The Evil My Neighbor Did With My Clothes
Episode 9
Written By Jerry Smith.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. My breath caught in my throat as I stared in shock.
It was a man, dressed in a white robe, holding a Bible close to his chest. His presence radiated peace, yet at the same time, I felt a strange tension in the air.
His eyes met mine, filled with a knowing concern.
“Who… who are you?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
The man took a step forward, his gaze steady. “I am Pastor Emmanuel. The Holy Spirit led me here.”
My heart pounded. “Led you here? How?”
He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room as if sensing something unseen. “The Lord revealed your suffering to me in a vision. There is a great darkness in this place.”
I swallowed hard. He could feel it too.
I hesitated before gesturing toward the couch. “Please, sit down.”
The pastor nodded and took a seat. I sat opposite him, my hands still trembling.
“Tell me everything,” he said gently.
I took a deep breath and started from the beginning. The move into the neighborhood, the strange woman, my terrifying dreams, the cursed clothes, my decaying skin—everything.
As I spoke, his face remained calm, but his grip on the Bible tightened.
When I finished, silence filled the room.
Pastor Emmanuel finally spoke, his voice low and firm. “Her presence is strong here. She does not want to let you go.”
I shivered. “Then what do I do?”
He reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle filled with a golden liquid. “This is anointing oil. You must drink it.”
I hesitated. “Drink it?”
He nodded. “It will cleanse you from within.”
—
I took the bottle with shaking hands. The moment it touched my lips, a sharp chill ran down my spine.
I tipped the bottle and swallowed.
Instantly, my stomach twisted. A cold sensation spread through my body, and I gasped, clutching my chest.
Then, I heard it.
A scream—shrill and filled with rage—echoed in my ears.
The pastor opened his Bible. “It has begun.”
He began reading aloud, his voice unwavering.
“For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world…”
The room trembled.
I clutched my head as the voice of the woman shrieked in my ears. “STOP HIM!” she screamed.
Pastor Emmanuel continued, his voice growing louder.
The air grew heavy. The walls seemed to close in.
Then, something horrifying happened.
The darkened, cracked skin on my body started peeling away.
Piece by piece, it fell, landing on the floor like dead leaves. I watched in horror as the patches of rotting flesh gathered together, swirling like ashes in the wind.
The pastor intensified his prayers. “In the name of Jesus, I command this darkness to leave!”
The fallen pieces of my skin moved, merging together into a single mass.
It twisted and morphed, forming a black, round object. A calabash pot.
I gasped, crawling backward. The pot pulsed with an eerie glow, and as I peered inside—
I saw her.
The woman’s face was inside the pot, her black eyes locked onto mine.
“I’m not done yet,” she hissed.
My heart pounded. “Pastor! She’s still here!”
Pastor Emmanuel didn’t waver. He raised his Bible, his voice commanding, “The blood of Jesus is against you!”
The woman let out an ear-piercing scream, her face distorting in rage. The calabash shook violently.
Then—CRACK!
The pot shattered into pieces.
The house fell into sudden silence.
I gasped for breath, my body trembling. I looked down at my hands.
My skin—though still scarred—was no longer decaying. The pain was gone. The overwhelming darkness had lifted.
Tears welled in my eyes. “It’s… it’s over?”
Pastor Emmanuel exhaled deeply. “For now.”
I turned to him, fear creeping back in. “What do you mean, for now?”
He looked at me solemnly. “Evil does not give up so easily.”
A chill ran down my spine.
But despite his warning, I felt relief for the first time in weeks. The burden had lifted.
“Thank you,” I said sincerely.
Pastor Emmanuel nodded. “Give thanks to God. It is He who delivered you.”
I smiled weakly. “I will.”
The pastor stood, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Stay strong, David. Keep your faith.”
As he left, I sat in silence, reflecting on everything.
I had survived.
The evil woman was gone.
I could finally move on.
But as I stood up, stretching for the first time without pain, I realized something.
I wasn’t able to find my mother ever since and i didn’t know if she’s Alive or Dead.
The End.
