the exorcism of the dark village (standard:adventure, 2871 words)
Author: sean	Added: Aug 16 2003	Views/Reads: 3522/2326	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
its a typical story of an exorcism.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

was also that annoying stupid rhythm blasting of from the car... 
Pu-phat, pu-phat, pu-phat... even with labaja's music on at full 
volume, I could still hear it pu-phat, pu-phat, pu-phat... Ibu, in a 
local language could be translated as ‘the dark village'. So the car 
was going back to where it came from (I told the driver to come check 
me up on Saturday, by then I might have finished the exorcism) but that 
stupid rhythmic sound sure didn't stop pu-phatting. I had my luggage in 
my hand and I'd just of loaded. So I walked stood there staring on a 
pathway with two huge bushes at both opposite sides feeling like a 
king-probably because I was wearing an oxxy trendy wear T-shirt and I 
was sure I put on my Calvin Kline boxers so yes! I was better than 
anybody in this village or should I say-things in this village. I've 
watched some documentaries on the discovery channel describing some 
third world countries and this village fits that description just fine. 
I never say any body yet; I had to walk at least a mile before I could 
reach the actual village. “Those villagers will worship me like a 
........”.  Before I could finish this thought I notices a strange 
figure lurking behind the bush... “King” I finished my thought when I 
saw that the figure had noticed I was looking at it and ran off. So I 
kept following that small path hoping it would lead me to Ibu village 
by this time I had already smoked two cigarettes. The thought of ever 
quitting the smokes never crossed my mind. “ The lord will understand, 
without the smokes I can't preach, I can't handle the very cold weather 
so I had to take that fake recommendation from that quake doctor”. Am I 
a real pastor? That thought always crossed my mind you never see a 
pastor smoking like I do (that's if real pastors ever smoke) I mean in 
a day I finish 56 sticks of Marlboro probably the best cigarettes in 
the world   and then 28 sticks of Benson and Henson (I select my 
smokes) so why quit now? I'm an exorcist; I know the bible and even 
after finishing a stick of cigarette (and washing the odor out of my 
mouth with a bottle of coke) I can still cast out demons like any other 
exorcist. It's not like the lord proclaimed no smoking in the bible. 
The smokes to me are what America is to the world; you can do with or 
without it-mostly with it. Sometimes I wonder if I used the lord's name 
to deliver people or the devils. My dad is a well-known mafia 
gang-lord, but they as more to just desert eagles and AK-47' s – there 
were more spiritual things to it. My dad did everything humanly 
possible to get me into his cult/mafia, but I refused he did every 
thing to convince me- even killed my wife and kid but I followed my 
‘Christian' faith stubbornly. I often wondered about the deep cut on my 
left thigh. I read some stories some Wale Adenuga stories about someone 
who had a mark of the devil and did miracles with the lord's name his 
name was Fashune. “Could this have been my case? No way just no way”. I 
thought. I finally got to the ‘dark village' after 15 minutes to 
walking. Not a scary sight but fit those discovery channels 
descriptions of the third world countries. The place was old I mean 
ancient. I had begun to see people, about six I beaconed on one of them 
wandering about. “Excuse me, but could you have anywhere I can sleep 
this night? I'm from the city”. The man put his first finger under his 
lower lip and took up a thinking gesture. “Think, think you must have a 
place in this shack of a village”. I thought. “Yeeeeeees!” he replied. 
“Nooooooo...yessssss... Noooooooo...” “Is this man nuts?”. I thought 
asking my self. Suddenly two hefty men wearing only a trouser ran up to 
us and then they lifted the man up and took him away with the man 
screaming aloud. “Argh...arghft!” Then another man-a gentleman walked 
towards me. “Thank you!” he smiled. “That man is mad, he's my uncle no 
one could seem to cool him down, he had just murdered two people back 
there”. The man then asked me seriously. “Do you need a place to stay?” 
“You just read my mind”. I thought. “Yes” I answered. The man led me up 
north to one house. “This was my uncle's”. He said, cheekily. “He 
wouldn't be needing it for a long time, if you know what I mean”. At 
first I didn't get the catch but later I did and I went... “Oh...okay 
yes okay!” then I smiled at him, took the keys from him and entered the 
house. I removed my cloths and other stuff that was in my bag and then 
sat on the bed when I remembered I forgot my most valuable possession 
My bible (but I didn't forget my packets of cigarettes and my lighter). 
“There is no leaving this demon village until Saturday!” I muttered to 
my self. I took up a stick of Marlboro and as I was about to put it in 
my mouth when a thought came to me... “What kind of pastor are you? 
Smoking? You just came here without your bible and you're about to 
smoke?”  I dropped the cigarette down on the table, there's no time for 
that now, I didn't even notice the lighter maybe I dropped it on my way 
here. I put my hands on my head and said “Billy cooper, you're in big 
trouble!” But if I didn't tell people my mission here I wouldn't have 
any enemies and I would not need my bible. After thinking of this I 
nodded my head slowly. “When I'm ready, I'll return”. I thought to my 
self. I lay down and slept. Later I was awoken by a noise I heard 
outside, I looked at the clock and it was one ‘oh' clock. I'll never 
forget it, that day was the day I'll sure never forget. Normally when 
ever I wake up that late I have some unusual flashbacks but this night 
I had none. The door had shifted from its normal position like somebody 
had come in to beat me up telling me to wake up; actually I did feel 
some pain on my neck. I walked out of the house because the room was as 
dark as the infamous ATM prison. I walked out to get some light but 
outside was even darker. I noticed this two fairy creatures playing 
outside just about the height of an Internet pole, yes that high. They 
were half man half birds and I could see them faintly. “The blood of 
Jesus!” I yelled at them. Saying that when I see strange things was 
like a voluntary action for me; whenever I see a rat or a cockroach 
crawling up my leg- there I go “the blood of-“. The two fairy creatures 
flew off immediately. Perhaps they were shocked at the loud noise I 
made. The next morning, about eight ‘o'clock I was outside busy puffing 
up a cigarette a man was walking towards my house authoritatively like 
he had been sent there to drive me out of the village. “I am not going 
anywhere”. I thought. And with the way he was looking at me I knew he 
was coming to act and not to speak. He was coming very close to me when 
suddenly; he stopped fell down and died! I quickly threw my cigarette 
and ran to the aid of the man but I had to retreat when two giant frogs 
jumped out of his Agbada. I knew he was going to kill me right from the 
moment I saw him. Was the lord still with me? I gave up my faith when I 
noticed I did not come along with my bible, is he still guiding me? The 
only thing I said relating to him was the blood of  -. So how come he 
still protects me? “He's not”. Replied a voice to me, like the person 
was hearing my thoughts. When I turned around I saw a woman dressed in 
red attire. I gasped! I wore up a question marked face I tried to say 
something meaningful but all that came out of my mouth that minute was 
“Who...where...how...?” I was having a shared attention between the 
woman in red and the dead man. I wished I could look at them both at 
the same time but I couldn't. I kept thinking “what if that dead man 
stabbed me with a knife from behind?” I was totally confused, before I 
could take a look at the dead man and look at the spot where the 
strange woman stood she had disappeared and so did the man. I quickly 
ran aiming for my house and there she was again right on my doorstep, 
standing, looking at me sternly. I was now at the peak of my fear. “Who 
are you?” I asked her. “I'm your mother!” “My mother?” Two hours, two 
hours it took for her to narrate to me from how she persuaded me to 
come to this village through the dream and how she marked my left thigh 
when I was only three years old and gave me some powers of protection 
(that explains why I haven't gotten cancer from those cigarettes I've 
been smoking) I actually knew that woman when I was little, she was our 
next door neighbor or in the guise of our neighbor when she was the 
queen of the coasts. The lord wasn't with me all this while, the lord 
wasn't using me to perform all those miracles and exorcisms it was just 
her, her all along giving those women children, healing those sick 
people, breaking those curses-on now I know, I know everything. Just 
then I could hear some faint sounds of some people clapping their hands 
and then I remembered that strange piece of paper on my table on that 
night about those missionaries. She threw her right hand to my chest 
and said, “Come on son, lets join powers and rule the coasts of this 
village”. I looked back at her and exclaimed. “Get behind me witch!” 
She quickly cried out in pain. “Nooooo!” and then she disappeared. I 
then felt the scar on my thigh and found out it was gone (later I found 
out it was still there thanks to those thick jeans I was wearing) the 
real missionaries had come to deliver the village from the evil reign 
of the demons that ruled it. Right now I'm in a psychiatric hospital, 
how can I convince this guys that I'm not crazy, how? The only time 
they ever listen to me is when I ask for a stick of cigarette. Many 
churches had come to me asking for me to allow then conduct an exorcism 
on me, but I say No! This is what I am and what I will forever 
be...there was no exorcism, you've just been ripped off. Har, Har, Har, 
Har, Har, Har, Har...hmmm. 

Sean says... 


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