The Blood Pact

It:s about Nduka, that needs his village to be delivered from a flood spirit (Mmiriagwo) that usually ravage his village.

CHAPTER ONE:
THE CELEBRATION
The graduation ceremony was buzzing! Graduates were leaving the hall, and colorful confetti fell everywhere against the university building. Chijioke, wearing his black graduation gown, was beaming. All his hard work studying, late nights, and exams had led to this moment. He had become a lawyer.
He saw his best friend, Friday, waving excitedly from the crowd. Friday, always a bit dramatic, was wearing a flashy shirt and big sunglasses. "Chijioke, my friend!" Friday shouted, giving him a huge hug. "Welcome to real life, lawyer!"
Sandra, Chijioke's girlfriend, came up, looking very proud. "Congratulations, Chijioke," she said softly and kissed him. It felt like a sweet victory.
"To the future, Sandra," Chijioke replied, his eyes bright. "To a life of success and happiness."
Amaka and Emmanuel, their funny classmates, joined them, laughing loudly. "Did you see Professor Okoro's face when I walked across the stage?" Emmanuel chuckled, "He looked so sour!"
Dayo, who was always practical, said, "Okay, enough looking back. We're celebrating tonight! At my place. I'm buying the drinks."
Chigozie, who was usually quiet, smiled gently. "I definitely wouldn't miss it."
As the sun went down, making long shadows on the school grounds, the graduates left. Their happy sounds slowly disappeared into the evening. Chijioke was really excited, a little nervous, and couldn't wait for the night's celebrations to start.
The smell of grilled fish and suya filled the air as Chijioke's friends gathered in Dayo's big living room. Music, a lively mix of Afrobeat and popular songs, played loudly. There were plenty of drinks: cold beers, colorful cocktails, and champagne.
"To Chijioke, the newest member of the Nigerian Bar Association!" Dayo announced, raising his glass. "May justice always win!"
Everyone else raised their glasses, clinked them together, and cheered.
Sandra, her face red with excitement, leaned close to Chijioke. "You know," she said, her voice quiet because of the music, "I always knew you'd succeed."
Chijioke smiled, looking at her for a moment. "I couldn't have done it without you, Sandra. You've supported me the most."
Emmanuel, who loved to entertain, took the microphone and sang a popular song badly, which made everyone laugh. Dayo, who was good at DJing, skillfully mixed the music, keeping the party lively.
Chigozie, watching the fun, felt happy and peaceful. He was with friends, celebrating a big achievement. He realized that life was good.
As the night continued, the music got louder and the laughter became more energetic. They told stories, talked about their university days, and raised toasts to what was coming next. Chijioke, feeling grateful for their friendship, was happy. He had reached his goal, and he was with the people who had helped him do it.

Dayo, still happy from the party, walked his friends to the front door. "See you tomorrow," he said with a big smile.
Just as they were leaving, they heard a deep, loud groan from inside the house.
"Did you hear that?" Amaka asked, looking worried.
Dayo waved his hand as if it was nothing. "That's just Grandpa. He always makes those noises at night."
"But it sounded different tonight," Amaka insisted, sounding concerned. "Louder, like he was in pain."
Chigozie laughed. "You're overreacting, Amaka."
But Amaka was clearly worried. "I think we should check on him."
Dayo sighed, knowing he couldn't change her mind. "Fine, let's go."
They walked quietly down the hall, the floor creaking under their feet. Grandpa's room was at the end, the door slightly open. As they got closer, the groaning got louder, and they could hear mumbled words that sounded like begging.
They pushed the door open and were shocked. Grandpa was tossing and turning in his sleep, his face twisted in fear. He cried out, "Don't do it! Don't do it!" and rolled around violently, as if someone was attacking him.
"Grandpa!" Dayo shouted, rushing to the bed.
Amaka and Chidi followed, looking worried. They gently tried to calm him, putting a hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away, his eyes still closed tightly.
Suddenly, Grandpa sat up, his eyes wide with terror. He let out a sob that shook his whole body. "He didn't know… he didn't know!" he gasped, holding his chest.
He looked at Dayo and his friends, his face full of pain. "I now understand why I had this dream," he whispered, his voice shaking.
Dayo, his friends, and even Amaka, who was worried before, were now listening closely. "What dream, Grandpa?" Dayo asked gently.
Grandpa took a shaky breath, looking at the ceiling. "It was a story from a long time ago," he began, his voice rough. "A nightmare that hasn't ended for one family…"












CHAPTER TWO:
THE FLOOD AND THE WIND
The Time Before
Long ago, when gods lived with people, the world was full of magic. The weather was powerful, and many different creatures lived on Earth. In those days, there was a village called Iheweahu, located among green hills. Everyone there, young and old, lived peacefully and had plenty to eat. They didn't have the problems other villages did.
The Great Flood
But this peace didn't last. One day, a giant flood came. It was a huge rush of water that washed away whole villages, leaving only destruction and sadness. People got sick from the dirty water and many died. Scary creatures also appeared in the messy waters.
Aftermath and Fear
When the flood finally went away, it left a lot of damage. Iheweahu wasn't destroyed as badly as other places, but it was changed forever. For the first time, the villagers saw how powerful and destructive nature could be.
The people became very scared. They called a meeting with their oldest and wisest leaders. For days and nights, they talked, trying to find a way to protect their village from the powerful flood spirit they called Mmiriagwo."

The villagers were desperate and tried to make Mmiriagwo happy by offering their best fruits and praying for help. However, the floods kept getting worse, and more people died every month. Even sacrificing animals, which they thought would work, didn't help. The villagers were at their breaking point, so they sent their best hunters to find the most unusual and monstrous animals to offer, hoping to calm Mmiriagwo's anger. But even these big sacrifices didn't stop the flood spirit's rage.
Nduka, an experienced hunter, was sad to see his people suffer. He walked through the forest, thinking deeply. He wished the wind could somehow push the flood away from their land.
Just then, a gentle breeze blew through the leaves. Suddenly, the air shimmered and formed a human-like figure in front of him. This tall, spiritual figure gave off a feeling of ancient power.
"You want to stop the flood?" the figure asked, its voice a deep hum that Nduka felt in his bones.
Nduka was surprised and nervously replied, "Yes, great spirit. My people are suffering."
"I can help," the figure stated firmly. "I can calm Mmiriagwo's anger and bring peace to your land."
Nduka felt a surge of hope.
The figure paused, looking intensely at Nduka. "It will cost you something in return," the figure said, its voice low and threatening.
"It will cost you your blood essence to seal this agreement, and your village will be helped," the figure announced, its voice echoing.
Hope filled Nduka again, but he still had a small worry. "Will I... will I still be alive?" he asked, his voice shaking.

Agwukuku, the wind spirit, seemed to look closely at him, its gaze very sharp. It said, very accurately and chillingly, "You won't die when you're young, young hunter."
Nduka was surprised the spirit knew so much. He asked more questions. "What about my children? The children I will have?"
"None of them will die when they are young," Agwukuku said, its voice calm and comforting.
Feeling better, Nduka, with shaky hands, used a sharp stone to cut his palm on a nearby tree. Blood flowed out, bright red. Agwukuku moved closer, its shape wavering and changing. Quickly and silently, it dipped its ghostly fingers into the blood and drank it. Then, suddenly, so fast it made Nduka gasp, the spirit dove into the cut and vanished inside his body.
Nduka stared at his hand, confused. The cut, which was deep and bleeding just a moment ago, was already starting to heal. The edges were closing up as if by magic. He touched his smooth, whole skin, feeling both amazed and a little scared.












CHAPTER THREE
THE FATED CURSE
Nduka came back to his village and quickly called a meeting with the elders and the main priest. He told them about meeting a strong spirit named Agwukuku. The good news was that Agwukuku agreed to help protect their village, Iheweahu, from the angry spirit Mmiriagwo.
The next month, when the usual floods were supposed to happen, a strong wind blew the water away. Instead of flooding the village, the water went somewhere else, and Iheweahu was saved.
Everyone in the village was very happy. They celebrated Agwukuku and gave offerings like animals and good crops to thank the spirit. Nduka was seen as a hero, and people thanked him a lot.
But Nduka's happiness didn't last. He got married and had many children, but every single child died within a week of being born. None of them lived to grow up.
Very sad, Nduka went to the chief priest for advice. The old priest examined Nduka and realized something terrible. He found out that when Nduka made the deal with Agwukuku, he accidentally brought a terrible curse on his own family line.
The chief priest said sadly, "Nduka, you made a deal with the gods, and they have claimed your family. Any child born directly from you is meant to die and be given to the gods before they grow up."
The chief priest then looked at Nduka, who was very upset. He continued, "There's only one way to slow down this curse. Right after a child is born, either the father or the mother (someone from your direct family line) must willingly die within seven days. Only then will the curse move to the next child, saving that child from the gods' demand for blood."

SCENE 8:
Nduka, realizing he'd been fooled, became incredibly angry. He rushed deep into the forest where he had met the spirit before. "Show yourself!" he yelled, but only the quiet of the forest answered him. Feeling beaten, he went back to his village, burdened by the terrible curse.
Years went by, filled with sadness. Each child born to Nduka died mysteriously within seven days. Nduka, exhausted by grief and guilt, couldn't take it anymore.
The next year, when his wife had another son, Nduka felt a wave of sadness. He looked at his tiny, weak baby, knowing what was coming. This time, he decided he wouldn't let the curse take another life.
He told the chief priest and the village elders about his decision. They held a sad ceremony, saying goodbye to a life that would be cut short. With tears in his eyes, Nduka offered his own life to save his son's.
As he promised, Nduka died within seven days of his child’s birth. His sacrifice temporarily stopped the curse for his son, who lived, got married, and had children. However, the curse then reappeared, affecting all of Nduka's descendants for generations to come.

A Grandfather's Warning
"I hope no one here has that curse," Baba said, his voice shaky. He looked at Dayo and his friends with a sad and scared expression. "Because even if the curse is delayed, it can show up in surprising ways."
Everyone was quiet for a long time. The only sound was the gentle ticking of the clock in the hall. Dayo, Amaka, Chigozie, Sandra, Emmanuel, and Chijioke sat still, completely caught up in the scary story of Nduka and the old curse.
Suddenly, Amaka gasped, her eyes wide with fear. "But... what if we do have it?" she whispered, pointing a shaky finger at Dayo. "What if the curse... what if it goes from one generation to the next?"
Dayo, who was first entertained by Amaka's dramatic reaction, felt a strange uneasiness himself. He remembered the unsettling feeling he had earlier, the unexplained discomfort that had stayed in the air. Could it be true? Could the old curse, which had been inactive for many generations, be waking up again?
A cold fear spread through him. He looked around the room at his friends and his grandfather, his eyes stopping on the shadows in the corners. The old house, which used to be full of family warmth and laughter, now seemed to whisper about old secrets, forgotten sad events, and a harmful power that wouldn't go away.
As they sat in the quiet, a single, frightening thought repeated in Dayo's mind: it seemed the curse might not be as easy to break as they had hoped.
Is there anything else you'd like me to simplify or explain further?.
The End

Reviews

[soph1a]

Hey! I’ve been reading your stories and just wanted to say—they’re amazing! I actually came up with a few fun art ideas while reading. I’d love to work with you and make something cool together. Totally open to whatever budget works for you!

[Chukwuemeka Chinedu]

It's an African tales by moonlight story. It brings back the days when we gathered around our grandparents, telling us stories under a mango tree.