The school bell rang, a shrill sound that signaled the end of the day. Camila, Fatima, and Amarachi gathered their books and made their way out of their class. They were laughing and gossiping about Usman. As they reached the school gates, Camila's driver was already waiting. The girls waved goodbye to Amarachi, whose driver pulled away in a different direction.
"You're not coming to my house?" Camila asked Fatima.
"No, my mom wants me home early to help her with some things," Fatima replied with a shrug. "I'll just come over later in the evening."
"Alright, bye." Camila said as they hugged.
Camila watched Fatima get into her car, boredom already setting in. She slid into the back of her SUV, the plush leather seats a stark contrast to the rough ride of her mood. The driver started the engine and began the familiar route home through the streets of Abuja. The ride was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the air conditioner and the rhythmic beat of the music from the radio.
As they got to a traffic light which led onto a bridge, something caught Camila's eye. Wuse market, one of Abuja's largest and busiest marketplaces. People were all over the place, with taxi drivers calling for passengers, young boys and girls hawking items to passers-by, and cars gathering in the traffic near the entrance of the market. Camila remembered what Amarachi told them. The bookstore hidden deep inside. Then sharp defiance washed over her, she decided to see what Amarachi was talking about and test her mothers stories.
"Adamu, mu shiga Wuse, Ina neman abu." she commanded.
"(Adamu, lets enter Wuse, I'm looking for something.)"
The driver hesitated. "Madam, wannan ba hanyan gida bane."
("Madam, this is not on the way home.")
"Just enter, please," she repeated, her tone firm. "I want to look at something."
The driver, used to Camila's whims, turned the vehicle to the right side and headed for the gate. The market was bustling with activity, cars looking for a space to park, people walking around hustling for their next meal, the atmosphere was tense and hectic. After finding a parking space, Camila stepped out of SUV, clutching her phone. She texted Amarachi for the exact details of the bookstore she spoke of earlier. Amarachi skeptically sent the details to her, and Camila thanked her but kept her intentions vague.
After walking for about 20 minutes, through smelly confines and hawkers selling products in her face, she finally located the shady bookstore. It was a crooked building, its faded paint and wooded door radiated a creepy and sickening feeling. She pushed the heavy wooden door open, the air inside was thick and smelled of old paper, dust, and something else—something that felt ancient and heavy.
An old woman with skin like dried leather sat behind a large wooden counter, her eyes widened at the sight of Camila, but she quickly masked it with indifference. The shelves were filled with forgotten books, each one a testament to the passage of time. Camila's eyes scanned the room until they landed on a book unlike any other. It was a large, leather-bound volume, which seemed to float on a small, dusty table in the center of the room. The cover was intricate, with symbols etched into the leather that seemed to writhe and shift under her gaze. She was drawn to it, an undeniable pull she couldn't explain.
She walked toward the book, her heart beating a little faster. As she reached for it, the old woman's eyes snapped open. "That book is not for you my dear," she said, her voice a low, raspy whisper. "Pls leave it and get another thing. But if you take it, you will regret it."
Camila scoffed. "Am I supposed to be scared?" She was convinced the old woman was just trying to scare her. She picked up the book anyway, the cover cold and dry against her fingers. A symbol on the cover, a large, intricate star, glowed a faint, ominous red.
The old woman let out a long, weary sigh. "Some lessons are best learned the hard way."
Camila ignored her and began to read through the book. The symbols were strange and foreign, but as she flipped through the pages, she found a section with words written in a language she could understand. It was a surprise; she had never seen the letters before, yet she could understand them even better than the Hausa she had spoken all her life. It was an incantation, promising to grant the reader immense power. She remembered her mother's words, her warnings, and her last plea: "I sincerely hope you don't get that proof you're looking for."
A smirk formed on her lips. She was about to get all the proof she needed. She began to recite the words, her voice echoing in the silent room.
"Garu al-Jinn, I call upon you. Let your chains be broken, and your will be my command. I am Camila, the one who does not fear. Come forth and show me your power. I command you to appear." she recited softly.
As the last word left her lips, the room grew cold, so cold that a shiver ran down her spine. The air grew heavy, and a dark, swirling mist began to gather around her. The book fell from her hands as a chilling gust of wind extinguished the lights, plunging the room into darkness. A menacing, silent presence filled the space, and Camila felt a crushing weight descend upon her. She tried to scream, to run, but her body wouldn't obey. Her last thought before her world went dark was of her mother's warnings, and the sinking realization that she had been right all along.