Chapter 1: The Return
The rhythmic hum of the bus engine was a distant drone in Nomvula’s ears, but her mind was far from the dusty road winding its way back to her village. She hadn’t been home in years, not since she left for the city to pursue her studies. The world she left behind felt distant, almost dreamlike. Now, though, the village seemed to be pulling her back, calling her with an ancient, unshakable force.The bus jolted over a bump, snapping her out of her reverie. She glanced out the window. The landscape was as she remembered—vast stretches of open land, dotted with small huts and farms. The sky was an oppressive grey, as though even the heavens were mourning something.
Nomvula’s heart tightened. Her mother had died a week ago. The funeral had already passed, the arrangements made by distant relatives who barely knew her anymore. But it wasn’t just grief that gnawed at her. Her mother’s death was sudden, mysterious. No one had explained how a healthy woman could die so quickly, and no one seemed willing to talk about it.
As the bus pulled into the village, she saw familiar faces, many older now, worn by time. But something was different. The village felt... colder. Less alive. The vibrant colors and warmth she remembered were gone, replaced by a tension that clung to the air like fog.
She stepped off the bus, her suitcase thumping on the dry earth. People barely acknowledged her, even the children who used to run up to her with laughter and curiosity. Something had shifted here, and Nomvula could feel it in her bones.
“Nomvula!” A voice called out from the distance.
Turning, she saw her younger brother, Thando, rushing towards her. He had grown taller, his face more angular, but his eyes still carried the same warmth she remembered.
“Thando!” She embraced him tightly, grateful for at least one familiar connection.
“I’m glad you’re home,” he said, pulling back. But there was a flicker of something in his expression—an unease he couldn’t quite hide. “Things have been... strange.”
Nomvula nodded, glancing around. “I felt it the moment I arrived.”
Thando hesitated for a moment, then leaned in closer. “It’s not just mom’s death. People have been disappearing, and there are whispers... about witchcraft.”
Nomvula’s blood ran cold. She had heard the stories growing up, but they were always just that—stories. Myths meant to scare children into behaving. But the look in her brother’s eyes was all too real.
As they walked towards their old home, the sun began to sink beneath the horizon, casting long shadows over the village. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it an ominous sense of foreboding.
When they reached the house, Nomvula felt an inexplicable chill. The air around it felt different—thick, heavy, as though something unseen was watching her. She hadn’t expected to feel this way, not here, not at the place she had once called home.
Inside, the house was dim, and the once vibrant walls seemed faded. On the small wooden table, candles flickered weakly, casting wavering shadows across the room. A framed photo of their mother sat in the center, her eyes staring back at them with a haunting sadness.
“We need to talk to Gogo Sibongile,” Thando said quietly. “She knows things... things that might help us understand what’s happening.”
Nomvula nodded, though she wasn’t sure she was ready for what that might entail. The village elder had always been an enigmatic figure, a keeper of traditions that seemed to teeter on the edge of the supernatural.
As they sat in silence, the wind outside picked up, howling like a distant scream. The night had only just begun, but already Nomvula could feel the weight of something dark pressing in, something that had been waiting for her return.
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mhh
Posted on November 9, 2024, 8:21 amattentuiom
Posted on November 9, 2024, 8:21 am