My Neighbor Set Me Up for Ritual / Chapter 5: The Hunt
My Neighbor Set Me Up for Ritual

My Neighbor Set Me Up for Ritual

Author: Caitlyn Cummings

Chapter 5: The Hunt

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Cold sweat just dey my back.

As I rub hand for face, I dey feel like say all my body dey shake. No fan, no light, just darkness and small phone torch. Estate silent—no even hear dog bark. Na only fear dey shout for my head.

If 101 talk true, na big locked room we dey.

No escape. Like all those Agatha Christie film, but this one worse. I dey inside cage with lion, and I no even sabi who be the lion.

And if wetin 302 talk na fact, the neighbors wey claim my body parts go soon come for me.

I dey look my clock. Time slow. I dey count every second, dey wonder when next wahala go burst.

Now-now, all of them dey eye 202.

I dey feel eye wey I no dey see. Maybe dem dey plan for group, dey message each other. I dey wish say I fit disappear like breeze.

I must escape.

I dey look my small room—no vent, no back door, only window wey dey face gutter. My mind dey calculate if I fit survive jump.

But where I wan go?

No be say police go even gree help, with the way officer dey act. If I enter outside, na ritual I dey go meet. My head dey hot.

So far, na only 302 dey act like helper.

But I dey remember wetin 602 talk—if 302 na the trap, I no fit run go e house. For this kain time, trust na luxury.

But as I dey look our chat, I no fit trust am to go hide for him place.

No trust for anybody again. Even friend fit turn enemy when wahala dey ground.

Because I no even know the six people wey claim my parts.

I dey reason say, anybody for this estate fit dey among. Maybe the quiet lady wey dey sweep corridor, or the small boy wey dey sell gala for gate.

Wetin if 302 join dem?

E fit dey play both side. E fit dey use chat deceive me, make I come e side, then finish me.

I think tire, only one idea come—

I rub my forehead, dey sweat, dey pray for small sense. I no get weapon, no get power. Only way na to make enough wahala wey go draw attention come my side.

Call police again. Make wahala. Maybe if dem carry me go station, I go safe there.

At least for cell, na only hunger and mosquito I go fight.

But just then, another WhatsApp message pop:

"You never comot, abi? No try comot. If you comot, na die sure pass."

The tone strong, warning dey the message. My hand dey tremble. I dey wonder who dey send me this kain direct threat for midnight.

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