Rachel Ojolowo

The Visitor by Rachel Ojolowo 2018

It licked its scaly lips longingly, its clawed feet perched on the dome of a rooftop. It eyed the large bell that he sat directly opposite. It smirked. It was funny how a demonic being, such as itself, was on a church, a symbol of all that was good. It was quite a contrast. The being scanned the town, its blood-red, snake-like eyes darting from one street to another. A clock bell tower in the distance rang, its sound shrill. It grinned. It was almost time. Dinner time.

So there it continued to watch and wait for its next prey. It waited.

And waited.

And waited




John froze. He stared, his rusty-coloured eyebrows deeply furrowed, at the door which was left slightly ajar. But that wasn’t right. John could swear he had locked the door before he left for work that morning. Trying to make light of the situation, he chuckled lightly. All that work was making him cynical. But deep down inside John’s gut, he knew something wasn’t right. Ignoring his uncertainty, he walked into his house, shutting the door behind him. Because he lived alone, the house was silent. But it wasn’t the kind of silence he was usually met with. This silence was daunting and eerie, like a scene in a suspenseful horror movie.

Gulping nervously, he trekked slowly upstairs, the stairs slightly creaking under his shoes. He made his way to his room. Everything was normal. At least that’s what it looked like. But John could not shake off the chilling feeling, that there was a presence near him. His heart beat rhythmically in his chest. He paused, his heart momentarily stopping with him. Breathing. Was he breathing that loud? No. It sounded like it was coming from someone else. A raspy breath met his skin, sending an icy cold shiver down his spine.

He was not alone.

He said a silent prayer and his eyes slowly travelled upwards. A drop of think, slimy saliva splashed on his cheek. Bloodthirsty, unhuman eyes met his own which were full of utmost fear. The being was horrifying. It looked like it come from the depths of Hell. It had course, rugged charcoal skin and claws as sharp as stainless steel knives. The being snarled and grinned, showcasing its jagged fangs. Its long, dripping black tongue swirled around its mouth, as if a huge, delicious meal was placed before him. In other words, John.