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The Death Cap

by Stella Macus 2 years ago in fiction
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A man that knew when death is coming

Designed By: Stella Macus

Everyone is going to die someday, but nobody knows when. But hey! Excuse me, there might just be one man who actually does.

In the Far Eastside of Nigeria was Amadi the catholic priest officiating at a funeral. It was a big one because the man who died was a man of affluence.

All family members, friends, and the cream of the society were in attendance. They all looked flamboyant in their Sunday best that one might wonder if this was actually a funeral or a big party.

Amadi stood up and gave his usual sermon as all priests do at funerals. He was popularly known to be very eloquent with a little touch of charisma.

That’s one of the reasons people liked inviting him to officiate at ceremonies.

He did his best in trying to keep his sermon brief because he started to notice people yawning with bored expressions written on their faces.

When he was about speaking his last words to conclude, Amadi felt a strange chill run down his spine and noticed a change in the atmosphere.

“What’s happening?” he muttered under his breath. “Why do I feel stiff and cold with the sun so hot outside” he wondered.

He gradually lifted his eyes from his sermon pamphlet and noticed an unusually tall and dark figure at the entrance of the hall in black flowing robes and fiery bloodshot eyes.

It almost looked like time stood still. Amadi was transfixed where he was, filled with terror.

He tried to move, but his legs were stuck. He tried to speak, but no sound came from his mouth. At this point, he could only watch.

This tall and terrifying-looking entity just stood motionless at the entrance and then started to scan the entire hall as though he was looking for someone.

After about a minute or two, he started to advance towards the front row holding a black cap with both hands.

He approached a richly dressed senator who had come to grace the occasion and slowly placed the cap on his head.

The moment he did that, everything reverted to normal. Amadi regained his mobility and voice. He started to sweat profusely.

No one present knew what just happened, everything seemed normal.

Amadi quickly said his last words and hurried down the podium as fast as his legs could carry him.

When he got home he pondered at what happened at the funeral. “Did I just see a ghost or can this be death people always talk about?” he asked himself.

Anyway, he brushed the whole incident aside since he still couldn’t make a sense out of it and went about his normal business.

One week later he saw in a daily newspaper that senator Azuka, a member of the National House Of Assembly had passed. “Aha! Okaaay! This now makes a lot of sense!” Amadi exclaimed.

“Death may have selected him that’s why he placed a cap on his head. Hmmm!” he reasoned.

Before he could conclude his analysis, he got a call to come to officiate at the senator’s funeral.

Now the Igbo tribe in eastern Nigeria is known to be very good business in business. They can turn any circumstance to a money-making opportunity.

“Ha ha haaa! Amadi laughed after he finished and dropped the phone call. “This is going to be a big lucrative business for me, wait…hmm! I can charge N500,000 naira ($1,285) per funeral, to tell them who’s next on the line to die”.

Amadi leaped from his seat and started to dance. “I will be the richest priest that ever lived!” he exclaimed.

To carry out his plans Amadi first went to the Catholic Diocese he presided over and resigned his ordained position to the amazement of all who knew him. He didn’t want prying eyes in his affairs.

In his on view officiating at funerals and making a living out of it has now become his weird calling.

At the senator’s funeral, as Amadi stepped into the hall to officiate, he kept praying so hard in his mind that death should show up once again so he could launch a successful funeral career.

He spoke for thirty minutes while starring hard at the entrances of the hall. “Come on! Show yourself!” he said in his mind, but nothing happened.

It was now an hour, just as he was about giving up and stepping off the podium, he felt the chill down his spine with a change in the atmosphere like he previously experienced.

“Aha! That’s it!” He exclaimed with a little excitement in his mind.

He saw death standing once more at the door with flowing black robes, fiery eyes, and holding a cap.

Amadi watched as death scanned the hall, and approached his victim. This time it was a renowned lawyer or barrister in his mid-forties.

Death stood in front of him, stared at him for a minute as though he made sure this was the person he came for.

He placed the cap gently on the barrister’s head and vanished. Amadi quickly grabbed the microphone when he regained himself and said “Hmmm! Sir, please come forward”, beaconing to the barrister.

He looked at the lawyer and said “Put your house in other, your death is imminent”. The whole hall went in a wave of astonishment.

The barrister flared up in a fit of rage and replied: “What kind of arrant nonsense is this!” Amadi was taken aback.

“Do you know who I am? I have a Ph.D. in law from Harvard, what do you have? The barrister queried.

“You hungry illiterate priest paid pennies in form of so-called offering…” he ranted on and on.

People in the congregation tried to calm him down, while Amadi just bowed his head in shame and found the nearest exit.

Three days later, that lawyer was involved in a ghastly motor accident and died on the spot.

Amadi’s phone was flooded with phone calls from the high and mighty in society. From that moment, he became very famous and rich.

A word about his death prediction traveled far and wide, even as far as London and the United States.

He became highly sort after to officiate funerals both at home and abroad.

Amadi never went to funerals conducted by the poor, because they weren’t in the position to pay his fee.

He always officiated in the funerals of the rich and powerful. Whoever he predicted their deaths, died.

One cool evening while enjoying an expensive bottle of “Ace of Spades”, along with a plate of fried chicken at his posh mansion.

Amadi got a phone call from London to officiate at a high profile funeral.

A politician and representative in the House Of Commons had died of some protracted illness.

“This one is huge!” Amadi said to himself when he dropped the phone call and made way for his preparation to travel to London for the funeral.

Amadi arrived in London just in time and checked in at a five-star hotel. He had a lot of cash to burn, so luxury wasn’t an issue for him.

The organizers sent a limo to pick him from his hotel, as soon as he stepped into the hall everyone stood up and applauded as he matched like a president to the stage.

He started his sermon as usual. While he was in the middle of his sermon, death showed up at the door.

This time, death was all dressed up in a black English three-piece suit. He wore a fedora hat, smoked a pipe, and held a walking stick.

Amadi looked in wonder, “Wow death looks kind of cute today. Maybe this is how death appears in English” he tried to reason.

As usual, death walked in and stopped at the middle row of seats. He took off his fedora hat and placed it on the bald head of some rich dude.

Before he left, death paused and directed his gaze at the priest. Amadi’s heart jumped into his mouth in terror.

Death stared at him for a few minutes, waved, and vanished. “Now that was close…” Amadi whispered with a sigh of relief.

When he got back to his hotel from the funeral, he got a phone call from home that his father had just died and that his presence is required.

Amadi quickly took the next flight back to Nigeria. On getting home, he learned his father slept and never woke up. Before now father was healthy, no sickness nothing.

Amadi made preparations for his father’s funeral and also wanted to preside as the officiating priest of the funeral.

His brothers and sisters vehemently opposed him because they were very much afraid of him. They feared he may smell them out as the next candidate for death.

Amadi managed to bribe the village elders and some relatives with money and the strongly agreed that he should officiate the funeral.

When the day of his father’s funeral arrived, his brothers and sisters failed to attend.

They all took to their heels. Amadi was enraged when he learned about it but decided to be calm. The funeral must go on as planned.

Amadi mounted the podium to deliver his sermon-like he always does. Few of his relatives, especially the ones he bribed were in attendance.

He was only about twenty minutes into his exhortation when death showed up at the door. Amadi paused his sermon and watched quietly.

Death just stood at the door and directed his fiery gaze on Amadi. “Oh! no” Amadi said in his mind as his heart started to pound like traditional drums.

Death started to advance towards the podium holding the cap with both hands.

“Ah! No, no, no, no…please not today!” Amadi started to scream in terror. Those who were present wondered who he was talking to.

Death had by now gotten to where the priest stood and gently placed the cap on his head.

Amadi began to urinate in his pants while shaking violently. To everyone’s surprise, he slumped dead on the pulpit.

fiction

About the author

Stella Macus

A professional writer that loves to munch Oreos while writing :)

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