The Second Sight

The Second Sight – Episode 39

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That was exactly what was happening now.

I was filled with revulsion, and I wanted to drag Mrs. Shirley Okai off my face, but once my hand clutched her arm something terrible happened. I knew she was aged, and I knew her skin was leathery, despite the care she had taken of it, and all her elaborate make-up.

The skin I touched wasn’t crimpled at all … it was suddenly smooth, soft, silky! The lips on mine were no longer leathery and rough; they were full, luscious, dripping with sweetness.

Suddenly I felt my mind going to a blissful place, my senses being dulled.

It was magical, the sweetness I was feeling. I knew somewhere deep within me that it was all wrong, that it couldn’t be happening.

But it was.

And I was enjoying every single second of it. Suddenly instead of pushing her away I wanted more, and my hands roved her skin, delighting in her silky feel.

She was moaning now – no, purring, like a naughty contented cat – and she was moving round over the top of the bench.

No, I was dragging her, pulling her over the bench and unto my laps…

Oh, Lord, what is happening? This can’t be right!

I opened my eyes, but the face I stared into wasn’t the face of an old hag. This was the face of a fresh beauty, a budding virgin, the most desirable woman I had ever seen, and I wanted – no,

needed – her.

She was everything my heart craved for.


(crooning lustfully)

Take me, Yaw, take me now!

Oh, Lord, Lord, Lord … save me!

One of my arms was supporting her behind the neck, and the other was gripping a full breast, the nipple taut underneath my fingers. She arched herself up, her arms going around my neck, her lips smashing against mine.

I kissed her violently, ravaging her lips, my free hand desperately seeking her curves.



Mother! What’s the meaning of this?

His voice was a whiplash, filled with horror and revulsion, bitter and absolutely angry

It broke through the clouds, dissipating the madness.

My lips came off hers as she tried desperately to hold on, to keep me trapped. I saw her for what she was then – an old hag!

The bile rose up in me as I threw her off me.

She fell to the soft ground with a little cry – no, it wasn’t a cry, it was a hiss.

She lay on the ground and the expression on her face was one of pure malice as she bared her teeth and hissed at me, her fingers like talons now, digging angrily into the grass.

I bounded to my feet and found Andrew Okai and Nicole standing just inches away from the bench.

Andrew looked absolutely maddened, but the look on Nicole’s face was absolutely terrible. Her eyes glared at me, and in their depths I saw how low I had sunk in her estimation.



You stinking b******!

He was moving suddenly, rounding the bench and coming at me, his right fist drawn back.

My mind was still encased in that terrible confusion.

Warning signals were buzzing in my head, but for a moment I was so disoriented that I didn’t know what was going on.

I side-stepped Andrew’s blow effortlessly and slapped him hard across the face. He fell on the bench and rolled unto his mother, who pushed him away violently.



You meddling little fool!

She glared at her son as she tried to get to her feet.

That did it.

Meddling fool … diversion!

Paul Anderson!

I spun away from them, ignoring the hurt look on Nicole’s face as I raced out of the garden. Somewhere in my confused mind I understood what had happened.

Somehow Mrs. Shirley Okai was mixed up in the entire sordid affair. An old hag who could transform herself, somehow, into a desirable little seductress, she had kept me occupied with her, whilst something went on somewhere, something evil that needed me out of the way.



Oh, s***, s***, s***!

I ran hard.

I rudely pushed people out of my path.

I knew that Anderson was in trouble, very great trouble.

I burst into the administration block of the church and found myself at a large reception area. There were a few people here, grouped together and eating rice out of thin disposable packs.

I grabbed an elderly woman by the shoulders quite roughly, causing her to drop her little white plastic fork, her face suddenly frightened.



Pastor Anderson! Where’s he? Where can I find him?

She pointed toward a closed door, one of several leading out of the reception area. Embossed on a golden plate were the words: Offices of The Chairman.

I threw the door open and found myself in a wide hallway. There were a lot of glass and less wood here. Ahead was a glass office from which a group of men with the collars of the clergy were emerging.

I raced toward them. One of them, a junior pastor, was a familiar face. I remembered being introduced to him by Nicole. Seems he was much respected and had a lot of spiritual gifts.

He was being pegged as a future Chairman of the church.


(striving to be calm)

Excuse me, where can I find Pastor Anderson?

He pointed toward the closed glass door on which was another inscription: Chairman Paul Anderson.


He’s in consultation with a poor widow. It is not a good idea to interrupt now, Mr. Boat.

I nodded at him, my face sick, trying to remain calm.


(in a rush)

This is urgent, believe me. Wouldn’t take more than a few seconds.

The stench! Lord, the stench!

I could smell it all around me. It was bad, choking me so that I found it hard to breathe. I wanted to throw up, and I bunched the muscles of my stomach tightly.

The stench of the Legion!

It was here!

The faces of the young pastor and his colleagues reflected their disapproval but I ignored them and moved forward. I slid the door open, entered and closed it gently.

I was in a wide corridor with several closed doors on the right side, and one at the end. Alone now, I raced toward the giant door at the end of the corridor, grabbed the handle and violently swung it inward.

The room beyond was huge and spacious. It was luxuriously furnished, and exuded an atmosphere of warmth and peace.

But there was nothing peaceful about the scene confronting me.

Pastor Anderson was on his knees, hands clamped together in supplication, tears of anguish falling down his face, his terror so complete that he could barely move a muscle.

Advancing slowly and deliberately toward him, was the black-clad figure of the young widow. Clutched in her right hand was a long-bladed ugly knife.


(hissing furiously)


But her voice wasn’t a woman’s voice.

It was a rumbling, resonant voice filled with evil. A voice that belonged to sewers.



Please, oh please! Spare me, please, spare me, I beg of you! I beg of you, please!

Anderson wheezed as his tears fell heavier, all semblance of decorum and honour gone from him, leaving him a pathetic and weak excuse for a man.

The thing was all puffed up, full of its own power and the sight of the whining man of God at its feet. It was enjoying every little ticking second of the moment, and it was so happy that it failed to realize immediately that I was in the room, just behind it.


It exploded in my breast, and before I knew what I was doing I flew across the room.

At the last instant it finally became aware of me. It swivelled round … an ugly face, eyes blazing crimson, and on her forehead was the mark of the beast, dripping pure blood.


But it was scared.

It was terrified!

It hissed, barring serrated teeth at me.


I smashed a fist into its face. The blow drove it all the way across the room.

It took down a desk, three heavy chairs, and a flower pot. It smashed against the wall, and fell down, the knife skittering across the soft rug on the floor.

I was aware that I was glowing brilliantly, my force-field sizzling with divine energy.

I was aware too, of a different kind of power moving through my veins, lending unrestrained malice to my craving muscles to hurt that thing.

I rushed forward, my body trembling with the anger I was feeling. That black-clad figure was moaning. I reached down, grabbed a handful of long black hair, and yanked the face up.

My hand was drawn back, ready to crash down on her –

its – face again, or rip out its eyes if need be.

A clear face marked by a badly split mouth where I had hit her, stared up at me. No mark of the beast, no crimson eyes.

The Legion had fled.

The woman moaned with great pain and starred at me with horror. Her lips opened as she gathered air into her lungs to scream. I clamped a hand across her lips, cutting off her scream.

She was struggling violently now, trying to bite me.



Hush, it’s okay!

I whispered bitterly as I looked at the open window.

A huge black dirty crow was sitting on the sill … and its eyes blazed a terrible crimson.

We stared at each other with mutual hatred, and then it appeared to fall backward off the sill, and a moment later it flapped its way into the skies beyond.

The widow was still struggling, still trying to bite me.



Be still, gaddemn it!

I grated out angrily, bitterly, and she became very still.

I could hear pounding on the door, and I quickly pulled the woman to her feet, dragging her quickly toward the door, making sure I shielded her confused eyes from the moaning form of the pastor on the floor.

She struggled at first, feebly, but my hand tightened on her arm as I pulled her along. I threw the door open and found all the pastors grouped there, just like vermin coming in to feed.

They gazed at me with horrified eyes as I propelled the woman out and pushed her toward the young pastor.

She stopped and I saw her raising her hand to her lips, feeling her mouth.

There was still a lot of blood around her lips… but the torn and shattered wound my fist had opened on her lips was gone!

I had clamped my hand across her mouth, and her wounds had healed!

Her eyes came up, incredulous, shocked, disbelieving!

She tried to speak as she touched her lips with wonder, ignoring the probing questions from the young pastor and his colleagues.

I stared at her, and I loathed her for whatever sins she was indulged in that had enabled her to be possessed and used to almost destroy a good man.

The young pastor quickly brought out a huge white handkerchief and wiped the woman’s lips clean of blood, and he stared at her with uncomprehending eyes.


What happened?


Pastor Anderson wants you to take care of her. That blood is mine. Fell down and something sharp cut me. I covered her mouth because she was screaming when she came out of a trance and saw me bleeding.


But Pastor Anderson … I mean, is he okay? We thought we heard screams. A man’s screams.


(forcing a smile)

Everything is fine. It was the lady screaming, I told you, not a man. A very bad and regrettable incident, I know. But please, would you take care of her? Something important came up, and I’m afraid Pastor Anderson doesn’t want to be disturbed now. Everything’s fine.

They exchanged puzzled glances and it was quite clear that they did not believe me. I thought of going back inside anyway and shutting the door in their faces, but just then Bonner appeared from behind them, slowly and painfully moving forward with the aid of his walking-stick.

They parted for him, and when he was close enough to me he stopped, and his old eyes roved my face.



t happened again.

I looked at him with many emotions raging through me. For a wild moment I almost screamed at him, and I had to fight the sudden urge to lash out at him with my fists.



You better get inside.

I dragged out, my jaws working with the depth of my anger … a fury that was borne out of great fear.

He turned and spoke calmly to the pastors.



Please go and attend to Mrs. Bediako. We’ll take it from here. Thank you very much.

His calm demeanour and gentle voice calmed them, and slowly they turned and hurried away; the young pastor’s arm was across the widow’s shoulders, and I smiled bleakly.



Go on, boy, open the door.

We entered the room again, and I locked the door behind us.



Oh, dearsweet Jesus!

Bonner whispered with great shock as he beheld the spectacle in the room.

Anderson was curled up in the foetal position on the floor, and he was weeping silently, violently, his body trembling.

His arms were tightly drawn up against his face, his head pushed very low into his chest. He looked like a young boy who was afraid to watch a horror movie. His legs jerked spasmodically as he continued to moan deep within his throat.

It was pathetic, but there was nothing I could do for him. No one could do anything for him now. He was totally gone, and I shut my eyes wearily as I sank into an armchair, not wishing to see him, or even hear him.

Somehow every little whimper that came from him was like a nail being driven into me as the feeling of guilt assailed me.

I had failed him, and by that I had taken the last vestige of pride and strength he possessed.

I had reduced him to a fumbling weakling, and I knew that until I found the Legion and dealt with it, Pastor Paul Anderson would never be any use for himself … or anybody else for that matter.



What happened here?

I glared up at him, and when I spoke my voice was not respectable at all.



What the **** didn’t happen? Everything bloody happened, okay? Some serious s*** happened here, and you could’ve seen how well I handled it! Please what the hell is going on here? How do I deal with this kind of s***? Damn it, old man, do you know I nearly killed that widow? Oh, yes, I did! I hit her hard enough to break an elephant’s neck, if indeed elephants have necks! And you know something … I almost hit her a second time, and that would’ve killed her if I hadn’t noticed in time that the damn demons had left her body!

Bonner was still staring down at Pastor Anderson, and his whole body had become very rigid.



Fury is a useless tool to employ now, son, It will warp your judgments and lead to your fall, so you better learn to control your damn fury! You’re new to your gift, so don’t expect to be a master of every damn situation. You’re learning, and all you have to go on is your instincts, so cut out the emotional bulls*** and tell me what exactly happened here.

His words not only startled me, they also instantly doused the burning flames in my chest.



Come here, son, help me get Paul unto this sofa, and then you can tell me what’s plaguing you.

I made him stand aside and dragged the shivering pastor unto the sofa alone.

Pastor Bonner sat on a high-backed designed chair by the window.

The chair was like a miniature throne, and it was very attractive and yet oddly repulsive, as if it didn’t belong to the room, as if it was looking down at the rest of the furniture with a secret sneer.

Bonner listened to me without interrupting, keeping his magnetic eyes fixed unwaveringly on me.

When I finished he was quiet for a very long time, and then he rubbed an unsteady hand down his face.



“Shirley Okai! Something always struck me as being funny about her. It is all very strange. Is that what is bothering you, your inability to read her?


To  be continued…

© – Agyeman

All Rights Reserved.


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5 Replies to “The Second Sight – Episode 39

  1. This update are not everyday so please make it longer or better still let’s know if we can purchase it….the suspense is killing……thanks may God be with you

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