The Curse of the Red Eye — The Truth Revealed

 

**The Uneasy Gathering**

The room was silent as Alan entered. He could feel the tension in his mother — he saw how her shoulders stiffened and her hands shook. He looked at his grandfather who wasn't even paying attention to him; the old man was just whistling a silent tune and tapping his feet on the ground.

"Hello, grandfather," he greeted him.

A rough noise came out of his grandfather's throat, one he couldn't even interpret, but he took it as a response to his greeting. Then suddenly his grandfather flared, "What do you want? Why am I even here?"

"Father, please calm down, don't be like this."

"What do you mean?" He turned on his daughter. "I have more important things to do than to come here sitting about doing nothing."

---

**The Demand for Truth**

"I want answers," Alan said calmly, looking at his mother and then his grandfather. He could see the pleading look in his mother's eyes, but he ignored it. He had to know. He was tired of the stigmatization and the isolation that had defined his life.

"What damn answers, boy?" his grandfather fumed.

"About my bleeding eyes when it rains," Alan said.

"Clarion, talk to the boy. He should know his place."

"But father, he has a right to know the truth."

"A right?" He looked at her with a furious gaze. "What damn right?"

"I know my curse is sustaining two lives," Alan said, looking at them.

"And where did you come to such a conclusion?" asked his grandfather.

"A witch told me so," he said defensively.

There was a sound like two gravel stones hitting each other, and Alan looked around, alarmed, only to realise it was his grandfather laughing. "Clarion, your boy has been contacting a witch — did you hear that, eh?"

"But he is right, father. Don't make it difficult. He needs to know the truth."

---

**Blood in the Rain**

Silence followed, and just like that, it started raining. They had been so engrossed in their argument that they never noticed the weather change, never noticed the cold wind until the first drop hit the roof like a stone striking an empty can.

Alan froze, knowing he would have a hard time keeping his eyes open. He looked at his mother, who averted her eyes from him, and just like that his eyes started bleeding. He fell to his knees with his hands over his eyes, wiping at them, but to no avail. He brought out his handkerchief and noticed it had already soaked with the blood he had wiped away on the bus.

His grandfather looked at him — slumped and shaking — and all he did was shake his head and sit back down. His mother wanted to go to him, but her father glared at her and muttered, "Don't be a fool. The curse."

She was angry, but she couldn't go to her son because the curse forbade her and her father from letting the blood touch them.

Then they heard his voice as he spoke.

"Grandfather and mother, I am not the cause of whatever you both have done. I wasn't even born. But your curse was placed on my head. What crime have I committed to suffer for what I know nothing about? I have not lived a normal life, and everyone who looks at my eyes sees a demon. I want to live a normal life. I want to be able to love and be loved in return. Please, if there is any shade of humanity in you, tell me the truth."

"Your curse sustains my life and that of your grandfather," Clarion said, looking at him. "If you renounce it, both of us will die."

"But why? What started it?" he asked.

"That is for your grandfather to say," she said.

---

**The Grandfather's Confession**

He looked at his grandfather, who was still humming a tune and tapping his feet. "Please, tell me the truth."

"What truth?" his grandfather asked. "The truth is I enjoy life. I enjoy the good things life has to offer, and I don't want to die."

"Even at my suffering?" Alan asked.

Silence stretched for a few minutes. He watched his grandfather's jaw clench, his hands balled into a tight fist. The old man narrowed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath, and when he exhaled, he shook his head and said, "Yes. Even at your suffering."

Alan was stunned. He looked at his mother, who still averted her eyes. He could see the defiance in his grandfather's gaze and how he curled his lips in mock satisfaction.

"And if I renounce it?" Alan asked.

"Renounce it?" His grandfather laughed. "You're a fool. Why not be happy that you hold the lives of two people? Besides, how would you even know how to renounce it? Don't be stupid and just let us live."

"The witch," he said calmly.

His grandfather froze. For the first time, his heart beat faster, his blood ran hot, and he could feel sweat on his brow despite the cold weather. He finally looked at his grandson — eyes shut, blood trickling at the corners.

"You dare not. If you do that, our deaths will be on your conscience."

"I don't care," Alan said, wiping his eyes.

"You will let your mother die?" his grandfather asked.

"Why not? She let me live with a curse, so I think we'd be even."

His mother stood there, not sure what to do. She knew it was time to let go, and she only wanted her son's forgiveness for keeping this from him.

---

**The Origin of the Curse**

"A long time ago, before this era, everyone used to live a short life," his grandfather began, breaking the silence. "A man lived only to the age of twenty. On his twentieth birthday, he would die. It had been so since the dawn of time."

Alan couldn't tell what had made him start confessing, but he listened. And luckily, the rain had stopped as abruptly as it had started, and slowly he could open his eyes.

"I was young and full of life. I didn't want it to end. I had no idea what made life so short, but in those days there was no day that someone wasn't being buried. So I started seeking a solution. I went to places no one would ever dream of. I went to the land of the dead and begged the king of the dead not to take me — after sacrificing my dearest friend using his life force. That didn't work. So I went to the land of the spirits and begged the rulers there not to take my spirit, and they told me I could only plead to the four winds. If my plea was accepted, someone or something would tell me what to do. But to plead to the four winds, I had to sacrifice my sister using her life's blood. The four winds told me only the ruler of the sky could help me and that they would pass my message."

Both Alan and his mother stared at him with open mouths — this coming from his grandfather, a man Alan had once looked up to as a child, a man he had only now come to know as selfish and heartless.

"Don't look at me like that. You don't know what it was like to see someone drop dead right in front of you. No one knew their age, so the law said no one would ever know when their time came. And so I sacrificed my brother to gain an audience with the sky lord. There, they told me the domain they ruled and the one I lived in were two different places. They said they had no right to change my date, but they would consider it if I could give them a hundred souls."

"No way," Alan said. "How can you even reason like that? This is barbaric and inhuman — this is the height of wickedness."

His grandfather ignored him and continued.

"And so I gave them what they desired on one condition: that it would extend to the whole world, that it would be for all of humanity. But they shook their heads and said they couldn't do that. Instead, it would be like a draw — those who drew the long straw would live longer, and those who drew the short one would still live beyond twenty years, but the length would vary. And so I agreed, and the souls were given. It wasn't easy, but I did it."

"When the land saw what I did, it cursed me to die. The power of the land is beyond that of the sky lord. But I ran to the sky lord, and they told me they would pass the curse to my grandchild. I had none at the time, so I didn't care. I only wanted to live. The condition was that anytime it rained, he would cry blood — and that blood is my death. So you see, I have been dying since the first day you shed a bloody tear."

---

**The Curse Breaks**

"That is not right," Alan said.

"Not right?!" his grandfather roared. "The damn world should thank me for what I did! I gave them lives longer than they ever expected. I sacrificed everything to be here today, and you think you can just end it?"

Alan sat there, studying his grandfather's angry face. He didn't know what to do. He knew it was time to end this cycle, but his conscience wouldn't let him take a life. He sat there, torn, knowing he could never willingly kill anyone.

Then he felt hot tears rolling down his face. When he wiped them, they came away clear.

He couldn't believe it. He wiped again — still clear. He laughed.

His grandfather looked at him, still angry. "What is so funny, boy?"

Alan didn't answer, too busy wiping his eyes to be sure he wasn't dreaming. "My tears are clear," he said. "No blood."

"That is impossible," his grandfather said, staring at his eyes. He felt his blood go cold. Then a hotness on his nose — and when he touched it, his fingers came away bloody. "Impossible," he said, staring at the red stain on his hand. "How?"

"The rules," his daughter said, wiping at her own nose.

"What is going on?" Alan asked, noticing the blood on their faces.

"My father broke the rules. The curse is broken."

"WHAT?! How?!" Graham Bent roared, fearing the worst.

"The rules state that the day he confesses everything from his own mouth, the curse will unravel and backfire on him."

---

**The Price of a Selfish Life**

Alan stood there watching, knowing there was nothing he could do. He watched as his grandfather tried to stand, then fell. He could hear his mother gasping for breath.

"Oh no, no, no," he said, bending over her. "Please, mother, don't leave me."

"I'm sorry, son," she said, gripping his hand with surprising strength. "It was a mistake, and I hope you live a happy life. Forgive me."

He sat down, unsure whether he should have come at all. He only knew one thing for certain: their deaths would live on in his conscience, and he would carry that weight to the end of his days.

---

Author's Note:

*There is no gain in anything that involves taking a life or living on blood sacrifice — all of it is a facade that will eventually backfire and hunt you down. We must make do with the life we are given and enjoy it while we can. And for those who are afraid to express their love, do so while you still can. Live that happy life, and shame the devil.*

More twisted Nigerian dark stories you might enjoy:

• The Curse of the Red Eye — Part 1 – Where it all began. Alan discovers his bleeding eyes are tied to a curse he never asked for.
• Living With The Dead — They Walk On Toes – A young woman unknowingly shares her home with the dead, and her life force is slowly being drained.
• A Tale From The Ghetto – When greed takes over, the consequences are swift and brutal.
• Three Times Her Name – A simple walk home leads a woman into a danger she never saw coming.