The Witness of Usehjiki
Two

Present day

“Shhh,” the woman in his lap whispered into his ear as Kuwin quivered beneath her, his hands clamped around her waist, begging for the tingling feeling of ecstasy to never end. It felt like the world around him had tipped over, pouring out in overstimulation of his senses to the point that Kuwin was sure he could hear colors and see the taste of her skin even though his eyes remained shut.

As he pulsed within her, she slowed her movements to accommodate him because Kuwin wasn’t sure how much more he could take if she kept moving. He longed for her for as long as he knew her, watching her glowing, dark skin from the pulpit as she swayed in worship, listening to her velvety voice every time she spoke to him in that whispery manner that was sure to drive any man crazy.

He knew.

Kuwin wasn’t a coward who shied away from accountability. He knew before he’d approached her. He’d been swimming in lust for months, fighting what was plain as day, knowing that one day he would fall. It was his fault and his only. He would bear that with his whole chest.

But none of that was enough to take away from the otherworldly, tremendousness of the entire experience. Even now, as she placed delicate, feathery kisses on his face, bringing Kuwin back to consciousness, he couldn’t even be bothered to muster up some shame. He’d been sworn to celibacy for all his life, but he’d taken one day… one day to see what it was. One day to experience before he died. One day to know a woman in the way he’d always wanted to.

He hadn’t taken it lightly, either. Osa wasn’t a woman he’d met off the street. She wasn’t some crazy seductress; at whose feet he could lay the blame. She was pristine in her mannerisms and perfect in her way, always kept a safe distance, able to command respect without a single word. He’d watched her for months to the point of obsession and even though Kuwin always took every problem to God, Osa was one problem he’d kept to himself.

Kuwin Usop was a god-fearing man with a kind heart and a generous soul. At least that’s what people always said about him. Even though he had a huge family and a mother who’d hated letting him leave home, Kuwin had moved out the moment he got a call from God.

The moment he’d told her, it was as if she knew he’d be gone like his relatives before him. But he couldn’t stay. He had work to do. He roamed Usehjiki, sharing the word of God till he settled in Emami, a state in Usobo.

Success in this endeavor hadn’t been easy, but it had seemed almost immediate. Every time he settled to share, Kuwin gathered a crowd. Every time he spoke, his words were met with understanding and a need to hear more. He rose in fame and with each year, Kuwin devoured the Bible more because he needed to know more. He needed to be closer. And with a congregation growing behind him, Kuwin wanted nothing more than to be able to provide the assistance they needed.

He lived on the fifth floor of one of his apartment buildings and usually, every night, Kuwin loved to stand on his balcony and sing quiet praises.

Kuwin had chosen to do things a little differently that night, as he lay in Osa’s embrace, in a blissed-out haze. He had been dreading that night ever since he was old enough to understand. Even though he’d been serious about his faith for twenty years, there were moments in between. Moments plagued with doubt and fear. Moments that followed him into his prayers and came out in dreams.

At first, he’d told himself that the night before his fortieth birthday would be a battle that he would fight, with God at his side. Whatever generational curse was something Kuwin was going to break in the name of Jesus. And yet, the closer his birthday drew, the more his faith wavered, tampering with his core and making him question everything.

He was a Christian. Surely, he wouldn’t die just because there was a key buried in his chest. Even if everyone who’d ever had the key prior to him had died before they were forty years old, that didn’t mean that the same would happen to him. He had faith. He had God on his side. Nothing could go wrong. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Except for the possibility that something could go wrong.

He’d paced up and down that lane in his mind for weeks until he’d realized that one of two things could happen. He could go to sleep on the eve of his birthday and not wake up the next day. Or he could go to sleep and wake up and move on as if nothing happened.

He’d rationalized it all up until the moment Osa had shown up at his doorstep and the next thing Kuwin knew, he was shedding clothes like a restless fool, dropping his celibate vows at the door and allowing Osa to kiss him and lead him into his bedroom. He was going to either die or not die. What difference would it make if he lost a step for one day and indulged in a craving he’d been having for months?

“How are you feeling?” she asked, still cradling Kuwin in her arms.

He couldn’t speak. All he could do was shake his head minutely as he fought to trap every single moment of their lovemaking in his mind. If these were his final moments, Kuwin wanted to have them forever. He wanted to-

“Uh!” he groaned as sharp pain seared through his chest, burning against his skin as he rolled over, placing Osa on her back.

“What is it?” she asked.

It wasn’t time. He couldn’t be dying yet.

He looked at the bedside clock on the side table and the time read 23:56. He still had time. Unless his clock was late, and he was going to die anyway. Because if the ancestors wanted him dead, then he was going to die. Right? It wasn’t as if there was anything he could do about the pain that was ripping through him as if determined to hurt him.

He groaned and crawled off the bed, holding his shoulder as he felt the key moving. He wondered why. When his uncle died, the key hadn’t moved. This hadn’t happened. So why?

The key shifted and stretched through his skin and popped out, falling into his hand and leaving a key-shaped wound in his chest. Holding the key, Kuwin started in a stupor. What did this mean? Why did this happen?

“I’ll take that,” Osa said, standing over him, dressed in her tights and blouse. Kuwin fell back against the bed in shock because Osa, his sweet, innocent Osa, had a small, black gun in her hand.

“What… hmm?” he asked, still whirling from the sex and the wound and the fact that his key was acting up. He clutched the key to his chest, hating how the carpet chafed against his naked butt.

“The key, Pastor?”

“I don’t understand, what do you want with it?”

“It’s useless to you,” she said.

“It’s been in my family for generations. I can’t give it to you.”

“Trust me, Pastor Kuwin, I’m doing you a favor.”

“What does the key have to do with anything?”

She snatched the key away and turned to leave.

Kuwin tackled her to the ground. She could have anything she wanted. He was willing to empty his accounts for anyone, but he couldn’t let her take that key. It would break his mother’s heart.

So, he fought for it.

Or at least, he tried to.

Because the moment she touched the ground, she headbutted him with the back of her head, elbowed him in the stomach, and rolled them both over till she was lying on top of him. While he was trying to recover, she stood and placed her foot on his neck, pointing the gun at him.

“Please listen carefully,” she said. When he tried to speak, she pressed down on his neck till he struggled. “Your birthday is in a few seconds. Everyone in your family who touched this key died just before they turned forty. I can imagine that you have more important things to worry about than a useless key. Let it go. And thank your God that you’re safe.”

She removed her leg and ran towards the balcony, leaving Kuwin to cough his way into a sitting position. When he looked back at the balcony, she was gone. Just as he stood up to go after her, his alarm rang.

He froze, breathing heavily as everything around him waited as well. By the time a full minute passed, and nothing happened, Kuwin collapsed on the floor again, crying in confusion. He had no idea why. He didn’t know what was going on. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend any of it.

But what Kuwin did know was that he was forty years old, and he was, somehow, still alive.

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