THE AMULET

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The Case File of the Otedola uzochukwu Murder
Suspect: Peter Inyang
Investigator: Etim Akpan

The audio tape clicks on and a voice comes in…

My testament is irrelevant , I know of the truth that no one will believe me. You and the others will not believe me, and maybe this is a better approach. The saint in me feels that my being behind these walls is a small price to pay… but the devil ever seeks freedom does he not? Very well, Mr. Etim, I shall spill the truth on what really happened that midnight.......

It was late March, year 2002, when the now late Mr. Otedola Uzochukwu acquiesce by letter to finally permit me to view that strange queerness he had secreted away from the rest of the world. He called it “the amulet” in all of our long correspondence to one another. I was in delirium at the thought that I would finally see this object.

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I met Otedola at a little vegetable lawn just next to his door, he immediately made me aware of the fact that he sent his staff away for the evening so that it would be only the two of us; I thought “this is really top secret, for him to want just one ear to hear this. I remember feeling that my friend had a domineering taste for the dramatic. He offered to show me his gallery of art works and curios, an offer I accepted for we had the same tastes it seemed. After about a few hours of dusty tomes, paintings and descriptive analysis we resigned to his study for booze.

I tried eminently not to ask about the amulet or pry him into letting me see it and my patience was ebbing. When I had finally brought up the amulet he was affright, avowing all knowledge of promising to allow me see it. After several moments of discourse about the dangers that it possessed, warnings I now wish I headed, he took out a small chest from beneath his desk. It was an elaborate affair, lacquered ebony and polished iron bands, small etchings covered the boxes entirety. I noticed that the box had no lock on it, yet had a ring for one which was kind of weird to me; the small things that I dismissed surprise me now.

He sat and stared at the box for a while then started, “What do you know of the amulet , my dear boy? What have you heard?” So I abjured the little knowledge that I was able to gleam together in my years of study on the cult. He laughed at me. “They believed there to be a fallen angel of sorrows that would save all mankind from sadness, grief, and despair, I pity their naivety. They also believed there to be another entity, a demon of hatred that would always battle with the angel. This amulet was made as a vessel for these entities, in hope that they could pull them here, into our world.”

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He placed the box upon the table before me and pushed it towards me. Simply, he commanded, “Look and see,” and I was forced to obey. The lid seemed heavy; unnaturally so, as if it weighed several times more than it should, but still, it slid open with wanting. Within the box was a parcel wrapped in linen. I gave Mr Otedola a quick look up for substantiation that this is what I desired, he nodded and smiled, “ . It was his first smile since I arrived, he wasn’t a smiler haha, and I thought I saw tears build in his eyes. I unwrapped the linen meticulously with shivering hands and almost vertiginous heart. What was within was an object of horror and beauty, simple, yet complex in its simplicity. It was an amulet . Smooth, shaped like an evil entity with horns. It was pure gold. It resembled one of those usual amulets, but it was so much more. It chilled me to the bone and evoked a cry for joy.

I was so beguiled by the amulet, letup in its beauty, I almost didn’t hear Mr. Otedola weeping. I… remember asking what was wrong, but my eyes didn’t leave the amulet until his reply was forced and choked with laughter. “It made me do it,… boy,… I didn’t want… to do it, but It made me.” As he spoke a red drop landed upon my hand, drawing my attention to the ceiling. I strongly remember the taste of gall as I heaved into my mouth at the sight. I saw Eight bodies, assumedly the staff, were chained tight against the ceiling, ripped to shreds, their faces locked in expressions of horror.

I heard the sound of squeaking metal which drew my eyes to Otedola’s side. His face… it was twisted… frozen in a snickering grin, mouth wide, teeth black, and he was crying, but his tears were black and he had horns “this isn’t real ‘I thought ‘. He looked like the demon that was shaped in form of the The amulet, and he held a long knife in his hand, drying blood still on it. “Isn’t it a lovely thing…? They will never feel pain , hurt or sadness again…” His voice was… different, as if he were someone else, “as he began to laugh out aloud.So, how about it, peter, you wanna join in the fun? smile for otedola” he asked just before then lurched at me. I ran out of the way, for some reason grabbing the Amulet. As he fell to the floor, I startled him and started smashing him. I can’t remember what happened next, it was obscure and The only thing can barely remember is that I was laughing. It was several hours later when the sheriffs picked me up on the side of the highway, covered in blood, grasping my amulet in my hands…

A strange voice comes in….

Your amulet, Mr. Inyang ?

The first returns…

Why, yes, Mr. Etim , it is my amulet after all. Now tell me, Etim,wanna join in the fun ?
“A squeaking sound and loud laughter fills the remainder of the tape”