Pastor James took a sip of water before speaking.
"My father was one of the greatest prophets in Ghanaland—not just a prophet, but also a fisherman. He and Assey's father were close friends until the day my father prophesied:
'Your son, Assey, will turn to black magic and one day challenge the power of God. He will have a daughter who will bring an end to everything he has built. If he tries to stop her, he will lose his life. This prophecy will come to pass—it is in your hands to raise your son well.'
Assey's father was furious. He accused my father of cursing his son, claiming that no friend should ever wish death upon another's child. In his rage, he severed all ties with us. When he went home, he told Assey—who had already started his black magic tribe in secret.
Enraged, Assey vowed to prove the prophecy wrong. But instead of avoiding it, he became obsessed with controlling his fate. He swore that if he was destined to have a daughter who would bring his downfall, then he would father that daughter on his own terms—only to destroy her before she could fulfill the prophecy.
And that's when he set his sights on Anna—your mother.
Anna was never supposed to be part of his grand scheme, but she became his pawn. She was an innocent chess piece in his twisted game. He sought her out, manipulated her, and made sure she bore his child—you.
One day, my father left for the shore to fish. The sky was dark and heavy, as if a storm was coming. My mother begged him not to go, but he was determined. We stood at the doorway, watching his back disappear into the distance. It felt like he was saying goodbye without waving his hand.
And truly, he never returned.
I never saw my father again."
Pastor James' voice wavered, his eyes turning red.
My heart clenched. I knew something he didn't.
I stretched my legs and swallowed hard before speaking. "Do you know who killed my grandfather? Do you know where he was buried?"
His eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
I hesitated before answering, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Three days ago, when you collapsed after vomiting, Assey appeared here. He… he told me that he killed Grandfather and buried him at the shore."
Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating.
Pastor James' face twisted with horror. "So you mean… Assey not only killed my father, but also your mother, and now he's trying to—"
"Shhh."
A chilling voice cut him off.
Ruth turned to me slowly, a wicked smile stretching across her face. Her eyes—completely black.
"You didn't count them all," she said.
Then, in a voice that was not her own, she continued,
"I, Assey, killed your grandfather. I killed your mother.
I made Ruth kill your grandmother.
And who's next?
You… or your dear uncle?"
"You're the dark shadow?" a shill ran down my spin when I remembered that night.
"Oh you didn't know? tsk such a slow mind. You might have picked this from your mother." The voice said with a taunting smile.
Uncle James shot to his feet.
"RUTH!!" he shouted.