The Price Of Blood

 

THE PRICE OF BLOOD" by Douye Soroh. It features a grieving man with a glowing spirit emerging from his chest, standing over a screaming witch with bleeding eyes and a cursed bottle. In the misty, haunted forest background, the ghostly figures of an old man and a woman with a baby look on under a blood-red moon.

Author's Note: I spend three hours writing this story, please share.

The Confession

Sam is in love with Juliet, and everyone knew about it. He doesn't hide his feelings; he would stand in the center of the street and scream, "I'M IN LOVE WITH JULIET!"

Everyone who heard him would just shake their head. We all know love can make someone do crazy things. Let me give an insight into how I do my own crazy stuff for love; I will get back to Sam and Juliet later.

So, I saw this girl, and all my biological hormones started doing flip-flops. She was so beautiful and dark, too; she had that smile that lit the world around her, and to cap it all, she had what a man would want in every woman: innocence. I was known as a "ladies' man" back then because I chased skirts more than hard work. So, when I approached her, I gave her my best line, but it was laced with truth and desire. It was beyond extraordinary when I saw her smile at my line, but at the end, she agreed to give me her love.

Then one day, she invited me to her village. According to her, her mom wanted to see me. It was a good 1000 kilometers to her village from where I was staying and I was broke, so I went to my neighbors and mowed their lawn and I was paid. I used the cash to pay for transport to her village and then I met her mom.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," I said, as I made the best bow of my life—a Frenchman would envy me if he had seen it.

"Good afternoon, young man. Are you the one interested in my daughter?" she asked.

And I proudly flexed my muscle and with a big grin I answered, "Yes, ma'am, your daughter has been the light of my world."

"That is good to know, but I need to know you are strong for my daughter," she said.

I instinctively held my breath and pumped my chest out. And she nodded in approval.

The Farm Work

"That is great," she said, giving my biceps a firm squeeze. She slapped my chest and it made a twam sound. As she turned, I hurriedly started massaging the area she had slammed; I could swear her palm was like iron—strong and callous. She beckoned me to follow her and we started the journey to the farm.

"Ma'am, how will you test me to know if I'm strong enough?" Mind you, I never knew we were going to the farm.

"Don't worry, you will know when we reach," she said, and we continued. Two hours in, we were still on the bushy path and I became sweaty and thirsty. My breathing started coming roughly and anytime I slowed down, the woman would turn with an irritating look that saw me moving again. When I looked at my Christy, who encouraged me, I forgot my discomfort.

We arrived at a large expanse of land full of a lot of bushes and very thick growth; it was so dense I couldn't see a few feet from where I was standing. One thing about me is that I'm afraid of snakes, and that environment was saying, "This is snake headquarters."

She put a hand on my shoulder and said, "My son-in-law, it is time to test how strong you are. Your palms are too soft for a man."

"How?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"You're to clear this bush so I can plant crops. A real man would clear it in an eye blink."

I stood there rooted to the spot. I turned to look at Christy, who smiled at me; it added fire to my energy, but deep down a voice said, "Is it worth it? Can you handle this because of love? Are you sure you can survive this? And don’t forget the snakes in the bush." I pushed the voice away and took the machete given to me by her mother; yes, it was physical manual labor.

"That is the spirit, my son. I knew you were the one for my daughter. Now show me why I should trust you."

I took the machete and took a step forward. Soon, I was cutting the bushes. I cut for an hour while this woman was just standing there marking a sheet of paper—I wondered when she brought it out. As I turned to continue my hard labor, I noticed the big and bloody blisters on my palm. I paused and looked at my hand, and I could feel it shaking.

"Now that is how a real man's hands should look like: hard and callous, not those soft sissy hands you had," said a voice behind me. I turned to see Nancy, Christy’s mother, smiling with a mischievous glint in her eyes. I swallowed hard and moved on to keep cutting. I figured it was all for love and I needed to earn it.

I was pushing hard until I saw the snake. It was black and I could say it was about twenty feet long. It had its fangs poised and ready to strike as it stood on its tail. I jumped back and this woman just shook her head.

"Go on and clear it, too. Aren't you a real man?"

I got angry at that. "How can you say that when you just stand there marking a damn paper?"

The snake hissed. I took another step back and she said, "If you can't kill it, you can never have my daughter." I looked at Christy and she gave that smile that always made me do things, but this time it didn't work—not on a giant snake. I dropped the machete and backed away.

I returned home with regret and a lot of pain in my hands and body. The blisters—oh man, they were bad. I couldn't move that hand for a week. This is just a story to tell you that men can be fools for love, just as Sam is a fool for Juliet.

Back To Sam And Juliet

Soon, Juliet agreed to date Sam and they became an item. The whole neighborhood just shook their heads anytime they passed. You could hardly see one without the other; they were like Siamese twins and they did everything together. Sam skipped work just to be with Juliet. Every chance and opportunity he got, he wanted to spend it with her. It was so strong that everyone started calling them husband and wife, even though they were not married.

The Betrayal

Soon Juliet got pregnant, and one day there was a heated argument that drew the attention of the neighbors. It was so intense everyone thought it would lead to violence. It turned out that Sam was claiming the pregnancy was not his.

"How can you say that when everyone knows you two are always together?" a man asked.

"That is none of your business," Sam replied.

"How can you do this to me, Sam?" Juliet wailed. "How can you abandon me just like that, using this pregnancy you're responsible for as an excuse?"

"Stop accusing me of what I'm not responsible for!" he fumed. "How dare you point a finger at me and accuse me of what I'm not responsible for!" he screamed.

"So, are you saying I cheated on you?" she asked him.

"Do I look like I care if you did cheat on me? It is not me who is pregnant, so just let me be."

"Please, Sam, don't do this to me. I have given you my heart, body, and soul; don't break me."

"Shut it. I'm not interested in your fake plea."

Everyone was shocked at Sam's attitude. Everyone knew he was responsible, but the way he vehemently rejected the pregnancy was so shocking that before anyone could recover, he had walked away. Sam was twenty-five years old when he walked away from Juliet, leaving her with his unborn child.

Juliet was devastated; her life had been torn to pieces. She cried nonstop and people advised her to stop or it would harm the baby. Her spirit was down, her morale had been destroyed, and her life was just like the wind blowing away with no direction. It was a very bad time for her, but at the end, she bore a baby boy, and everyone could see it was a split image of Sam.

She could not take care of the baby with her mental health down and because of how the baby reminded her of Sam. She took the baby to Sam's father and left him there as she walked away, never to be heard from again.

Five Years Later

Sam returned to the town after five years, and he never acknowledged the child whom his dad had named after himself, "Kelvin."

Sam always felt angry anytime his dad reminded him of his child. He claimed it wasn't his child and his dad should stop pestering him about what was not his. The father never troubled him again and, in a few months' time, Sam moved away from his father's estate and rented his own apartment.

Soon, rumors had it that he had married a woman from a town that was so full of supernatural superstition that people became afraid of the events that would unfold if he didn't follow the traditions of the village where he had married his new wife.

It was said that a man who married from that community must perform a sacrifice if he is not yet forty years of age, and that if he doesn't perform it, he would die before he hit forty.

The Twist

Sam laughed when his father told him about his new wife’s tradition. One thing the people didn’t know, and what Sam’s wife failed to tell him, was that if he turned thirty-five years old and still hadn’t done the sacrifice, they would take away his father as a warning. She had not told him because she always told him it was just rumors.

She had locked Sam’s spirit inside a black bottle tied with a red cloth which had his blood and a lock of his hair. With that, she was able to control him. She was the one who made him deny his child with Juliet through supernatural means by performing a sacrifice in the stream of the dead goddess.

Sam had stumbled upon wealth when he left Juliet, but it wasn’t clean wealth. He had visited his new wife’s village because he had heard a man there could make you wealthy if you had the necessary ingredients. That was where he had met Fancy, who had first become his friend; later, after finding out about him, she had tied him to her by imprisoning his soul, hoping to claim his wealth when he died before forty.

So, when Sam turned thirty-five years old, his father was taken from him. He blamed his son Kelvin, whom he still hadn’t acknowledged.

"Must be that kid who did this," he fumed.

"Shut up," his cousin said. "How can you blame a kid of fifteen for killing his own grandfather?"

"That kid is bad luck. I don’t want to see him in this house," Sam said.

"Then he will stay with me," his cousin said.

At thirty-eight years old, Sam had a dream where he was in the center of his wife's village and an old man appeared. It turned out to be his father’s spirit.

"Son, your wife killed me."

"No, father, that kid you raised killed you."

"Go and do the sacrifice or your life will end just like mine," his father warned him.

"What sacrifice?"

"Ask your wife." And with that, he disappeared.

Sam woke up panting. He turned to his wife and was shocked to see her eyes open wide while she slept. He had heard a story that witches don't close their eyes when they sleep, and that all you need to do as they sleep is to put a Bible on their forehead and mutter, "I’m free." He dismissed it at first, but his father’s warning kept nagging him. To his luck, his wife was sleeping and wasn't controlling him because she had to give his spirit in the bottle instructions every day; it was a brand new day and she had not yet done that, so he was free.

He silently slipped out of bed and got his Bible. He placed it on her forehead and muttered, "I’M FREE." He felt silly, but he thought this time to follow his instincts. As he said the words, his wife’s eyes started bleeding and she woke up screaming in a language that is not of the living world. He jumped back and did a double-take as he saw his own spirit screaming too—and the next thing he knew, it slammed into him.

The Memories Return

As his spirit slammed into him, his memories of the past started rushing back. They slammed like a lead ball and he screamed—not from physical pain, but from that raw, agonizing breaking and remaking of the spirit. It hurt so much as Juliet's face flooded into his mind, along with the baby he had rejected. He wept as his spirit was redeemed, but at what cost?

Then, a flash of memory and words spoken by the priest he had met in Fancy’s village popped into his head.

"You are young and you have two hands and two feet, yet you don't want to work? You want easy wealth?" the priest had asked when they met.

"Yes," he had replied.

"There is a price to pay for this wealth."

"I will pay any price," he had said.

"It is a price of blood," the priest had said. "You can still walk away from this path. You can forge your future and mold it with your two hands, not with blood and a price."

"I will pay the price," he had said stubbornly.

"Very well. You will have your wealth, but you will lose two and gain one—and that one you gain would be the one to enjoy it because you will never reach forty."

As he remembered that, it was 12 midnight. That day marked his thirty-ninth birthday, and that was how he died—claimed by the taboo in his wife's village and the sacrifice for wealth.

His son Kelvin was given his property, and Fancy was charged by the community for murder. Sam lost the two people who were dear to him: his father and Juliet. His father's soul was just a bargain for wealth and a warning from Fancy’s village. It was said that Juliet couldn't bear the heartache; it shattered her and made her see life as meaningless without Sam, so she just faded away.

Kelvin came into the wealth of the father who had denied him. He vowed to live a good life, and since his father had already paid the price for the wealth, he lived a quiet and event-free life to the end of his days.

Moral lesson: there is no shortcut to wealth.

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