Coming home from university after four long but enjoyable years, a lot of old friends had been sending texts and calls asking to see me. However, I knew they’d have to wait. My dad had already told me before I sat in my flight we’d be going to meet old family friends first, the Rahman family.
I went to school with their son, Musa, but they had moved out of the country years before I even got into high school. Apparently they had come back as tourists, with their extended family members. They were staying in their old house which for some reason they never sold, and I had managed to land right before they would be leaving the city.
Great! Definitely wouldn’t be a little awkward considering I hadn’t spoken to Musa, let alone his family, in perhaps a decade. But little did I know that was going to be the least of my worries…
The weekend came quick and that was when we had agreed to visit their house. Even while getting ready, I felt an oddness tap at my shoulder. After so many years, they visited right when I had arrived? The coincidence was a bit jarring at the least. Pulling into their driveway, I immediately noticed how big the place was, especially because of the poverty which the area was known for. The house was a nice white with a pretty, hanging roof. A massive front door greeted us and after a series of knocks Mr Rahman answered bearing a hearty, white smile.
“Ah! Welcome”
He said, in a voice that had aged significantly from what I had last remembered. Waving us in, I began to remove my shoes, as is customary, and was immediately embraced by a very floral scent. Like a freshly picked bouquet of roses, it was intoxicating, so much so that my dad had to nudge me because I had seemingly frozen with two finger jammed in the back of my shoe.
Entering the living room, Mr Rahman sat us down on some extremely comfy sofas. Across us sat a man I didn’t recognize, he was middle-aged, greying hair and a beard that covered half his torso.
“Zahira! The guests have come.”
Mr Rahman called, and immediately after two women entered the living room from what I assumed to be the kitchen. One of them I had recognized as Mrs Zahira, Musa’s mother, the second woman however was a stranger to me.
“This is my brother, Nur”
Mr Rahman said with a smile, patting the other man on his back,
“And that is his lovely wife, Fatima.”
The woman stood with her palms together and gave us a friendly nod. My dad said something about them being a lovely couple, however I wasn’t paying attention. I couldn’t get my eyes away from this Nur man. He seemed cold, angered perhaps? I couldn’t tell what it was that bothered me about him. I didn’t get to ponder it too long, as Musa and his younger sister Halimah soon came down a flight of stairs, being followed by a young boy, perhaps six or seven.
“Mo!”
Musa said my name, taking me back from how deep his voice had become,
“It’s been forever dude.”
I stood up to give him a short handshake and shot his sister a smile.
“You guys have grown so much.”
I said with a chuckle, genuinely surprised at how different they both looked. The child ran up to Fatima and clung to her salwar, which she reacted to by picking him up.
“This is Abdul, our son.”
Fatima said, holding his hand and waving it at us playfully. This entire time, Nur had sat motionless, with the same look plastered on his face. We all sat together, filling in the years of each other’s lives from since the last time we had met. I found out Nur is actually a doctor and Musa had been helping his dad in a local hardware business. Halimah had been about to finish high school and wanted to become a psychologist, like me. The conversations were nostalgic, and I had actually felt quite emotional by the end of it. I guess I didn’t realize how much I had missed being a child here.
Eventually, Mr Rahman suggested we move to the massive dinning table for dinner, and we all did so delightedly. The food was amazing, chicken kebab that melted in my mouth and steak that seemed like it came from a cow that ate caviar. By the end of the meal, I felt like I wouldn’t be able to move, and I sat there holding in burps.
Now, this is where shit hits the fan… I don’t have much of an explanation as to what happened, but the nightmares I’ve had since have made sure I am able to recall every second of it.
I think I was drugged. After the meal, I don’t remember a thing. I woke up in absolute darkness, my hands numb from having their circulation cut off by being tied together. My head pounded with a tortuous migraine, and my throat was so painfully parched I couldn’t even swallow my own spit. Dazed, I tried focusing on whatever had been used to tie my hands and realized it was a scarf. Using my teeth, I somehow managed to undo the knot and slowly pushed myself onto my feet. A musty smell attacked my nostrils and worsened my headache.
“What the fuck…”
I muttered, trying to remember how I ended up here. That’s when the memory of dinner hit me, and I was left even more confused. A tiny window high up on the wall to the right of me let in a little moonlight. From what I could make out, I was in a basement, littered with empty shelves and furniture. In the far end of the room I noticed a stairway hide itself in dark shadows and I slowly started making my way towards it. Halfway up, I could hear what sounded like multiple people chanting. I picked up a few words of Arabic, but most of it sounded like absolute gibberish. When I reached the top, I felt for the door knob and to my surprise it was open. Pushing it a crack, I immediately recognized it to still be the Rahman’s house, however it was completely dark. That same floral scent I smelt when I walked into the house was even stronger now. Almost overwhelming. I tiptoed out the basement and followed the chanting, it led me to the dining room.
I almost got a heart attack when I saw six dark figures circling the dining table. They stopped chanting the moment I saw them, supposedly sensing my presence, and turned to face away from me. My body stiffened, and my breath got caught in my throat. I then noticed a child, who I knew to be Abdul, laying on the dining table. There was a massive candle somehow attached to his belly button, which gave the room an ominous glow.
“WHY ARE YOU HERE”
The group screamed in perfect synchronicity. They used Arabic, however it sounded different, perhaps a dialect. I immediately sprinted towards the living room and then up the stairs. Thudding footsteps chased close behind me, but stopped at the first step. I ran into one of the rooms, where I saw my dad laying unconscious on the bed. Shaking him violently, it eventually caused him to open his eyes, sharing my same initial confusion. I gave him a brief explanation of what had just happened and urged him to follow me. Before leaving the room, I had opened the curtains to see if jumping out was an option. To my horror, the entire window was boarded shut.
We made our way back to the stairs, where I couldn’t see anyone. I signalled to my father that he should follow me, and we slowly descended the stairs. From the living room I had full view of the front door, and shockingly it sat wide open. I almost squealed from excitement. My dad whispered to me,
“Go.”
The cold floor licked at my feet and bullets of sweat collected on my brow. I inched closer and closer to my freedom, but then we walked past the dining room, where I saw Abdul still laying there. However, this time there was a knife resting by his head. I shot a glance at my dad, and he knew, no matter what, I was not about to leave this child here.
“You should go… I’ll get him and follow you”
I said with a crack in my voice.
“I’m not stupid. Go get him, I’ll watch the coast from here. Once you get the kid, run like you never have before.”
He replied. I let out a muted sigh and nodded. Once again, tiptoeing, I inched closer to Abdul. This time his body was covered by a black cloth and the candle was now next to the knife. Concern hit me when I realized I couldn’t see him breathing. I scanned the dinning room, and upon seeing no one, I pulled the cloth off Abdul.
His body…it was on its stomach. Abdul’s head had been turned a full hundred and eighty degrees. This time, I couldn’t help but let out a very audible gasp. Before I could even comprehend what I was looking at, he opened his eyelids. His sockets were fucking empty, just revealing an empty abyss. Abdul opened his jaw, so wide the ends of his mouth started tearing. Horn like structures grew on his forehead and a wispy growl crawled out his throat.
“You pigs…”
It was Nur, he stood ominously at the end of the table. I knew for a fact he wasn’t there just a second ago.
“Do you know the consequences of waking up al-‘Uzzá…?”
His voice had lowered in pitch, to the point where it was barely comprehensible. My dad let out a scream and beckoned me to run. We both sprinted towards the door and right before we could make it out, it slammed in our faces. On it was carved in Arabic,
“To earn, you shall give.”
I spun around quickly at the sound of footsteps, and soon realized that the living room entrance was now blocked by the same six figures. However, this time they were facing us and I could recognize each one of them as the family members we just had dinner with.
“What is wrong with you guys?”
My dad questioned timidly. Nur stood in the middle, his face was covered in some sort of black soot. In his hands was a shape that was covered by a piece of cloth.
“You fools…you idiots…do you realize what you’re doing?”
He grabbed the cloth with one hand and let it fall to the ground. Revealing what seemed to be a stone cube.
“They thought they killed her. Oh, were they wrong” He let out a bellowing laughter.
“You should be thanking us, we are giving you a chance to serve al-‘Uzzá. We are blessing you with the chance to die for her. And you idiots have the audacity to try and ruin things…?”
Nur seemed genuinely infuriated. As if we had committed the greatest crime ever. The rest of them reached for their waistband, and pulled out massive blades.
“I hope you burn in hell.”
Nur spat, before they all charged at us. I thought quickly and kicked at the door behind us. It opened with a loud crack and I grabbed my dad by the arm and pulled him out the house. We rushed to our car that was still parked in the driveway, and my dad unlocked it at lightning speed. Hopping in, my dad started the car and pulled out so fast I thought he was going to go right through the house opposite us. We ended up making it home in one piece. My foot was pretty messed up from kicking the door so hard, but other than that we were okay.
My dad did call the police but when they made it to the house, unsurprisingly, it was completely empty. We later found out that the house wasn’t even theirs, but rather an Airbnb.
Now, I know, you must be wondering what the fuck was that. I honestly can’t give you a solid answer. However, my dad and I have come up with a pretty good theory. After a bit of digging, we found out that Al-Uzza was one of the three main goddesses in Arabian religion before Islam, and was worshiped by pre-Islamic Arabs. Well…she had a cult, and it seems very likely that this family are in some sort of modern version of it. You see, her worshipers are said to have named their children “‘Abdu l-ʻUzzā”. Which is very close to the Abdul that we met. Furthermore, Al-Uzza was also the most revered idol among the Quraysh. They used to travel to her, presenting gifts, and sacrifices in order to obtain her favor. That means we may have been potential sacrifices. Her worshipers were also said to circulate the Ka‘bah, a now important Islamic monument, chanting satanic verses like the following (roughly translate).
“By al-Lāt and al-ʻUzzā, And al-Manāt, the third idol besides. Verily they are al-gharānīq Whose intercession is to be sought.”
Which sounds an awful lot like what they were saying when I made it out the basement. However, the most terrifying thing is that a stone cube was held at Nakhla (near Mecca) and was considered a sacred as part of her cult. Khalid ibn al Walid is said to have demolished the monument and the al-Uzza temple at Nakhla in 630 AD. Well, if that’s true…what was Nur holding?
The police had no luck trying to find these guys, and any contact we had with them had seemingly disappeared. We asked mutual friends if they had heard from the Rahman’s recently, and they all replied with a resounding no. Now, this research may have left me with more questions than answers. Why were they in an ancient cult…? What did me and my dad have to do with this…? Why did they come back just for us…? Also…what kind of power do they possess.