Jaja Kagomesi Part 2 #UgBlogWeek

#UGBlogWeek is with us again and I am here to throw in my 2 cents worth. With this particular challenge, I was eager to see if anyone ventured into speculative fiction. No one did but this post was close enough for me to take it in the direction of fantasy fiction. Without further ado, I give you Jaja Kagomesi Part 2.


Denise Kavuma.


Ritah bent again over my bed and started to feel for me. Her scissors hummed the tune “kaka kaka kaka kalabanda.” And then, just then I felt her hand touch my feet… 

Or what I think was her hand. It felt like a hand made from the glaciers of the North Pole and a coldness spread from it, pervading my entire body until I shivered in horror. This was not right. “There’s warmth in the hands of the living,” the pastor had said last Sunday and I wasn’t sure what he was talking about then but now, now, I knew. Knowledge hardly ever comes with serenity and the moment understanding hit me, I pulled my leg back, my mouth opening to scream almost immediately.

However, no sound came out. That terrified me more than the thought that my decker-mate was possessed.

Flight or fight response, our biology teacher had called it, I remembered as my mind scrambled to understand what was happening. The pounding in my head was in synch with the one in my chest and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I gasped as I tried to scream again, tried to call for help but the only sound I could hear was the snikt-snikt of Ritah’s scissors as she opened and closed them in rhythm. It was a silly poem we’d all spoken as children and now, that rhythm was to lead my death march.

Where is she? Get her for us. Yes, get her for us,” that gravelly voice spoke again.

I felt tears start to prickle in my eyes as my chest struggled to get in enough air. Fight or flight, I remembered and without quite deciding to, I started to scramble out of the other side of the bed. Flight it was then.

That was not to be however, as Ritah lunged at me, icy hands digging into my flesh and hurting me, her scissors pressing against my skin but not yet piercing it. This wasn’t right. My brain tried again to understand what was happening and despite the unprecedented nature of my situation, I felt a… A wrongness. An evil which thickened the air around me. It felt like it was concentrated on me and I tried to call out to Ritah again but in vain.

Then it hit me. The reason why I felt terrified despite my brain not being able to process fully the situation. Ritah wasn’t even looking at me. Somehow, she’d felt around for my head and grabbed onto me with her own head turned to the side. Just… How? As if whatever had taken hold of my decker-mate heard my thoughts though, Ritah’s head started to turn towards me, slowly until we were face to face in the dim lighting.

I wasn’t sure what I had expected to see but the blank face of my roommate staring back at me, eyes glassy but nonetheless looking normal, wasn’t it. She didn’t look possessed. Not at all and I was starting to think that perhaps this was a sick joke. Then she opened her mouth to speak.

“Why does she look at us like that? Does she not know?” that deep voice spoke again and I felt like its words were grating on my very soul. “She does not know. She does not know.”

The voice came out but Ritah’s mouth didn’t move in synch with the words. It was bizarre the way she opened and closed her mouth as the words came out. She looked like a… Like a sock puppet and even though I knew her hands were holding me so tightly I should have been feeling pain, I felt numb. The terror within me had reached a crescendo and I am certain that the wetness I felt beneath me was my own urine.

Who are you? I tried to ask but nothing came out even though my lips moved. Perhaps I too was a puppet. I almost flinched at the thought but could not as Ritah’s grip held me in place.

It asks us who we are. She dares to ask whom. It… She does not know,” the voice came out from Ritah’s mouth again. “It should ask what we are.

I stared at the glassy eyes of my decker-mate, as her mouth remained hanging open. I knew then, I just knew what that meant. Puppets are not living after all, but I asked anyway.

What are you? I mouthed.

She asks now. Yes, yes, she belongs to us because she asks. We seek those whose vessels are empty. We are the envoys of Kagomesi.

I was sure that if I’d had the use of my voice, a whimper would have escaped me. As it were, I just shuddered beneath the glassy stare of whatever entity lay inside my friend’s body. She was dead… I knew it. That made me angry. Ritah had been a little crazy but she’d always danced to her own beat and now… Now these things had…

Before I knew what I was doing, I bent my leg and kicked at Ritah’s chest as hard as I could. Fight it was now. Today was not the day I died! Ritah’s body stumbled back and staggered awkwardly for a few seconds. Seconds in which I felt hope growing that perhaps I could fight back. I would not go down quietly and indeed, Jesus seemed to be with me for someone turned on the dormitory’s light switch and white light flooded the room. My hope grew and I got off the decker as quickly as I could, ready to yell for help.

Except no sound came out.

I clutched at my throat and froze in horror as one by one the girls in the room started sitting up in their beds, heads turning towards me to reveal glassy eyes. Then as if on cue, they opened their mouths and moved them like sock puppets, lips not quite forming the words. Like an eerie choir, they all started chanting.

Kaka kaka kaka kalabanda…


To be continued.

Image: Cinemablend.


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