We made our way into the house, it was our very first house that we owned, my dad had spent a fortune buying the house, and made the payment in full and paid all at once. My dad hated the idea of a mortgage, cos he felt it was like having a debt on tyour head and my dad hated anything that had to do with having debts.
I made my way into my room hurriedly and placed my bad on my bed and then after exploring the new house and having a shower i noticed a small folded piece of paper tucked inside my bag.
I only noticed it because i knew it wasn’t mine. I don’t fold notes neatly, and this one was folded like someone actually cared about how it looked. For a second, I thought maybe someone dropped it in my bag by mistake during class.
But when I opened it, my chest tightened. There was only one thing written on it and that was a name. The name written on the paper was “Sadiq.” and that was it. No message and no explanation. Just a name, and also at the bottom was a date, tomorrow’s date. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Sadiq was a common name. I knew at least three people with that name on campus alone. It could have been anything, a reminder, a joke, something random that found its way into my bag. I even laughed about it with that night. “Maybe it’s a hit list,” i thought.
I rolled my eyes and tossed the paper onto my desk. “If it is, then whoever wrote it needs better handwriting,” I said in my mind and laughed. The next day, around evening, my phone buzzed. A message in the group chat, at first, I didn’t open it. But when more messages started coming in, I tapped it and I froze. “Did you guys hear about Sadiq?” He’s dead It was a car accident this afternoon…” My stomach dropped. I stared at the screen, then slowly turned my head toward the desk. The note was still there but I told myself it was coincidence, no It had to be. There are a lot of people named Sadiq, these things happen, accidents happen.
The next morning, I found another note but this time, it wasn’t in my bag, it was on my pillow. It was the same handwriting and on a similar paper, my hands shook as i picked it up this time around, it was another name. “Amaka.” The date was tomorrows date , yet again. I grabbed my phone immediately and called Amaka. She picked up, laughing about something like everything was normal.
“Hey, what’s up?” she said.
“Are you okay?” I asked quickly.
She paused. “Yeah why?”
I didn’t know what to say.
“Just be careful today,” I muttered.
She laughed again. “Okay?
The next day, i called again, this time around she didn’t pick up my call. By evening, the news spread. Amaka was gone, they said she just collapsed suddenly.No clear explanation as to what happened that’s when fear stopped being a thought and became something real. The notes kept coming, every single day, a new name, anew date and every time it was the same result. They would die. Not always the same way, but in different way. I tried everything, throwing the notes away, burning the notes, ignoring them but nothing mattered, they just kept coming and coming.
That’s when I started asking questions. When did this start and my answers came back to when we first moved to the house and the people who lived here before us. I kept enquiring and an old neighbor was the one who finally said it. “You shouldn’t have moved in there,” she muttered. “The last family, they weren’t normal.”
According to her, the previous occupants were deeply involved in rituals and not the harmless kind but something real dark
“ I heard they tried to summon something,” she said quietly. My chest tightened and my breath got heavier .“And?” I asked
“They couldn’t finish it,” she replied.
“The one leading it, died before they could seal it back.”
That night, I sat in my room, staring at the latest note and then it sorta hit me, this wasnt just killing, it was playing. A prank, whatever it wasn’t just taking lives. It enjoyed the dilemma i was in. I didn’t know much about rituals but i knew one thing and that was that if something could be summoned, then it could be banished
It took days of searching, old texts, forums and basically anything I could find. It all sounded insane but I didn’t have the luxury of doubt anymore. The next time a note appeared, I didn’t panic, Instead, I prepared. At midnight, i placed the note in the center of the room with candles lit around it, symbols drawn carefully and my heart pounded with every step.
“Show yourself,” I said. I hysterical laugh followed and it finally said.
“You finally understand.”
“I’m ending this,” I said, forcing the words out.
“You think you can?”The note on the floor trembled, the name on it began to fade and rewrite itself with more name and more notes appearing, almost endless.
“This isn’t your game anymore,” I said.
And I began.
The words felt heavy in my mouth, but i started the incantation, half believing in myself cos i learned the words on reddit
“You were meant to watch!” it roared.
“I’m done watching,” I replied.
The final words of the incantation left my lips and everything stopped., this time the note lay still but this time around it was blank. I collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, morning arrived slowly. I picked up the note., it was still blank, no name , no date , nothing on it, it was blank. Just a paper.
The Images are A.I generated!.
Oh my days. Those innocent souls 🥺
They paid the price for something they didn’t have a hand in. This may just be fiction but it’s close to some people’s reality. May we not end up victims of other people’s bad decisions.
Lovely story btw
Thank you