WAKE UP DEAD (Episode One: Spark of Light)

    According to The Fates, there are four different points in time. The green, yellow, blue, and red points. Series of events that explode into a mould of life – a birth – is the green point. Conflict, is the yellow point. Resolution is the blue point. The end of all things – Death - is the red point. We don’t measure time because we do not exist in it. We are part of a cycle. The future is our past. We do not know how long we have been, and we do not calculate how long we may be. It is what makes us the better species.

 For you, it is the present, but for us, it is two million years ago in the future, and in spite the last wars that tore our world apart, astral beings of the lower plane crave more. The Church tells us to pray more - for forgiveness, for repentance, for strength to fight our weaknesses – and every time I did, I heard only echoes within my existence. No one heard my prayers. Only I did.

      Now was the evening of a Sunday and Father April entertained my presence with nothing but a Bible verse and prayer. He wanted no part in pointless conversations, and disguised his intentions with more Bible verses and prayers, waiting for the candles to burn out. He was different today. His wrinkles were tighter, and his brows met in a furious knot. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. Maybe it was the heat from his enormous garment, or maybe my presence disturbed his purity. Father April was an old maltonic bottle bent by church demands. His hair was painted into colors of grey and silver by the roles he played as spiritual leader to the church, father to a broken family, and entrepreneur of too many business enterprises. His healing powers, prophecies, and uncanny ability to convert Muslims earned him a massive congregation of faithful followers and fanatics who secretly prayed in his name. Over the past years, he had drawn politicians, traditional rulers, and powerful business moguls to his church, making himself one of the strongest public figures in his time. Despite his status and pressures from devoted followers, he did not yield to the temptation of running for a political post in the government. He kept his reasons for refusing the act public. He wanted no part of the world, and would rather dedicate his life and time to the ministry of the Lord. This made his followers assume he was as humble as Christ himself. They even believed he was a god amongst men who would transcend to heaven after his reign on earth was altered by the end of all things, death. Such was the faith in Father April, but I was too enlightened to believe the nonsense. I knew the power behind his mysticism. We gave him. And it is time he learned control over the astral beings he leaked into the material world.

 The candles burned out.

 “We are alone now” I said.

 Father April moved slowly towards a cabinet, his eyes glowing in the dark. After the twist and turn of a key, he pulled a drawer open and brought its contents out:

 ...... a dog-eared parchment, two red candles, a small bag of cowries, brown leaves, broken teeth, a rust dagger with runes on its blade, a black rag........

 “These are the items for summoning the five gods of pain. You asked for them”

 “We only have twelve minutes to contain the spirits after they are summoned. Do you have the strength to proceed after today’s church service Father April?”

 “I cannot let these demons ruin everything I built Bunmi. I must proceed.”

 “You should learn to stop calling them demons. It makes your hypocrisy look silly.”

 I brought out a charcoal, pushed the center table aside and bent down. I dragged the charcoal against the stone floor and created a circle large enough to fill the room. I drew another circle in it, and another, and another, each smaller than the first until it assumed a scattered spiral form. I walked out of the black shapes, bent low again, and started moving around it, carving spells as I moved until they halted in a circle. I stopped, and walked into the middle of the unfinished symbol and drew a triangle in it. I collected the items from Father April and placed them in the middle of the summoning piece, excluding the dagger, and stepped out of it. I stood back, and pulled out my shango wand. Father April stood back too, and pulled out his Bible. Then slowly, I began my incantations.

 Green flames burst out the drawing of black symbols and spells with a gush of wind throwing the room into chaos. Father April almost toppled over the center table behind him, but whirled around and regained his balance. I had expected the sudden commotion so I already had my feet firmly pressed against the stone floor. Only the sides of my unbuttoned blazer fell victim to the rush of the unnatural wind storm. I continued my incantations, louder this time, with a ferocious will. I recited words of power, threatening havoc if the spirits refuse me servitude, and as I pushed the strains on my will, white light exploded from the green flames. I quickly covered my eyes from the blinding flash with the left back of my palm and held out my Sango wand with the other hand cautiously. There was a hiss, then growls, then senile screams resembling those of pained demons. Dust exploded with the increasing light and green flames, and electric coils sparked repeatedly. "Prepare yourself! Here they come!" I screamed to Father April who I could not see now. I heard a faint reply, and turned my Sango wand in readiness.

 Cold.

 A hiss.

 Cat meows

 Why is a cat here?

 I thought the holy ground wasn't meant for mystical creatures as this. Hell, anything goes in the world of scam. As long as you can defend an idea, you can sell it.

 I am Clarence, and it is with a heavy heart I materialized here, meters away from the church's curves, hidden in an artificial brush decorating the side of the marathon cul de sac racing up to the tall, front door of the church.

 I knew tonight would hold grief. I had seen it and planned for it. Immediately Mint's astral engineering alerted my subconscious, I told Israel to send his league of suppressors to meet me here in stealth. I plan to kill Bunmi tonight, and end the madness he began many years back. It was not for the glory, or promotion in the suppressor ranks, and even though I had malice against Bunmi, it was not that that hardened my heart against them.

 It was duty.

 Duty to humanity, the pledge I made during my initiation into suppression. Bunmi forfeited his divine post when he left our path for his selfish desires, wealth and worldly power. Tonight, he pays for his sins!

 Two clicks

 Two clicks

 Glass cracks

 A chill

 Vibrations.

 Noise. Screams. Unearthly. Heat.

 I threw the left side of my overcoat back and pulled out a stone. I watched the church window crack fast. Light bounced off it. Flashes. Something powerful had been summoned, and its familiar feel disturbed me. I crushed the stone in one iron press. Shiny grey liquid seeped through my fingers and crawled around my fist, ran up my arm, and went crazy! In seconds I was covered in shiny grey flowing liquid. If the surpressors I waited for did not arrive soon, the magic craze would throw me into a frenzy. I itched to kill Bunmi, and I wanted no time wasted. But what had they summoned?

 Another eerie scream

 Flame flashes threatened to blind the hurt window.

 Then it hit me.

 The Five Gods of Pain!

 Writer: Jehiel 'III' Omoruyi 

Editors: Jehiel 'III' Omoruyi, Kunle Ishola, Elizabeth