After Pastor Andrew left, Uncle James went straight to the kitchen. But Ruth was already there.
"From now on, no matter how sick you are, you will go to church with me," he said firmly.
Ruth turned around slowly, a sneer curling on her lips. She reached for a water bottle, its contents shimmering like mercury. To Uncle James, however, it appeared to be nothing more than regular water.
She smiled sweetly as she faced her father. "Dad, take some water and calm your nerves. I'll listen to you and follow you to church." She extended the bottle toward him, her eyes glinting with something sinister.
(From now on, I will make the decisions in this house. After drinking this, you will support me in everything—and even fight anyone who dares to stand in my way.) Ruth thought as she watched her father gulp down the so-called water without hesitation.
For a fleeting moment, Uncle James' eyes turned the same eerie color as the liquid, and the veins on his forehead bulged. But just as quickly, the transformation vanished.
Testing the waters, Ruth spoke in a soft, pitiful voice. "Dad, I don't want to go to church. I want to stay home."
Uncle James nodded. "No one has the right to force you into anything you don't want to do. You can stay home as long as you want. You don't have to go to church ever again." He ruffled Ruth's hair with a proud smile.
That was the moment I walked in.
"What?! Uncle James, did you just say Ruth can stay home as long as she wants—after everything Pastor Andrew told you?" I asked, disbelief washing over me.
But Uncle James' reaction shook me to my core.
He stepped forward, gripping my shoulders tightly—too tightly. Pain shot through me.
"Uncle, let go! You're hurting me!" I protested, trying to pry his fingers off.
"And do you think I don't know what I'm doing?" His voice was low, menacing. "Of course, I know I'm hurting you. In this house, Ruth rules. If you don't like it, you can leave."
At this moment I though about the time I wanted to leave.But now? No. I wouldn't.
Summoning all my strength, I shoved his hand away and stormed upstairs, my shoulder throbbing. As I reached my room, I fought the urge to rip off my clothes and check for bruises.
I needed Pastor Andrew here. Now.
I dialed his number, my fingers trembling. "Pastor Andrew, you need to come to the house immediately. Something is wrong with Uncle James."
He didn't hesitate. "Prepare a bucket of water in the hall. I'll be there soon."
Luckily, he was visiting someone in the neighborhood, so it wasn't long before he arrived.
The moment he stepped into the house, he stilled. I saw it in his eyes—he sensed something. A dark force lurked here.
I sat quietly on the sofa as he began speaking in tongues. His voice carried an authority that made the atmosphere shift.
He dipped his hands into the bucket of water, praying over it, before sprinkling it across the floor. I helped him sprinkle it at the doorstep as well.
Uncle James was the first to emerge.
The moment his feet touched the blessed water, he staggered back, clutching his stomach. Then, in one violent motion, he vomited a thick, mercury-like liquid. The hall filled with the scent of something foul—unnatural.
But that wasn't the worst part.
He ripped off his shirt, revealing a dark viper tattoo slithering across his back.
And then, in a moment I could hardly comprehend, the tattoo moved. The viper peeled off his skin and fell to the ground, writhing before shriveling up and dying on the spot.
Uncle James collapsed.
Upstairs, movement caught my eye. I turned just in time to see Ruth standing at the railing, watching us. Her expression was unreadable. But the second she realized we had seen her, she bolted into her room, slamming the door shut.
Had she forgotten we shared the same room?
Without hesitation, I unlocked it and dragged her downstairs. She kicked and struggled, but I held her firm as Pastor Andrew took the remaining blessed water and poured it over her.
The reaction was immediate.
A figure materialized before us—a man clad in a rich kente cloth, his dark skin burning and sizzling from the water. He recoiled, breathing heavily, his eyes locked onto mine.
I knew who he was.
Assey.
My father.
A shiver ran down my spine as he glared at me with unmasked hatred.
Then, in a voice laced with venom, he spoke words that shook me to my very core.
"I will kill you—just like I did to your grandfather."
I blinked and frowned. Did he just say he killed my grandfather???