THE IRONIC TEMPLE - by Adeagbo Samuel

‎It was inside the ancient sacred temple which was situated on an ancient mountain, on the outskirts of Skywalker town. Built with red bricks, furnished with sparse pieces of furniture and hung on the wall were some temple props with other items placed on different pedestals. At the moment, the silence was as dead as in a cemetery. Strange atmosphere permeated the temple; the door slammed, even with extra full force, shrill sounds were heard all over the surroundings of the temple, but now; the windows and the doors were swinging outwards and inwards, and afterwards slamming into the frameworks in succession as if about to pluck out of the hinges of both the windowframes and the doorframes. ‎Also, lying on the floor were bodies of women - the attires and accessories on them were like that of priestesses - in a disorganized order; Legs and arms sprawled on each other, eyelids of some of the lifeless bodies were shut, but few others were unshut. Trickling on the floor was a trickle of scarlet liquid substances, flowing out gently from different parts of the body of the corpses. The atmosphere was so menacing that non of the nearby birds dare chirp, not even the smallest of the insects dare make a faint sound except the sounds from doors and windows that were swinging in and out violently. At last, the doors and the windows stopped swinging and the atmosphere became silent as dead as in the middle of the night.‎Among the lifeless bodies on the floor, a short light physiqued little lass woke up amongst the corpses on the floor. She was at first gripped by fear, and having moved her eyes from one corpse to the other, another dimension of intense fear ran through her veins, grief cracked her bone inside. She shivered, as if sopped inside rain that was accompanied by breeze, her snowsuit was stained with blood - not just stained but also slightly soaked in the scarlet substance. She looked dumbfounded at the corpses of priestesses that were lying on the floor, it all seemed like a prank and afterlife to her. Hardly had she gravitated from where she was when her cries raised an alarm, but no one was around to hear her cries let alone coming to her aid. Her shrilling cries mixed with the menacing atmosphere in the temple. Having exhausted the Pacific Ocean, She stopped crying for an eyeblink and started questioning herself afterwards,‎"Who am I?" ‎"What am I doing here?" ‎"How did I even get here?" ‎‎She burst into another surge of cry. Walking with a snail gait and pace, she moved her eyes dramatically again on the dead bodies, but her questions were stuck in her throat this time around, stream of heightened fear flowed in her veins and drops of tears amassed on her face and trickled down to soak her snowsuit more than before. She limped over the bodies to the left angle of the temple with horrors, and printed on the clean floor was her bold blood footprints.‎ Then came a great strange shrill and strong menacing sound out of nowhere - it could not have been of the birds, not of the crickets, and neither was it of the tiniest insects - which pierced into her auditory organs.‎ A strange sensation of unthinkable fear descended on her which made her hallucinate that there was a white piece of paper pasted on the right side of the wall. She clogged her ears with the inners of her palm trying to reduce the shrillness of the weird sounds. She mustered strengths with her last breath and tried to move to the wall where the paper was pasted - though with difficulty, she plunged into consciousness.‎The fact that she was dizzy led to a trip against one of the corpses. As a result, her buttocks dropped uncontrollably on the floor and was accompanied with a plop as some blood splashed on to the walls. She cried out, even more than she had ever cried. ‎In no time, there was a dead silence, unlike before. Not even a faint menacing sound was heard afterwards: the atmosphere was free of fear and strange sounds. ‎She was gently gaining her strength, catching her breath and recovering from the dizziness. Her sight was initially blurry, but a blur inscription written with blood on the white paper was now sighted, pasted on the red brick wall of the temple in her reality. She tried to spring to her feet but it was like an attempt in the realm of impossibility. She attempted the second time and it was a success, she tottered to the wall where the pasted paper was, top-top-top were the sounds her feet were producing after her. She eventually got to the wall, and the inscription read "I didn't do it." ‎She could make no sense out of the writing on the wall. She tottered to the door, pushed it open, descended the two stairs and arrived on the landing with wide unroofed veranda. The breeze was gentle, soothing as it stroked the erstwhile fears out of her, but she didn't know who she was, she was just doing things with average knowledge like an entrant in a foreign world and like a new baby who has never been to this world before. As she sat on the edge of the pavement dangling her legs in her innocence, she recoursed to the inscription on the wall in her hallucination and in reality. Once more, she questioned herself.‎"Who am I?" ‎"What am I doing here?" ‎"How did I even get here?"‎‎She was repeating the questions: "Who am I?" and "What am I doing here?" but while reflecting on the two questions, she felt that that particular questions deserved an answer. She was serious with the question this time around. Then after a moment while seeking the answers, a small bird flew past her view then disappeared into thin air. No sooner that the bird flew past her than something rang in her head, it was a sound which brought back a clip of the past, though momentarily, but a faint scene of the past was remembered. She tried to remember what the clip was about but it was not enough to make a sense out of. ‎Several attempts followed successively but all efforts made were to no avail. She blamed herself for not remembering the clip. She poured more bowls of efforts into her attempts to remember the clip, but what followed was surprising and was not what she had least expected.‎She had expected many unyielding attempts and fruitless efforts, but just like a reality reel, the remaining clips flew past her sight consecutively, she recalled her past. She attempted to stand up and go into the temple, but something unpredictable happened, she fell into a reality trance of her past life while attempting to stand up to go into the temple to re-observe the scene of the massacre and the blood written inscription on the wall.‎‎ • • •‎‎ Alongside her thickset mom, putting on a black snowsuit and a black neck warmer, complemented with a black boots. They both walked the tiny footway which proceeded to the temple where the tragic event had occurred. The breeze whistled past their faces as little drops of snow were descending with majesty from the clouds. The weather was quite frosty, but their clothing materials were thick enough to resist the cold punches directed at them by the pugilistic weather.‎"Where are we headed mom?" she asked with the reply's expectation written all over her face. She turned her face up to look at her mother, and in turn, her mother replied "We are going to the temple over there, may I ask your reason for asking, my dear?" ‎"It's nothing mom." ‎"Nothing?" ‎"Yes mom." ‎"Are you sure you are not hiding something from me?" ‎"No mom." ‎"very sure, right?" ‎"certainly mom." ‎"Alright then." ‎‎Withing the moments of their confabulation, they arrived at the temple in no time.‎At their front were lofty stairs which proceeded to the frontage of the temple. They mounted the first step and the rest was like everlasting; it was as if they were never going to arrive at the temple in decade months. It seemed as if going to heaven from earth, but at last, they arrived on the landing and they walked to the veranda. At their front, stood the temple on its limbs, staring with its static and lifeless eyes at their faces. The scenery was scary to the little lass; she was afraid. I bet she would have jumped into her mom had it been it was possible at the moment. She buried her face into her mom's snowsuit. "It's fine girl, let's go inside to pray, after prayer, we leave." her mom said.‎They entered into the old temple. As expected, some priestesses were seated with their legs crossed, facing the altar of the temple and were offering their prayers to the gods.‎Both, in respect of the idols, went on their knees, closed their eyes and muttered their prayers to the gods. But she was chewing nonsense in her mouth, neither did she understand what her mum was saying in a lower tone, nor did she have the knowledge of what was happening around her. She felt lost in her own world, what was happening in the temple was like a masquerade show that only amuses and entertains kids. She sat up, and was looking at every pieces of the furniture and props in the temple: from the altar to the objects on the walls and not excluded, the decor of the temple. She then started humming to herself. ‎‎Out of the blue, all the metal objects on the wall started making some strange moves. First to the right and subsequently to the left successively, but in a moment, the moves became threatening; metal objects collided and clanked, objects on the wall plucked out of where each was hung, the pedestals on which the figurines were gently placed shook vigorously. While the metal objects were dancing to the crank beat of the weird wind; some objects remained dangling to the left and to the right on the wall, some dislodged themselves from where hung, some started flying suddenly in the air while some danced to the rhythm of the weird wind. ‎All the priestesses, confounded, sprang to their feet with the door of their mouth left ajar. The mother joined them innocently, she dragged her child gently to her side. Mountains of dread were already building up in their minds, beads of sweat were already springing out of their pores. ‎Forced prayers in diverse forms were tumbling on each other. With fear that almost stripped them naked and crank movements of the objects in the air; as if suspended with the noose of a knotted rope, moving with a strange and threatening gait, they lowered to their knees and were jerking like a car that was in want of fuel.‎The young lass, in her innocence was not as really concerned as her mother and the priestesses were. All she had on her mind was returning to their house at the heart of the town. Though, the strange movements were strange to her too, but her knowledge of what was happening was as tiny as a thread. ‎By the time the doors jammed as if thrutched by hands supported by a kind of an unimaginable force, despite their hearts pulsation, their bodies died in that instant. The lass urinated on herself and couldn't contain the fear any longer, she burst into surge of cry.‎With the strange atmosphere sustained, the door, with an immeasurable force pulled open into the veranda of the temple; they attempted to make moves towards the door and unexpectedly, the door slammed with great force that made them dropped their buttocks unwittingly and uncontrollably on the floor. Inside the endless pool of fear, they troubled their brain, even, to the last angle of their skull to devise a plan but all efforts availed to nothing. ‎The doors by now, opened gently without even the tiniest force, creaking as each panel of the doors pivoted on the hinges, each panel turning gently till it rested peacefully on the walls outside the temple. They all remained seated and composed on the floor as if commanded to by a paranormal being. They expected the door to slam as wonted, but to their utmost surprise, the door remained peacefully-rested on the outside wall of the temple. The clouds outside were now turning colly, whereas, night was yet to fall. They tried to spring to their feeble feet and approach the door when a heavy black wind rushed towards them from the direction of the door and pushed them with heavy force into the temple; bashed them to the floor inconsiderately and snuffed them out compassionately but mercilessly. The corpses were now lying on the floor like lifeless fishes in the net of a fisherman. The wind cried in a whispering voice in mourning of their death.‎‎The menacingness in the atmosphere dissolved like a mountain of cold ice under a searing hot sun. The dark cloud began to give way gradually to the daylight, the horrors in the atmosphere were nowhere to be found: as if they never existed. The doors and windows now remained open, peaceful breeze flowed in high currents: peacefully than before. The clanking evaporated and the crank rhythms returned to nihility. The temple was as silent as a cemetery. ‎‎She felt an invisible nudge which drove her mind back into reality. Still sitting on the edge of the pavement outside the temple, she burst into another surge of cry, there was even a deluge of tears. All of a sudden, her mind traced back on the footway of remembrance to the memory of her mother: the way they walked the lonely footway, mounted the everlasting stairs, and sat inside the temple after their arrival. She dislodged herself from where she was seated, and sprinted into the temple where the body of her mother was lying helplessly. She shook her mother as if to wake her up from her deep but dead sleep. If there was any length to go to, to revive her mother, she would have gone and, if there was any magical ritual she could have done, she would have done it. But she was hailing a ship that had sailed.‎"Mom, this was not our agreement."‎"You told me we would both return home after the prayer." ‎"Please wake up and deny this reality." ‎‎She slapped her buttocks helplessly on to the floor. She sobbed and sobbed. She wailed, but nothing could be done.‎She tried to drag her mother, hoping to drag her out of the realm of the dead into the realm of the living, but all her efforts were leaking out of the strainer of impossibility. She dragged herself on the floor inside the pool of blood, dejected and hopeless, she gravitated towards the door and with wails and cries, she descended the stairs of the temple which seemed like earth to hell. A temple that was meant to be a place of prayer, but, ironically, it was a stark pit of hell. ‎She shouted "Mom, please come back to me and deny this reality."‎

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