The Guardian Angel of Riaruka

 

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The yawning darkness under the canopy of trees crept ever closer, and the long shadows from the surrounding trees stretched out as though in a desperate yearning to touch her. The sound of the crunching murrum under her feet echoed into the chambers of darkness around like summons for whatever entity was lurking. She stopped.

The silence after she had stopped didn’t make things any better, though, because she could now clearly hear the howling between the trees as the wind jostled for space with the leaves and branches of the trees, creating a haunting melody of whispers, rustling, and snapping sounds.

A few years ago, this entire road had been lined with working, functional streetlights, installed by the then outgoing MP, who, despite knowing that he would not be running for reelection, had erected the street lights anyway. It was a rare sight in politics – a politician doing good just because.

Now, though, the entire 2 km stretch from the junction of the main road to Riaruka stood in grave darkness, a sign of the broken nature of politics in this village. As soon as the new MP had been reelected, a man who ran his campaign with countless door-to-door ‘donations’, the street lights had stopped working.

One by one, they went out, as though blown out by some entity that was passing through. Many of the metallic poles had been torn apart for scraps, while the bulbs of those that had remained standing were allowed to burn out and never replaced.

Some rumors even suggested that this was actually a collusion between the current MP and the jobless youths he had hired to cause havoc during the campaigns. The MP had allowed for the streetlights to burn out and be destroyed for scraps so that the creepers of the darkness would have a field day robbing and intimidating residents of Riaruka village, her village.

Many people had reported being violently accosted and robbed here by a gang of about four or five people right around here. Just two or three weeks ago, the latest victim had been a young man who, it was reported, had attempted to fight off the robbers and had been met with a violent death, his body dumped into the marshlands just ahead of the canopy.

Before that, there had also been two men who, believing that their numbers would help them, had also been violently robbed and beaten to near fatality by this group of thugs. Many of these men were known to the villagers, but nobody dared speak up against them because they were all protected by the rogue area MP.

She stopped. Her heart thumped forcefully against her chest, threatening to tear brittle ribs to pieces. Her skin prickled as hairs stood on end. She chafed her forearms, and despite the fact that she was wearing a thick college jacket, she felt the cold bite into her skin and make her blood run cold. Was it truly the cold or the sense of dread that made her blood cold?

She turned and started walking back to where she had come from.

Nope! There is no way I am going through that canopy alone!

The wind rustled the nearby bushes and the menacing trees, which were these dark, ominous silhouettes waving around wildly in the blue-grey night sky.

A twig broke behind her. It was swiftly followed by the sounds of footsteps in the bushes. Rustling leaves. Footsteps crunched the earth underneath. The sound of a loud heartbeat. Whispers through the wind. W…w…were those her footsteps? She stopped. The sound of the footsteps also stopped. It must have been her heightened sense of hearing playing tricks on her. Those were her footsteps. The loud pounding was her heartbeat. She sighed. But then she piqued her head and listened keenly. Was that breathing she heard? The air was too still, as if the wind had also paused to listen with her.

Up ahead, a figure was walking toward her. At first, all she could see was the bubbling of the head. Then came those large, broad shoulders. Soon, it was the full outline of a man walking toward her with purpose. A whimper escaped her throat. Her blood ran cold, and her skin tingled. Her feet trembled, and she started hyperventilating, breathing in deep breaths, gasping for air in dread. She turned back and looked down at the canopy, where the trees danced a wicked and intimidating dance, and the darkness lurked underneath their canopy like a predator preparing to pounce. Should she dare? Was he one of them, sent out as a prod to push whoever was too scared to pass through the canopy to push on? Would he hurt her? Worse still, would he gain her trust, pretend to escort her through the woods, only to lead her to the wolves waiting up ahead?

When she turned back again, the figure had stopped.

He has seen me? What do I do? What do I do!

For a moment, the two stood in silence. He seemed to have been sizing her. She, on the other hand, was frozen in fright, her mind foggy with indecision. The space around the sides of the road seemed to squeeze in on her. The sky appeared to begin collapsing in on her. Or could it be that the figure was growing big and making the wide path look smaller? Was he…was he growing taller? No, he was approaching quite fast, inhumanely fast.

She whimpered again, trying not to scream as she backed away from this figure. They were trying to hem her in. She backed out of the road and into the nearby bushes, where she lay low, put her hands over her mouth, and tried as much as possible to keep herself quiet. But she was unable to keep her heavy breathing low and soft enough. Even her heartbeat sounded like the kudundu-kudundu sounds made by the drums of the African Divine Church.

The figure reached where she was and stopped right next to the bushes where she lay.

This is it! I love you, Mum. I love you, Alicia and Alvin.

Peeking through the bushes from her lying position, she could see his full shadow against the night sky. He was rather tall and ungainly, probably over six feet tall. His hands stood stiffly by his side, and his shirt blew softly to the wind. There was something odd about his stance. He stood as though his shoulders were heavy, burdened by something unseen. Rather than looking intimidating, he cut a sad and pitiful figure.

“I won’t hurt you,” He said. His voice was soft and had this echoey, almost ethereal sound to it, as though he was speaking to her from a different dimension.

That’s how they get you, Priscilla. Appear helpless, then when you let your guard down, boom! They strike. Don’t believe him!

She remained silent, covered her mouth, and lowered her thumping head into her trembling hands, watching him through the blades of grass ahead. He stood there for a second longer. Then a minute passed, and he did not bulge. He stood motionless for all this while, his frail frame swaying gently to the wind.

If you are trying to make yourself look harmless, you are doing a good job at it, because why am I suddenly feeling sorry for you? No, Priscilla, you cannot let the compassionate girl in you trust this man steeped in darkness and mystery.

Behind her, she heard it again. A twig snapped, and this time, the sound of footsteps, faint but perceptible, was hard to ignore. Someone, or something, was quietly approaching her from within the tall grass. The breathing was also clear. She could tell because these breaths sounded slower, more controlled, as though someone was trying to hide the fact that they were there.

She looked back into the road. The man still stood there, appearing lost, as though he didn’t know what to do. He just swayed there to the wind with his burdened shoulders. Behind her, those breathing sounds grew louder. The footsteps hastened. The crackling of twigs was persistent. Whoever was creeping up to her had given up any pretenses of trying to stay hidden and was closing in fast. She screamed and clambered to her feet, shooting from the bushes which generously parted in front of her like the Red Sea parting for the Israelites.

The man who had been standing there was gone. When and where he went, she didn’t know. Behind her, she heard a man scream. Against her better judgment, she turned and looked. Somehow, the lanky man had still been there and was roughing up this other man who was pursuing her. She watched the two shadows, and it appeared as though the lanky man was gouging out the other man’s eyes. She watched in horror as the second man screamed and dropped to the ground.

Silence.

Her heavy breathing was the only sound that stirred in the night. Her pounding heart beat so furiously that it made her whole body pulse along with it. She stared on, shell-shocked.

Down the path, she watched the lanky man just stand there and look at her. Then, he spoke.

“There are five more where you are going,” He said, walking up to her.

Priscilla, run! Run, girl, and don’t look back!

She looked down at the canopy dripping with darkness, then back again at this mystery man. She clutched her handbag tight against her frantic chest. She had dipped her hand into the bag, her right hand gripping the mace tightly. He stopped just a safe distance away.

“Walking alone here at this time of night. Risky, eh?” He said, his voice still sounding echoey, dreamy, like a call from a fever dream.

She didn’t respond and instead began backing away from him slowly, her eyes darting between him and the canopy that was slowly creeping towards her with each step she took.

“Are you with them?” She said.

What? Of course, he will say no!

She tried to make her voice commanding. But as she spoke, she could hear the tremble, the crack in her voice as fright washed through her. It was uncontrollable, the dread she felt; the chill down her spine, and the tingle on her skin.

“No,” The man responded in his echoey voice. “Somehow I find myself walking this road at the same time, each night, hoping to prevent something from happening.”

“So you stalk people?”

“Hapana! Hapana!” The man denied fervently. She had expected he would sound offended, but his voice remained calm and measured. “Shall we?” He said, pointing at her to lead the way.

She pulled out her smartphone, which she had reluctantly refused to use for fear it would mark her a target in this all-consuming darkness, and used the flashlight to light the path ahead. She then shone the light on the man.

“I am recording you,” She said, turning on her Instagram live. “In case anything happens to me, people will know who you are.”

“That’s okay,” The man replied.

He looked sickly, this man. There were dark circles around his tired-looking eyes. His lips were dry and flaky, and his skin pallid and ashy.

That’s not the look of someone trustworthy, Priscilla. Do not trust him! He is high on drugs, stoned out of his mind.

She turned her flashlight forward to light the way. The small circular light of the phone camera sent some of the darkness under the canopy scattering, but it somehow made the edges of the trees where the light didn’t shine that much darker, that much creepier.

“A girl like you shouldn’t be walking at a place like this at this time of the night,” The man said, walking slightly behind her.

“I am a woman.”

“Sorry.”

“Why? Because men like you will take advantage of the situation?”

The man was silent as he walked up beside her. She pulled away slightly, always ensuring she kept a bit of distance between her and this man as she kept him at the periphery of her vision.

“Well, a few bad men will take advantage of the situation, sure,” The man said. “But it’s more to do with the fact that this area hasn’t been safe for anyone, man or woman. I was shocked to see you walking down this road at this time of the night alone.”

“So, you have been stalking me?”

“No. No. I am on my way home,” He said, his voice breaking off at the end almost tearfully. “Each night, I find myself here, sitting on a rock somewhere in the bushes behind us. So now I am making my way home.”

“How do you just find yourself sitting there? Like seriously? That is stalker behavior.”

“Yeah. You definitely shouldn’t trust me,” The man agreed. “I wouldn’t trust a random man who approached me in the darkness and offered to walk me home, either. But somehow, it is something I feel compelled to do.”

There just was something…off with his voice. Despite the fact that it was echoey, it was also flat and monotonous. Those drugs must have sucked all the life out of him.

She turned sharply and once again shone the flashlight on his face. The man did not hide his eyes, nor did they even shutter at the sudden flashing of light in them. Instead, he looked at her with these vacant, unblinking eyes. This sight of him sent a new wave of fear through her body. It was as though she was looking into the eyes of a corpse.

“Saying you feel compelled to do something doesn’t make you sound any less creepy,” She replied, turning back and walking on, this time hastening her steps. He kept up with her easily.

“You see the bushes ahead of us,” The man said suddenly. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her heightened vision had indeed seen the bushes ahead of her stir. “There they hide.”

“But it’s at the edge of the canopy? I was told they hid in these trees.”

“Your guard is up in these trees. Once clear of these trees, once you give that sigh of relief, that’s when they strike.”

Her feet refused to move as fear gripped her tightly and refused to let her go. Her heart beat erratically; something flashed across her eyes. In her ear, her inner voice whispered frantically.

Run, girl. Run!

She gripped her smartphone with both hands, trying to keep her trembling hands from shaking so violently.

“Let’s keep walking,” The man said, urging her forward.

He seemed aware of the fact that he made her uncomfortable, and so, he kept his distance as he urged her forward.

“You are lying to me,” She said, turning a pitiful eye to him and shining the light on him again. She wasn’t angry or castigating. Instead, her voice showed betrayal. “You gained my trust and led me straight into their path.”

For the first time, the man showed horror in his voice, as though her accusing him of being part of that dreadful gang had finally awoken some emotion inside him.

“Oh, no! I would never do that,” He said, looking right ahead. This time, she saw tears glimmering in his eyes. “These men. I think they hurt me, too. I think the reason I am here is to make sure they don’t hurt anybody else.” He turned a sad and tearful look at her. “You have no reason to trust me. But I am not with them.”

She turned her flashlight ahead and sighed. Her feet almost gave way in fright as she rubbed the nape of her neck, whimpering as she began sobbing. She felt trapped. Should she trust this ghostly-looking man who appeared harmless on the surface, or was she to trust her intuition, break into a pelt, spraying her mace all around like a maniac, and pray for the best?

Or, maybe, should she turn back and use the longer route home? Maybe she could drop by James’s house and spend the night there. He was the best option of a bad bunch. Sure, he still creepily tried to force flirtatious conversations between them at work, despite her rejecting him almost six months ago, but at least he wasn’t hiding in bushes in the darkness or walking around in the darkness alone.

“Oh my God,” She said under a heavy sigh, resisting the urge to sit down and curse her luck. Then, after a moment of self-pity, she wiped away the tears.

“You said there were five?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s just the two of us.”

“Mmhmm.”

“What do you mean, mmhmm? We are outnumbered?”

The man took a few steps and was now standing right beside her. He reeked a little, she noticed, smelling of metal and something else, like something rotten.

“I have done this before,” He said. “I don’t remember when or with whom, but all this feels familiar. Walk on. They won’t hurt you.”

His last sentence was said with so much vigor, so much bravado, and so much determination that she seemed to begin to share in his confidence.

“They hurt me. I won’t let them hurt anybody else.” The man said, pointing the way for her.

With some renewed confidence, she took the first steps forward. But then hesitated. Then she turned back.

“No, no, no. We can’t. Five is too many people. Two, maybe three, I could trust that the two of us could talk them on. But five?”

“Don’t worry about the numbers.”

“These are dangerous thugs; they definitely know that they have the numbers and the lack of care in the world.”

“Hey. Listen to me, okay? We can do this,” The man encouraged, his voice suddenly full of determination, but still having that echoey, dreamy sound to it.

She turned and took a few steps forward. Then some more. As they neared the bushes, the leaves and the twigs began rustling and breaking. The bushes rustled faster and louder. Something that looked like a head poked through the bushes just beyond the reach of the light of her camera. She gasped, almost dropping her phone.

“Did you see that?” She asked.

“Yes. Yes, I did. Worry not, though. I am with you,” He said.

The two approached the bushes, and as they got closer, the commotion grew louder. The noises of footsteps grew louder. Her heart pounded harder as this swelling feeling overcame her from inside. Her chest compressed, making breathing difficult as she breathed heavily. She could barely feel her legs, and this almost made her stumble and fall.

Two figures emerged from the bushes to her right. A scream escaped her throat. She fell backwards, spraying her mace wildly. Three more emerged from the other bushes. But as she shone her flashlight on them, they stood frozen, their eyes widened with horror. They were not looking at her, but behind her. Without warning, they scampered in different directions in the bushes, and the night let out a deep sigh as the wind began blowing again, this time not with an ominous howl, but a gentle breeze, cold and delicate on her skin. When she got up to her feet, the man was still standing next to her.

She turned to the man, shining her light on him.

“W…w…what did you do to scare them off like that?” She asked.

“Nothing,” He said. “I never do anything. All I ever do is stand around, and just the sight of me sends them scampering.”

“So this happens regularly?”

“It does, yes.”

“How. Do they just forget that you exist and come back again and again?” She asked.

They were now leaving the embers of darkness behind them and were approaching the marshlands. The hollow, yellow light from the street light ahead was becoming clearer, casting a faint yellow light on the path, but creating long shadows in between the trees where it couldn’t reach.

“I don’t know,” The man said, with a shrug. “Maybe they believe that one of these days I will stop showing up. Or maybe they don’t quite believe what they see?”

“So, are you a police officer? Why does your sight scare them off?”

The man stopped, and she watched as a look of absolute sadness and melancholy washed over his face. His eyes, once again, were overcome with this sadness as he turned a teary look at her.

“I think I will leave you here,” He said. “I can’t walk beyond here anymore.”

She looked around, shining her light around, trying to see if there was any house nearby.

“I thought you said you were going home?” She asked.

As she stood there, the fear came back once again, that feeling of being watched. Now it made sense. It was all a plan to get her to lower her guard and now lunge at her defenseless self. It had all been too good to be true. But before she could curse him out, he spoke once again.

“This is home,” He said, turning slightly to face the marshlands. “I…I…I think this is home.”

“You live in the marshlands?” She asked, shocked.

“Yes. Yes, I think so.” The man said, looking down at the marshes blowing gently to the wind.

“H…how?” She asked, shining her lights into the murky waters lurking just underneath the tall grass on the roadside. “Like, is this some kind of shortcut to get home?”

“Yes. I…I think so.”

She sighed and looked around, still not sure whether or not this was still part of their larger plan.

Just let it go. Sema bye and bolt!

He had done his part, and so she wasn’t going to prod too much into it. He was most likely a homeless man who had found somewhere within the marshlands where he could live undisturbed.

“Well, then wha…what’s your name?” She asked.

The man stared blankly at her. Then he looked around, as though he was lost, and shook his head.

“I…I don’t know,” He said suddenly. “I mean. I do know it. I just can’t remember it.”

A fresh wave of fear pulsed through her as she stood there, her eyes popped as she looked at the man standing there, his shoulders weighed down by an invisible force, looking sad and forlorn. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a crisp five-hundred-shilling note.

“Well then, here you go,” She said, handing it to him.

“What am I supposed to do with it?”

“I don’t know,” She shrugged. “Buy yourself some food or something.”

“But I am not hungry.”

“Well, keep it for whenever you feel hungry.”

“No. No, it’s okay. Don’t mind me. I am okay. Bye-bye, good lady.”

With that, he turned fully away from her for the first time since they met, and that’s when she saw it.

The entire back portion of his head was missing, either blown away by a powerful gun or a very heavy blow to the back of his head, leaving a gaping hole that no human being could survive. Blood, brain matter, and skull fragments were splattered down the back of his blue t-shirt.

She let out a scream as she watched him disappear into the marshlands without as much as a glance back at her screaming self. Priscilla dashed through the night, her voice fervid with alarming fright and madness.

It was a ghost!