6°47'56.7"N 5°16'33.8"W – Yamoussoukro, Ivory Coast

21.05.2024- 09.00 UTC +00.00

We were walking in the streets of Dioulakro, in the southern part of the capital of the Coast. It was not heavily inhabited, with mostly abandoned houses and wide unbuilt areas. I could see Drissa felt comfortable walking around in this area, but all I thought about was how exposed we would be if the wrong people looked for us.

Drissa casually greeted an old man walking in the street, exchanging a few words.

“You still haven’t picked up any of the Baoulé language?” He teased me.

“I was only taught French. You know that. Is your friend nearby?”

“You also speak that Kru thing from the west. I have heard you once.”

I chose not to respond and looked around. We were walking alone in a long street, and the morning clouds were gathering, bracing for an outpouring of the usual rain.

“Come,” Drissa said and pulled me into one of the alleyways on the right. His phone rang, and he picked it up anxious.

“Oue, we are coming in two. Yes. Just wait.”

He hung up, and he stopped walking.

“We are almost there. But, Teacher, listen to me, nothing happens to him okay?”

“I have already promised that.”

“No. Promise this. If anything ever happens, you protect him first, then me. Okay?” Drissa’s eyes were getting wet as he said that.

I tilted my head a bit. Who was this guy?

“You know I have a debt of protection with you. I cannot…”

“Do you want to meet him or not? First, you protect him, then me.”

I paused. I was not sure Drissa was aware of how heavy the oath I had sworn for his protection was, and how now he was asking me to extend this to a random person. But I had little to no options.

“First him. Where is he?”

He nodded and continued walking through the streets.

I noticed we were now passing through a street we were before – we must have been going in a big circle. I deduced Drissa had not decided to trust me until he made me promise. This picked my interest more than it insulted me – I had taught him to be careful and trust no one, and thus I was proud, but who exactly was this guy that I had not heard of before?

He eventually went into one of the backyards of a house that looked abandoned. No open windows, no light, and weathered unpainted walls. As we stepped closer, the main door opened. A tall man in his twenties opened it, initially appearing threatening with his stern look and athletic body type. He smiled as he saw Drissa and me and revealed his kind features.

“Hi. Thank you,” Drissa said at the entrance. There was a moment of awkwardness between the two before the tall man initiated a handshake and patted Drissa’s back.

“Of course, mate, you can always count on me. And you must be the Teacher?”

I looked at him, a bit lost in my thoughts. He must have been not much older than twenty-one or twenty-two. I could hear his heartbeat; that man was not approaching his thirties but was definitely an adult. His body language showed some familiarity with young Drissa, which triggered my need to seem a bit more protective.

“Teacher?” Drissa asked feeling the uncomfortable silence.

“You can call me Demi.”

“Julien,” he responded and extended his hand.

“I don’t do handshakes. But I am pleased to meet you. I am told you have talents I might require.”

“Let’s discuss this inside,” he said and pointed towards the house.

I nodded and turned to Drissa. I had to convince him, if anything.

“Thank you for this. I give you all my wishes, wherever you go,” I patted his shoulders, “Please keep you and your family safe!”

Drissa was at first perplexed, and then gently pushed my hands off his shoulders.

“Are you serious? I am not leaving the two of you,” he said following Julien inside the house.

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I followed them startled.

“Drissa, I told you; you have to leave the city!” I said using the most commanding voice I could.

“Not until you and Julien are done with whatever this is!” He yelled, going ahead into the house. I cursed and weighed my options as I followed them.

The house was not big; the entrance hallway led into a partly furnished living room with a big carpet, pillows, and a table. There was a small TV in one corner, and candles were the only source of lighting as windows were closed shut, with nailed-in planks. Next to the entrance, there was a door to a small room that probably was meant to be the bathroom, if anyone ever attempted to equip it with a toilet or any plumbing. This was not a decrepit building, as everything felt and seemed sturdy and new – but it was not meant for habitation.

Driss had taken her place and sat on a pillow with his arms leaning back. Julien stepped into the living room and waited.

“Alright,” I said, “Drissa told me you are a good person. I shall treat you with respect then. I have nothing to pay you for this service. This will probably be dangerous, but I will do everything in my power to protect you both. But trust me when I say we are doing this for the good of the people in this godforsaken country.”

Drissa leaned forward. Julien was not smiling anymore.

“If Drissa says I have to help, I don’t expect payment.”

I stepped forward. It was time to tell my story.

“I am a mercenary. I use my Curses to support dangerous missions from Guinea to Ghana. Usually, retrieval or delivery missions, where my employers would rather not use a standard delivery service. This was one of these cases, with payment greater than usual. Five of us, get a parcel from Liberia and bring it to a small town nearby. There, our employer would bring a car convoy and bring us all to a private airport they trusted in Yamoussoukro. The flight was planned for somewhere to the East, but I do not know more about it as our mission would end there, once we handed the parcels.”

“Kouétinfla. It was in the news. They talked about a massacre,” Julien said. Drissa moved on his pillow awkwardly.

“To say the least, things went south. There is a new domain in the area to the southwest from here. Someone called The Haunt.” I paused to wait for a reaction.

“Never heard of them,” Drissa said, “were you involved in the attack?”

“I am the only surviving one on my team. I have reason to believe our employer used this Haunt-guy, and I no longer aim to complete this mission. But I have still the parcel on me. And I reckon if I can open it and figure out what it is exactly that I am delivering, I can understand why everything has gone south.”

“And you need me to open the parcel because it is enchanted closed,” Julien said.

“Exactly. It is enchanted, as you guess. But,” and as I said that I took out the five pouches, “it is five of them. Well two of them most probably have the item we need.”

I pointed out the ones Kouadio was carrying when he was killed by the screaming hex.

“How do you…” Drissa aimed to ask.

“You do not want to know.”

“Okay,” Julien asked, “so you want me to open five pouches?”

“The thing is. I do not know what kind of hexes reside in those. Possibly, once opened, we can be tracked or targeted by all kinds of Curses. So, I want you to only risk it if you can handle it. Otherwise, I am happy to go on the run. Maybe find someone else who can do it.”

I finished my story. I did not feel guilty bringing these kids into this. I was Julien’s age when I had to die the first time. A Curse is meant to be used anyway. Drissa being here felt wrong, however, as there was no way he could help. Julien looked at me, probably thinking along the same train of thought.

He walked towards a room in the back, and he came back holding a rifle. He extended it to Drissa, who stood up awkwardly.

“You take this, and you run point outside. If anyone comes near, ring me on my phone. You do not shoot. You only have this if you are cornered. Ring me and run, you hear me? You find Karidja and you tell her what happened.”

“Julien I am not leaving…”

“Listen. I know. You are a brave kid. But if your teacher is right, and we get into trouble, we will need someone to call for help. You are that someone.” He pushed the rifle onto him.

Drissa looked at me.

“He is right. This is just in case things go wrong,” I said. Drissa reluctantly stepped out.

I was left alone with Julien in this room.

“What is in there?” He asked me, without hiding his aggressiveness.

“I do not…”

“Leave your long words out of this, woman. Speak, what did you bring to Drissa?” Julien’s muscles visibly tensed and broadened as he spoke. His facial expression turned sour, and his jaw tightened.

All pretense of a good and respectful attitude was gone. I tried to interpret his change of attitude: was it that Drissa never communicated the danger beforehand? Or was Julien being overprotective of Drissa, like I was?

I did not fear him. I had a handgun at the back of my belt, and I had the training of disposing men like this. Admittedly, that would clash with the promise I had given to Drissa.

“Charming,” I responded, disregarding his threatening body language, “I suspect some kind of weapon. Something worth killing for. There are many legends in West Africa about Cursed artifacts that can kill, dominate, and bring down civilizations if we were to believe the stories. It could be any of them.”

“If you were to hazard a guess?”

“I lack the knowledge; I was hoping your Curse could reveal this.”

“I harness the knowledge of my ward,” he said and walked around the table, coming closer to me. “I know everything about anyone and anything, that enters my ward. Including how to break any enchantment that is presented to me. This does not mean I necessarily have the means to break it. So, this is a big gamble.”

He was now standing in front of me, looking down at me. I stiffened my arm, ready to respond to violence, if that was to happen.

“Do not worry,” he smiled, “I haven’t set up my ward yet. But once I do, I will not just know things about you. I will know you.”

His words made me uncomfortable, but I was now committed to doing this.

“I am an open book,” I said, and I dropped the five pouches on the table in the middle of the living room.