Oduemgwu claimed that the Multimillionaire businessman died in a small room. A room fit to be called a hut, for it was empty and not so pleasing to the eye – a compartment not suitable for someone of his caliber.
Mr. Felix was too honorable for comparison to the typical asylum broken-free fellow who ran almost stark naked in the public square who deserved to be in such room, unlike the cool and respectable man whose dwelling was a mansion.
Sometimes it happened to be that Odumegwu was severe in manners and very unpredictable. Sometimes he could be levelheaded, at other times, completely irrational. He was never that way to his visitors. He accepted them and was loyal to them.
Odumegwu watched the young woman climb up the staircase like some oldie who could fall off at any moment. The stairs were made of clay and had a funny look.
“Why do we even have to be here?” Mr.Lucas asked, already feeling disgusted.
“To see the flying witches act,” answered Odumegwu with an attempt at humor, but soon found out none was interested in his jokes and continued rather seriously, “The witch doctor would evoke his spirit right here.”
“And how would they do that?” asked Mr. Lucas in disbelieve.
“It is for the witch doctor to determine.”
“Witchdoctor?!!” the three chorused unbelievably.
As they came closer to the top of the stairs, Odumegwu took a key out of his pocket.
Mr. Lucas looked at him suspiciously. “Why do you keep the door locked?” he asked.
“Because this room has such a spiritual significance,” Odumegwu answered simply and sadly.
Mr. Lucas stared at him coldly as if he was a clown from the mumbo-jumbo space ship, but it was of no use as Odumegwu looked away and cared less of what the others thought.
The two men talked for several minutes in a hushed tone that Juliana was unable to hear, however as they were about to open the door, she trembled. Her face showed such deep anxiety and terror that her husband had to encourage her.
“Just stay calm, and have no fear. All will be over in a minute once the witch doctor performs his rite,” he said, “You should try as much as possible to stay calm and pray that nothing happens. We need to remain calm.”
But Julie was more confused. A lot went through her mind that seemed quite unexplainable but scared to ask she was. Firstly, why do they need a witch, or whatever they called him, to invoke the spirit of her father…… oh God, did she just thought about that? Could it be the spirit or corpse of her father? It was exactly like a horror film she watched on Netflix a few weeks ago.
Odumegwu knocked on the door in a funny way that almost created the impression that someone was inside. He then put the key in the lock and turned slowly. The door opened; he looked about the room as if scared that something may pounce upon him, then took a step in. Sure that it was somewhat safe, he looked back and signaled for them to come in.
“I am scared,” said the young lady trembling.
“Do not be my dear.” her husband encouraged (Scared nearly to death himself).
“You do not get it,” she insisted, “This place is creaky.”
He drew her trembling arm, kissed it, lifted her a little, and turned towards the room.
They got into the small room with terror written all over them. The wall had an obscure muddy paint, the room itself had a funny smell still, but they saw no ghost or spirit. The creaky room was empty, making the sound from their footsteps echo audibly. The room was indeed creaky so much that terror showed on their faces. They looked somewhat like scooby-doo and her peers in the land of the ghosts.