this conversation, it was almost impossible to ignore it. My wings kept flapping rapidly as I kept falling.
How hard can flying be?
I looked down towards the earth and I got a dizzying effect; it felt like the world was spinning and I was in the centre of it. The ground seemed to scream towards me and then back again, zig-zagging and shaking around me like an image dangling from a thread.
I saw a bird dart across my face; I could have sworn it looked at me funny, like 'don't you know how to fly–funny.
My wings steadied and I suddenly got the feeling that it was my arm, or my wing.
I stopped falling when I spread out my wings and I somehow hovered right there in the air, with the wind mildly pushing me.
The voices in my head were quiet by now.
"That's it." One of them quietly said, as if scared that praising me would make me lose focus.
Mustering all my energy, I began to flap my wings, rapidly moving them up and down and trying to gain altitude.
This wasn't really an easy task because I had to cut through what seemed like a wall of air around me. I kept on flapping and willed myself to move, and I did.
Exhilarating, yes, that's how I felt. The rain fell at an inclined angle as I flew past it, my wings fluttered quietly, whoosing with the air and I found myself flying fast and high.
"Not so high, you're a sparrow." A voice warned me.
I felt like I had to look for the breaks on this thing as I tried to stop myself from going higher.
The air was thin up there. I looked down, noting that the dark clouds hindered my vision of anything below. It was also scary, I felt my heart beating rapidly as I struggled to dive.
"A quick lesson, girl," the sarcastic voice said, "Sparrows can fly up to five thousand metres above the ground. Experienced sparrows, that is. Right now, you are neither experienced nor in a safe height, get down!"
My wings flapped stubbornly, I was beginning to panic and it was getting really difficult to stay in control up there.
Another lightning ripped through the clouds, startling me, followed by the loud rumbling of thunder. The wind was in control up here and the cold showers seemed to have intensified.
"She's losing it." A voice said.
I tried to steady myself but the opposite happened; my wings went stiff, as if it was being held out by someone. I tried to move it, but it remained stiff, locked in it's outstretched position.
I opened my mouth and screamed, letting out a string of chirrupings; I was falling, the window pushing me, and falling fast.
"Take over!" I heard the friendly voice say in a more frantic tone. This didn't help.
"We can't, she has to give consent and right now she is panicking." One of the voices said, "She has to calm down."
"We are almost near the ground!" The sarcastic voice reminded.
My wings were still stiff, I knew that because I was still struggling to move them. More chirrupings, more whooshing as the air rushed past my face, more rumblings and I got even more afraid.
"Calm down, calm down. Breathe in and relax." The friendly voice advised. I took in  short breaths, slowly calming down.
"Almost there." The voice shouted, but I think it meant the earth and not me calming down.
By the time I let go and felt them take over, by the time my body felt relieved of by and right when I noticed my wings flapping desperately, I hit the ground.
The voices in my head became muffled and I felt the rain began to wash over me, the dark feathers sticking to my body.
"Is she okay?"
"Stupid girl...."
The voices began to trail off.

Part IV


Some time ago, when I was little (I can't remember how little, possible five years old) I'd fallen so ill that I'd been unconscious for two days.

I felt myself in that body now; inhabiting my younger self.
I found myself walking out the hospital ward and into the adjoining corridor.

I paused at the beginning of the corridor, just outside the ward. The walls of the corridor were white, bright white and the light of the electric bulb on it made it even brighter.

I think I felt the urge to eat something and so I decided to go find my mother, and now I think of it, there had been no one in the ward I just came out from.

The floors of the corridor echoed loudly as I walked unsteadily towards a white door at the far end. My hand trailed the walls, feeling it's dry smoothness and occasional bumps.

A loud bang escaped into my ears, like the sound of a door closing, and I turned to see it.

Oddly, the path of the corridor I just walked from seemed different; the walls were dirty white and the electric bulbs seemed to have been turned off.

A loud thud, and then slow hissing noises accompanied by the slow crunching sound of boots against the floor. I stood still, watching for whoever was coming.

"Time to go." I heard a voice say, I wanted to ask who said that when I saw it. It stood there, at the far end of the corridor, a woman in black.

She stood just in the shadows, a hovering smoke around her; the source of the hissing sound. Her eyes were deep red and her face completely dark, as if covered by a dark veil of some sort.

I felt myself tremble, the lights above me suddenly bursting, making half of me to be in the shadows and the other half in the light.

She outstretched her arm slowly, the hissing getting louder and she pointed a thin, crooked finger at me. The smoke thing suddenly left her side and rushed towards me.

"Wake up, time to go!" I heard a voice say.
The floor squeaked as I shifted backwards, feeling a scream coming on but unable to let it out.

The smoke thing kept rushing towards me, the walls making a cracking sound as it passed. It was just about to grab my arm when I suddenly heaved and woke up.

"She's awake." One of the voices said.
"Finally!" The sarcastic one blurted out.

I lay drenched on the ground, the rain falling in light showers now and my breathing unsteady; I was my normal self again.

My arm felt heavy and hurt just as I tried to get up.

"It's broken." I heard a strange voice say. I shifted my head and from where I lay I could see an old man standing just by a small wooden fence.

"You can hear me,I thought so." He said, walking in slow strides up to me.

The old man had a black bag slung across his shoulders and he wore a white flowing robe, one that sort of glowed. In fact, the old man glowed.

His hair was white, and his scattered beard was the same colour and they looked like they were made up of a bunch of glowworms stuck together; he really glowed.

He shook his head, "It's really broken." And then he looked up, "what were you three doing when this happened?"
I was about to say that I was alone when I saw them, the three of them.

"She was flying and that happened." A soft voice said.
The old man touched my arm and I heard a smacking sound, and almost immediately my arm felt light.

I got up happily, and turned to look at the three girls glaring at me.
"You are supposed to protect her, and you nearly got her killed, or worse....sucked in."

The three girls were about my age, and just about the same height as me.

One of them had white hair plated into cornrows(glowing, of course), another had thick yellow hair, and the last had black hair.

They all had the same colour of skin: dark ebony, and they dressed like me, in black tops and jeans.

Speaking of which, I felt the cool air hit against my chest and it was then I realised that I was naked. I gasped.

The Old man shot a scolding glance at the girls and then placed a hand on my shoulders.

A bright light appeared and I felt myself wrapped in a single cloth, tied from my chest and stopping just below my knees.

"It was my fault." I said, pitying the drawn looks on the faces of the girls, whoever they were.

"I changed into a bird,"I said excitedly, " and I flew up into the clouds, but I began to fall and.....the voices." I paused, "I can't hear the voices again."

"What voices, my dear?" The Old man asked.

"In my head..there were voices." I answered.

The Old man smiled, a warm smile and then glanced up at the three girls, "There they are." He said, I followed his gaze, watching the three girls as if they had just appeared from no where.

This was a shocking revelation. For one, I thought there were up to five voices in my head and second, I could have sworn that the sarcastic voice was a thin, old man.

I shifted my gaze from the girls; unable to say anything to the voices I'd lived with almost all my life. Even though I'd secretly wished I could see those voices and tell them a thing or two.

"What did you mean sucked in?" I asked the old man.

The old man kept looking into the clouds, the rain had suddenly stopped and the full moon became visible, it's light falling over the trees around where we stood.

"I can answer that some other time." He said, looking stern, "The witching hour, it begins."

Itsandi

Enjoy!!

Captivating ... you remind me of Ted Dekker...

nijabazaar:


I like horror-fantasy and seeing that you are into it too, i couldnt resist asking for a collabo.

You know, something like Douglas Preston and Lincoln child (authors of Cemetery Dance)Collabos

Hold on. You're also a fan of Preston Child? Awesome!

Darkcrisp:


Hold on. You're also a fan of Preston Child? Awesome!

Aloysius Pendergast....my best Character, the only person that comes second is Hannibal Lecter.

Pendergast is almost Hannibal Lecter except that hez not a Cannibal.

He x suave, has a morbid curiosity for the dead, how they died and who killed them.

He likes Mathematics just like Lecter.
He x a programmer too and likes Classical Art and Music

nijabazaar:

Aloysius Pendergast....my best Character, the only person that comes second is Hannibal Lecter.

Pendergast is almost Hannibal Lecter except that hez not a Cannibal.

He x suave, has a morbid curiosity for the dead, how they died and who killed them.

He likes Mathematics just like Lecter.
He x a programmer too and likes Classical Art and Music

Pendergast is my favorite too. I mean, I love him. I have the complete series but I'm too lazy to read. I've only read Still Life With Crows.

Errr please sir, where's the remaining story. Don't break my heart biko

poshpimkiey:
Errr please sir, where's the remaining story. Don't break my heart biko

use super glue if ur heart is broken

poshpimkiey:
Errr please sir, where's the remaining story. Don't break my heart biko

It's part of a weekly series.
I should get out more soon.

Keep rolling I see you made it to the FP thumbs up

Oh my
HORROR FANTASY
more please
This is really cool

has a little touch of exorcism but this time in a rather more African pattern.
when mother held the Cain and a bible hoping to whip the weird acts off but the reverse was the case.
i like this (y)

Please make sure you complete the story. Thanks.

Part 5



The witching hour was said to begin the moment the clock struck midnight everyday. It was also said to run till three a.m. This was all wrong. Okay, maybe not all of it.
I walked beside the old man in white, listening to him as he spoke. The three girls were close behind.
He was telling me about the witching hour.
He said the witching hour happened four times in a month. Four times during the moon's various phases; when the moon was taking shape.
He called them new moon, Crescent, last quarter, full moon.
"What's so special about the witching hour?" I asked.
He actually chuckled and his face became hard, as if he was staring at an old enemy.
The witching hour, according to him, was an energizing period. When the moon began taking shape, certain beings become powerful: spirits, ghost, and wi– I interrupted him.
"Aren't spirits and ghosts the same thing?"
He shook his head.
Ghost transform into the spirits, he explained to me. He said when a person dies, they becomebecame a ghost and that ghost later takes the form of a spirit during any of the witching hour; they get liberated.
"So, the witching hour is good then?" I asked.
He shrugged and said to me, "For every thing that is good, there is a bad side."
And witches, he finally said.
"Witches?" I asked.
"It wouldn't be called the witching hour if witches were not involved now, would it?"
I shook my head. I guess not.
He suddenly paused and looked at me.
"Why do you think you were able to transform into that bird on this night?"
He continued moving, but I remained still. TheI three girls also stopped. I looked at them, where they waiting for me to move on?
I caught up with the old man.
"Am I a witch?"
"That doesn't matter right now. That is not what is important." He said and paused by a large tree.
He shifted the bag around his shoulder and reached into it. Taking out a piece of white chalk, he drew a long square outline around the edge of the tree.
He then turned to me, "But, yes, you are a witch."
With that the white outline on the tree began to glow brightly and a rush of wind came from behind me, almost pushing me, and the wind moved towards the tree.
The outline grew brighter and then a the middle of the tree began glowing a warping weird mixture of purple and blue.
"Takhe her back to the village." The old man said, addressing the three girls, "She'll need to meet the grand witch."
"I'm a w-witch?" I stuttered, and he touched my shoulder.
"You should be proud," he said, "not all witches are bad. It is a great honor." He added.
"Where are you going?" I asked as he started walking away.
He pointed to a dark cloud covering the moon.
"The witching hour, my job." And with that he began to run and amazingly, leaped into the air and transformed into a big leopard.
I gasped.
"He's a warrior, they can do that." One of the girls told me and then they shoved me through the tree.
I closed my eyes as I stepped through the tree. I was expecting to experience a dizzying feeling and see myself get warped through spece, but I just felt myMy feet touched grass and I could feel a bright light hitting my face. I, I had to open my eyes.
I was amazed. We were in some sort of thriving village. It didn't have the grim look of the city; there were no black smoke lingering in the air, no loud honking of traffic and certainly no sister's home. And it was also day.
"I–I thought it was midnight?" I asked, looking at the girls beside me.
One of them scoffed, the sarcastic one I guess.
"Welcome to the spirit world." One of the girls said, the one with the yellow hair.
The spirit world, I thought, and looked around again. It wasn't as drab and dull as I'd imagined. There were no floating beings and no ghostly hissing sound lingering in the air, as I saw in the movies.
There were birds fluttering about and bright blue skies. No tall buildings, just little huts and lots of green trees.
"Come on, we have to see the grand witch."
I gulped, "Is she bad?"
They chuckled, "she's the best." they said collectively.
"I still don't know your names." I said.
The girl with yellow hair smiled, "I'm Tami, the oldest. I came when you were born."
"I'm Sami," the girl with the white hair beamed, "I came around your first birthday."
We all turned to the last the girl, the one with the black hair.
"My name is Bo." She said. I had been expecting another similar sounding name.
"I came into existence the first day mother beat you."

Nightie:
Please make sure you complete the story. Thanks.

I'll update regularly on the weekends.
I just uploaded a new part.
Enjoy

Chukswrites:

I'll update regularly on the weekends. I just uploaded a new part. Enjoy

Hehe. Thanks

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyyP_Nh6hRE