Chapter 2: Gogo Sibongile
The next morning, the sun barely broke through the grey clouds hanging over the village, casting everything in a dull, lifeless light. Nomvula and Thando made their way through the narrow dirt paths that snaked between small huts, leading them toward the outskirts of the village where Gogo Sibongile lived. The old woman had always kept to herself, but she was known as the village’s keeper of secrets, the one who carried the weight of their history.As they approached her home, Nomvula felt the air grow heavier, the ground beneath her feet almost vibrating with something unseen. Thando walked ahead, his shoulders stiff with unease.
"Do you think she knows?" Nomvula asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Thando didn’t turn to look at her. "If anyone does, it’s Gogo. But... we have to be careful. People say she's not as she once was."
They stopped in front of a small, weathered hut surrounded by overgrown bushes and a crumbling stone fence. The door, barely hanging on its hinges, creaked open as if anticipating their arrival.
Inside, the dim light from the single window illuminated a figure sitting in the center of the room. Gogo Sibongile. Her back was to them, her hunched frame wrapped in layers of cloth, a sharp contrast to the faint glow of the smoldering fire in front of her.
"Come in, children," her voice croaked, aged and brittle, as if she had already known they were coming.
Nomvula exchanged a glance with Thando before stepping inside. The air was thick with the smell of burning herbs, and something else—something metallic, like the scent of blood. She felt an immediate tension in her chest, but there was no turning back now.
"Sit," Gogo Sibongile commanded, not turning to face them.
They obeyed, sitting on the worn mats beside the fire. The flames flickered in the hearth, casting long shadows across the walls. Nomvula could feel the heat, but it did nothing to warm the chill running down her spine.
"I know why you're here," Gogo Sibongile finally spoke, her voice low, almost a whisper. "Your mother's death... the disappearances... they are all connected. The village is cursed, Nomvula, and it has been for a long time."
Nomvula swallowed hard. "A curse?"
"Yes. One rooted in dark magic. Witchcraft," Gogo said the word as if it carried a weight she could barely bear. "It is an ancient evil that runs through the blood of this village, a power that should have been buried long ago."
Thando shifted beside her, uncomfortable. "What does this have to do with our mother?"
Gogo Sibongile finally turned, her face illuminated by the flickering firelight. Her eyes, clouded with age, seemed to pierce straight through Nomvula. "Your mother was part of something she could not escape. It has claimed her, and now, it will come for others."
Nomvula felt a sudden tightness in her throat. Her mother had never spoken of any of this—of curses, of magic. "What do you mean? What was she part of?"
The old woman’s gaze hardened. "The bloodline. It is tainted with dark power. Your ancestors practiced the forbidden arts, and now, it falls on you to either break the curse... or succumb to it."
Nomvula felt the room spinning, the weight of Gogo's words pressing down on her. "How do we stop it?" she asked, her voice barely steady.
Gogo Sibongile leaned closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "There is a ritual... an ancient one. But it is not without cost. You must be willing to face the darkness head-on, Nomvula. The spirits of the ancestors will guide you, but they may not always protect you."
Thando’s eyes widened. "A ritual? What kind of ritual?"
Before Gogo could answer, the door creaked open behind them, sending a chill down Nomvula’s spine. She turned to see no one—just the dark, empty doorway. But she could feel it—the presence of something watching them from the shadows, something that had been waiting for this very moment.
Gogo Sibongile’s voice turned grave. "You are not alone here. The eyes of the dark ones are upon you."
Nomvula’s heart pounded as she glanced at Thando, who looked equally shaken. Whatever they were facing, it was far more dangerous than she had imagined. But deep down, she knew there was no turning back. The village was caught in something ancient, something evil, and it was up to her to stop it.
"You must return tonight," Gogo Sibongile said, her voice steady despite the growing tension in the room. "When the moon is at its peak, the veil between worlds will be thin. That is when the ritual must begin."
Nomvula stood up slowly, her legs trembling beneath her. The weight of what Gogo had told her settled heavy on her shoulders. She felt Thando rise beside her, though he didn’t speak. There were no words for what they were about to face.
As they stepped outside, the cold air hit her like a slap, and the village seemed even quieter than before, as if it were holding its breath. Nomvula glanced at the sky—dark clouds rolled ominously in the distance, threatening to swallow the light of the sun entirely.
"We need to prepare," she whispered to Thando, though she wasn’t sure how to prepare for something like this. Her mother’s death, the disappearances, the curse—it all felt like too much to comprehend.
Thando nodded, his face pale. "I don't know if we can trust her, but we don't have a choice."
They walked back toward the village in silence, both of them knowing that whatever was coming, it would change everything.
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Posted on November 11, 2024, 1:58 pm