Initiates of Bungoma

Initiates of Bungoma

Rhythmic drumming could be heard in the cold, summer night. "It is becoming more audible, but I can't seem to be able to find the source!" my girlfriend said, lips trembling with fright.

It was only two minutes later that we noticed a group of teenagers, barely out of their childhood, marching ahead. Their bodies seemed to fade, and then became clear again in the moonlight. They wore only shorts, and their bodies were decorated with white chalk and mud, forming intricate patterns on their skin.

That sight was enough to make us move like bullets to safety. Luckily, we found a man with a truck by the roadside. "Can you drive us out of here, anywhere, just out of this damned place?!" I asked.

"Sure kids!"

He seemed to be a very friendly, calm, and generous man. As we swept along the dusty road, he told us about his family and the work he did in the quarry—

"Oh my God!" Linda screamed.

There was a decaying head between her feet! The driver was silently staring at us, and I saw at last that he had goat legs! We tried to save our souls, but the door refused to open. The truck was still moving fast, on a road that we didn't know, toward a place we have never seen.

The driver said, "You will be like us," his voice sounding deeper and more eerie.

I mustered a solid kick, like that from an angry horse, and broke the door's hinges. We held firmly to each other, heaving our bodies out onto the road. We dragged ourselves to our feet and bolted into the trees.

Bruised and confused, we were lost in the middle of a thick forest, with nowhere to hide. Broken cell phones made our rescue hopes futile.

"l will find a place we can hide," I assured Linda. Where?! I don't see any churches nearby; home is so far away.

Deep in my soul, I was certain that we were sitting ducks. Sticks and stones couldn't fight off ghosts. The air was now colder, and mist was beginning to envelope the forest. To make matters worse, the sounds of drumming had started again. We regretted our walk; romantic moments had turned to damned moments.

From a distance, we could see fading teenagers once more, as they sung initiation songs. That's when an old news article flashed in my memory. It was said that twenty years ago, in Bungoma, a group of initiates were heading to be

circumcised at a sacred hill; their bus overturned killing all of them. Three years later, people started reporting strange events, sightings of levitating heads, hearing whispers in the trees, and two aging farmers reported strange fading people. "Welcome to our forest," a deep whisper absorbed into my ears.

As I looked behind us, I saw a man with goat's legs looming nearby. "I have a message for you, to send to the rest of the living people. "

Linda had already fainted. Her sense of reality couldn't hold the weight of the events that were taking place.

"No choice to make. I have to heed what the spirit says, or else we'll be their dinner," I thought to myself. A flash of light in front of me is all I could remember