Jonathan and Other Weird Stories

Jonathan, See-quelling (four)

"You should sit for this story." Jonathan gestured at one of the benches beside them.

Funmi glanced at it. The benches were dead wood, old and sickly, like they would collapse under her weight. And they did not even have back support, just plain, old benches. What kind of church is this? "I think I'll just keep standing."

"Fine. Well, the woman's name is Adesuwa. A hundred years ago, she—"

"Do not feed me fairy tales," Funmi said, her face contorted with disgust. "Hundred years?"

Jonathan frowned. "Do you want to know about Adesuwa or not?"

Funmi scoffed. She sat at the edge of a bench and crossed her legs to cover her part. "Why are we here telling stories, when we should be fleeing? If this Adesuwa is truly here, then shouldn't we—"

"Wait, how do you know she's here?" His eyes widened in fear and darted around the corners of the church. He turned back to Funmi. "You saw her?"

"No... Just that I heard her voice in my head, which means she must be close, right?"

Jonathan sighed in relief. "Not exactly. She could be far away and still find her way to your head; it's a little trick of hers. Like telepathy. But that also means she knows you're here, and she'll come for you before your sedation wears off. But don't worry, she won't come into the church. I know she won't. She hates the church, and that's why I stay here. As long as you remain here, you'll be safe from her."

"You're afraid of her," Funmi said softly, staring at him like she could finally see through him.

Jonathan stared down at her with this cold, dark look in his eyes, that grabbed Funmi's attention and held it. She wanted to hear his story now. And as though he could read her mind, he continued: "Adesuwa lived hundred years ago. At first, everyone thought she was just an ordinary young woman, with pretty brown eyes and hair as dark as the richest soil. Everyone loved her, because she played her part in protecting the other girls from the serial rapist."

Funmi uncrossed her legs, once again losing interest in guarding her body. "The serial rapist?"

"Someone was raping young girls in the village, one by one, until the girls bled to death. Every girl was terrified and forced to stay inside; every parent feared for their daughters. And yet, every now and then, a girl would go missing and her body would be found in the bushes a few days later, mauled by wild animals. At first, the villagers thought it was the animals killing the girls, until they discovered that the girls were being raped, because their vaginas were always brutalized and their thighs were stained with blood. Apparently, the rapist left the girls for wild animals to finish off. Also, no boy went missing. Only the girls.

"The situation worsened. And every girl was locked in their homes by their parents. Adesuwa rose to the situation. She urged the other girls to take control of their lives and about 20 of them formed a fierce group, charged with protecting other girls in the village. These girls were ruthless—who could blame them? Led by Adesuwa herself, every evening they would walk around with canes in their hands, flogging any man they see on the street, like vigilantes. On one occasion, they even set a man on fire for harassing a girl. Oh, I just remembered your fear of fire. Sorry. Anyway, Adesuwa taught them, trained them to fight and encouraged them to protect their sisters. And for a while, it worked. The deaths reduced and Adesuwa was a hero. Well, that was until the girls in Adesuwa's group started dying off one by one. In the same fashion. Raped to death."

Funmi rose to her feet. She did not feel comfortable with sitting anymore—it made her feel too relaxed. She held herself tighter, shivering, and her teeth clattered subtly. She needed clothes. Not just to hide her body, but to protect herself from the cold, which grew worse every second. The crucifix grated against the wall, like someone had pushed it. Funmi gasped. She turned to it and it hung there still, unmoved. She glanced at the clothes covering the crucifix again and she gulped, wishing she could grab them. Her gaze shifted to the ugly, blackened feet of Jesus's decayed statue—surely, Jesus wouldn't mind if she stole the clothes. She sighed. The air also made the smell of the burnt meat stronger, too much to tolerate, and Funmi did not like the smell anymore. She stared at Jonathan with a gleam in her eyes, trying to summon the expected pity for the girls being raped to death.

"But the girls weren't exactly being raped," said Jonathan. "And wild animals did not maul their corpses either. It was all Adesuwa. No one suspected her. Who would suspect a pretty, young woman of raping other girls? It made no sense, which is exactly why Adesuwa made it this way."

"But why?" Funmi asked, rubbing her hands on her face to create some heat. "Why would she do that? Why would anyone?"

Jonathan shrugged. "Adesuwa had one child, a sickly son. No one was sure why, but he fell sick too often, like his blood was just bad. Actually, what he had was the sickle cell, and everyone was sure he would die. There was no cure. The poor bastard. No, for real, he was a bastard, and no one knew his father. Anyway, Adesuwa took it upon herself to save his life with juju. She would use her telepathy to lure the girls into the forest, by planting curious thoughts in their heads—thoughts they could not resist. Then she would attack them, rip their clothes off and force her way through their thighs. 'Open your thighs,' she would yell, over and over, and stab them until they complied, then she would ram a wood into their vaginas, and continue until they bleed to death. Then she would tear into their bodies and extract the uterus. She needed it for a concoction she made for her son, and each time he drank it, he would feel better. Sometimes, she drank it too. It made her stronger and more powerful, hungry for more, and it started to seem like she was harvesting the uterus more for herself than for her son."

Funmi curled in irritation, repulsed, like she was the one drinking the concoction and she had never been so disgusted by anything. "She needed a uterus to heal her son?"

Jonathan nodded gently, like his head weighed on him. "She used to say a uterus is the most powerful natural thing known to man. Human life begins there; and human life takes its form there. She believed it had magical properties that she could harness—the same properties that helped a baby grow in the uterus. Such power. She wanted it all. And she considered herself to be a servant of nature. 'Why shouldn't I harvest what nature has provided?' she would say. Well, now you know why she'll kill you, and you know how she's going to do it. And seeing as you're already naked, looks like your dirty pervasions have made things easier for her."

Funmi's lips were agape. She slumped on the bench, lost for words, forgetting that the bench might crumble beneath her. "Why did Adesuwa tell me to open my eyes? Her words weren't so clear, but it sounded like she said, 'Open your true eyes.' Why was she trying to help me?"

Jonathan stared at Funmi intently. "She wasn't trying to help you. Maybe she didn't say, 'Open your true eyes.' Maybe she was trying to say, 'Open your thighs.' As in, spread your legs for her."

"Oh God," Funmi said it like a sigh. As she sat there trembling, panic began to set in, filling her head with dread. She felt like a sitting duck, just sitting there and waiting, completely naked and powerless. She wanted to do something, to make the first move. She wanted to run. Her breathing grew heavier, fueled by her heartbeat thumping in her chest, and it came from the fear that she wouldn't survive. "Oh God, Oh God... I have to leave this place." She jumped on her feet and darted towards the door, which was a few feet away, but Jonathan grabbed her arm. "Let me go," she yelled at him.

"Go where?" he yelled back, his voice was even louder. "This church is the only place that is safe. You have to stay, if you want to survive, and wait for the sedation to wear off. I've been here for too many years. I never left. It's how I've survived, but I know she's out there, and I'm sure you know it too."

Funmi stole her arm from his grasp, but she did not run anymore, and yet she panted like she just ran a race. "How do you even know all this?"

"It's not obvious?" said Jonathan, his eyes were glazed. "I'm her son. I'm the sickly, bastard boy who drank the concoctions to stay alive."