“Umm, Aaron?”

Busily buttoning his shirt by the wardrobe mirror as he prepared for another day of work, Aaron turned to glance at Phyllis, who stood near the dresser, fidgeting with the hem of her robe.

He raised an eyebrow. “What is it, Phyllis?”

She hesitated, then stepped closer. “Please… I just wanted to tell you to… just be careful today.”

His eyebrow remained in arched position. “Careful? Careful about what?”

Phyllis hesitated again, then shook her head. “I dunno, I just… I just have this feeling that… you need to be extra cautious today.”

Aaron stared strangely at her for a moment.

Then his lips curved into a smirk. “Why, are you a prophetess now? Have you been catching dreams and visions in your sleep?”

Phyllis shook her head. Typical of Aaron to brush aside anything she said. “Aaron, I’m serious,” she murmured. “There’s something I feel, and it’s… it’s not pleasant. Please, Aaron. If there’s any way you can come home early, just… please do.”

He gave a short, derisive laugh, adjusting his cufflinks. “Ah, Phyllis. This is why I love you. You’re always so… spiritual. Tuned in to the ways of the Holy Ghost. Good stuff. But please, let’s not confuse your funny little goosebumps for discernment, yeah?”

“Aaron, I’m not trying to—”

“Lock me down with your spooky feelings?” he cut in. “Come on, you know I’m way too intelligent for that. I know better than to be moved by your behaviour. Already, you’ve been moody lately, now all of a sudden, you’re worried for my safety. I wonder what’s gonna come next. Maybe you’ll see a vision of me turning into a frog?”

She looked away, heart sinking as he cackled at his own joke.

He stepped close, kissed her cheek casually, then gave her a crooked grin. “I’ll be fine. So you can put your little prophetess feelings to sleep, okay? Everything’s going to be just fine. Now, don’t go causing any madness while I’m gone, alright? How do I put it in biblical terms… aha, yes. Try not to summon any plagues.”

He slung his bag over his shoulder, laughing lightly as he walked out.

“Aaron, wait–“

“Bye, sweetheart,” he called.

The door closed behind him.

Phyllis stood frozen in place, a hollow ache spreading in her chest.

She didn’t know what scared her more: Aaron’s smug blindness, or Zack’s fury spiraling into something no one could walk back from. With that weird audio message he sent her, she knew he was going to hold onto it to do something crazy.

And she still didn’t have the heart to confess to Aaron that he was in town.

She picked up her phone again, staring at Zack’s name and number.

She sighed heavily. She had tried all night to call.

She had been blocked. And was still blocked, at that moment.

Still shut out.

That dressing down she had given him had really cut him, it was clear to see. And now he didn’t want to talk to her at all.

But she had to get through to him. She had to at least try and get him to stop with whatever he was planning. The guy had already accumulated enough wrath on his head with his constant chastising of God’s anointed vessels; he didn’t need to get himself into even more trouble.

But, even as that thought crossed her mind, she knew it would be a fruitless venture.

Even if she showed up at the hotel to stop him, he’d steamroll her and do it anyway. There was no way he’d pay any attention to her.

She sank into the armchair, hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“God,” she whispered, “please… don’t let this get worse.”

But even as she prayed, she knew the wheels were already in motion.

***

“Gehazi, the servant of Elisha the man of God, said to himself, ‘My master was too easy on Naaman, this Aramean, by not accepting from him what he brought. As surely as the Lord lives, I will run after him and get something from him’… oh boy… I can’t concentrate, chale…”

Amos sighed and sat back. He was in his room, attempting to get some study done. His Bible lay open in front of him, but the words blurred as his mind spun circles around Aaron’s latest request.

He ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. To say he was uncomfortable now would be putting it lightly.

He felt sick at this request.

He’d gone along with the other requests, yes. But those ones were easier to carry out. After all, they were couched in encouraging language. Even if they carried a convicting edge to them, there was no use of fire and brimstone terms to frighten her into obeisance.

This one, however? This was different. This was manipulative. Almost violent, even.

Tricking her into believing she needed to stay in her marriage was bad enough a move. Striking fear into her by threatening punishment for non-compliance was way too much.

And it was unacceptable.

He stood up abruptly, pacing the room, hands behind his back. “Why did I say yes?” he asked himself, over and over. “Eh? Why kraaa did I agree to this thing so quickly?”

Indeed, in hindsight, agreeing to Aaron’s request had been a terribly wrong move. It was the sight of all that money that swayed him; a healthy-looking MoMo account, and the ‘yes’ had spilled from his lips too quickly. And for the past couple of weeks, he had been doing everything possible to keep Aaron, his top donor, happy and satisfied.

But as he stood there now, the question on his mind was: at what cost?

The walls seemed to close in tighter with each step.

A voice echoed faintly in his mind…

… the voice of Prophet Herbert again at another class…

“Don’t let your gift become a leash. The moment you fear men more than you fear God, you’re already compromised. And that is a dangerous path to find yourself on.”

Amos halted, swallowing hard.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered aloud. “Not this time.”

But even as the words left his mouth, fear followed swiftly behind.

Aaron wouldn’t take no lightly. The man barely blew a fuse, but Amos could tell at this stage that any refusal might just cause that, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

And that aside, Amos had far too many strings already tangled around his hands. Aaron could easily expose him to the world as a fake prophet, and he’d lose everything.

He sat down again, staring blankly at the Bible before him while letting out a sigh of despair.

He wanted to tell Aaron he couldn’t go through with it.

He just didn’t know how.

And he had no idea what the repercussions could be.

***

It was evening, and after a drizzle, the streets of Accra were wet. Streetlights reflected off the wet tar as Aaron drove through the streets of East Legon, heading for the guest house after a long and fruitful day at work.

He tapped the steering wheel as he hummed to himself, smiling as he pictured the evening ahead.

A glass of wine, sensual silk sheets, Diana’s naked body before him, and a beautiful release of stress.

Certainly as perfect a night as it could get, before returning to the slow-minded one at home.

His phone suddenly buzzed beside him. He glanced at the caller ID.

It was Phyllis.

Speak of the devil.

He sighed, then hit the Bluetooth button.

“What is it now, Phyllis?” he asked, not bothering to mask his irritation.

Her voice was tentative as she asked, “Please, I… Are you—are you coming home now?”

Aaron scoffed. “Phyllis, you’re really starting to go overboard with this little prophetess act of yours. And it’s not something I need right now.”

“No, please, Aaron, I’m—” she began.

“Don’t try to police me, woman. You’re not the leader here, I am. So stop this. I’ll be home. Eventually. Bye.”

And with that, he ended the call, tossing the phone back onto the passenger seat like a piece of trash he’d grown tired of holding.

He pressed his foot on the accelerator, the stern look on his face still present.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need the prophet boy to really crank up the warning levels on that next prophecy,” he muttered to himself. “She really needs some shaking up, disturbing me and telling me to come home early.”

A couple of minutes later, and he turned onto the narrow, quiet stretch leading to the guest house. His mind had now drifted to the investor he met the previous day. The man had promised to give him a final decision tomorrow, and from all indications, it was going to be a positive one.

He smirked to himself, already imagining the celebratory toast he’d have with Diana later that night.

“I’m thinking we should have the toast before I clap those cheeks,” he mused to himself. “Or should we do it afterwards? Hmmm, maybe before is better. Coz hitting that thing is hard work, chale. Sweet hard work, but yeah–“

BANG!

A loud, gut-wrenching bang tore through his soliloquy and sent him into a state of fright as the car jolted violently.

He gripped the steering wheel with both hands, fighting for control as the vehicle swerved, skidding slightly before he yanked it back in line and brought it to a shaky stop at the edge of the road.

“Dammit!” he hissed, heart racing. “What the bloody hell just happened?!”

He jumped out and walked around to the front.

A huge, rusted nail jutted out from the shredded front tyre.

“Oh, for f**ks’ sake! You’ve got to be kidding me!” he roared into the night, furious. “Who the hell leaves something like that out here?!”

It was after his roar that a sudden realization struck him.

His blood turned cold right away.

Wasn’t this one of the ways armed robbers got unsuspecting drivers to stop their cars so they could rob them?

Before he could answer the question himself, a sound nearby caught his attention.

Rustling from the thick bushes nearby.

Then suddenly… figures appeared.

Fast-moving and masked. About eight of them.

Aaron’s blood froze.

His fear was on point. How the hell had he forgotten this trick?

“Hey—hey! Dey there!”

He knew better than to obey that command as he spun around, bolting from the scene as quickly as possible.

He didn’t make it far, however; these thugs caught up with him in no time flat.

A boot slammed into the back of his knee, dropping him hard.

What followed once he dropped to the floor, were fists.

And kicks.

Brutal and unrelenting.

One foot landed squarely across his jaw. Another into his ribs.

He screamed, but it was swallowed by the night.

“Ajei! Ow! Somebody help me! Please— Aaargh!”

The abuse continued, unabated for a minute, although it felt like an eternity for Aaron.

“Guys! Gimme a moment.”

The figures paused.

Aaron, in the middle of his agony, squinted his eyes. That voice sounded very familiar…

A shadow stepped forward, taller than the rest. His face, a painting of rage and disgust, was instantly made visible by the light.

Aaron’s eyes widened, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He could not believe who he was seeing.

It was Zack! Phyllis’ older brother. A violent, untrustworthy, godless brute he had no respect or regard for.

“You? What the hell—” he coughed.

Zack didn’t blink as he crouched down and stared Aaron in the face. “This is for Phyllis. For the lies. The manipulation. For dragging a con artist into the name of God just to enslave her. She might be too stupid to see through it, but I’m not. And you’re gonna pay. With blood.”

His voice was ice cold and deliberate. Not a shred of humanity in it.

Aaron tried to rise, stammering, “Z-Z-Z-Zack, wait—”

Zack could not be bothered to even try and listen to his brother-in-law. He simply nodded at the men.

“Finish him.”

Aaron’s screams resumed, as the eight men continued to brutally pummel him.

Each kick and punch delivered a new sting of pain to his system. He gasped as he reached out, attempting to plead for mercy.

“P-Pl-Please… stop–“

A heavy boot to the head silenced him.

Well, they got Aaron. Zack got what he wanted. What will become of Aaron now?