A few weeks after, Jacob was stunned when he received the letter from the college, informing him that he had been expelled and his severance pay was being sent to him. He had expected a suspension, maybe a warning, but expulsion? It seemed harsh, even for the strange occurrences that had been happening to him.
Determined to get back on his feet, Jacob started looking for a new job. He landed a driving job for a bakery, then known as Pockets Bakery, delivering bread to various locations in and around the city. It was a simple job, but it paid the bills, and Jacob was grateful to have something to do.
But barely two months into the job, disaster struck. Jacob was driving across a bridge when he had an accident. He had no recollection of what happened, only that he saw a lifeboat and the rescuers pulling him into the boat. And yet, his clothes were dry, and he seemed to have been sitting on water. The van was long submerged in water, but Jacob was somehow above it.
His bosses ruled it as an accident, and his forgetfulness of what transpired as shock. But when the same thing happened twice, then thrice, Jacob was sacked. His employers couldn't understand why he kept having these strange accidents, and they didn't want to take the risk of having him on the road.
For the first time, Jacob felt a deep-seated fear. He had always been arrogant, convinced that he was in control of his life. But now, he was starting to realize that something was very wrong. These accidents, the strange occurrences at the college... it was all starting to add up. And Jacob had no idea what was happening to him, or how to stop it.
As he walked away from the bakery, his termination letter in hand, Jacob felt a sense of desperation creeping in. He had no job, no income, and no idea what was happening to him. He was starting to feel like he was losing his grip on reality. And he had no idea how to get it back.
When he got home, the siblings told him not to worry. It was just a minor setback. After supper, they gathered their hymn books and started singing. It was a tradition their late father, Reverend Jahonne Gambiza had instilled in them.
As the siblings sang and prayed, Jacob's body began to contort and twist, his eyes rolling back in his head. His voice grew louder and more urgent, the ancient dialect pouring out of him like a river. The words were unintelligible to his siblings, but they could feel the power and energy behind them.
Despite their best efforts, the siblings' prayers and hymns seemed to have no effect on Jacob's condition. He continued to speak in the ancient dialect, his voice growing more and more unnatural. It was as if he was being possessed by some kind of spirit or entity, one that was beyond their understanding or control.
As the night wore on, the siblings grew more and more desperate. They tried everything they could think of to reach Jacob, to bring him back to himself. But nothing seemed to work. Jacob's body continued to twist and contort, his voice growing louder and more urgent.
It was as if he was trying to convey some kind of message, but in a language that no one could understand. The siblings were at a loss, unsure of what to do or how to help their brother. They could only watch in horror as Jacob's body continued to contort and twist, his voice growing more and more unnatural.
As the night wore on, the siblings' prayers and hymns grew more and more desperate. They begged God to intervene, to heal Jacob and bring him back to himself. But as the hours ticked by, it became clear that their prayers were not being answered. Jacob's condition continued to deteriorate, and the siblings were left to wonder if they would ever see their brother restored to health and sanity again.
When Jacob slowly came to, his siblings gathered around him, relief etched on their faces. They had been praying and singing for what felt like hours, and they believed that their efforts had finally paid off.
"Thank God," one of his sisters, Barbara whispered, tears of joy streaming down her face. "He's going to be okay."
The others nodded in agreement, smiling and hugging each other. They had been so worried about Jacob, and now it seemed like he was going to be fine.
But as they helped Jacob sit up and offered him a glass of water, they couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. Jacob's eyes seemed... different, somehow. And his smile, though weak, seemed to hold a hint of something else, something that didn't quite feel like Jacob.
But they pushed the feeling aside, attributing it to their own exhaustion and worry. After all, Jacob was awake and seemed to be recovering. That was all that mattered. Or so they thought.
Unbeknownst to them, Jacob's awakening was only the beginning of a series of strange and inexplicable events. The tip of the iceberg, as it were. And as they sat there, smiling and relieved, they had no idea what was lurking beneath the surface, waiting to emerge.