THE GUARDIAN’S SECRET Part one

Adanna’s home was always filled with the chatter of voices: her mother’s vibrant laughter, her father’s deep baritone lectures, and, above all, the incessant squawking of their family parrot, Nnunu. The bright green bird had been with the family for as long as Adanna could remember. Its uncanny ability to mimic human voices made it the family’s entertainment, but Adanna often found Nnunu annoying. It had a peculiar habit of squawking random phrases like, “Stay close to the light!” or “Shadows are watching.” Adanna had always dismissed these phrases as a sign of an overtrained bird—until one fateful night.

The evening started innocently enough. Adanna sat in the living room, scrolling through her phone while her younger brother, Chibuike, played video games. Their parents were away at a family meeting in the next village, leaving the house eerily quiet save for the occasional chirps of Nnunu.

Suddenly, the power flickered, and the lights went out.

“Ugh, NEPA again!” Adanna groaned, grabbing her phone for light.

“Adanna, I’m scared,” Chibuike whispered, his voice trembling.

“Don’t be a baby,” Adanna said, though she felt uneasy herself. She lit a candle and placed it on the table.

As the dim light cast shadows across the walls, Nnunu, who had been perched silently in his cage, suddenly squawked, “Close the windows! Danger comes in the dark!”

Adanna frowned. “What’s wrong with this bird? Chibuike, shut the windows.”

Chibuike nodded, rushing to the nearest window. But as he reached it, a cold wind blew through the room, extinguishing the candle. The darkness was instant and suffocating.

“Nnunu, stop making noise!” Adanna snapped, as the bird began squawking louder.

But then it happened—a low, guttural growl echoed through the house. It was a sound unlike anything Adanna had ever heard, primal and full of malice.

“What was that?” Chibuike whispered, his voice barely audible.

Before Adanna could respond, Nnunu screamed, “Stay in the light! Protect the family!”

Adanna’s heart raced. “This can’t be real.” She grabbed her phone, turning on its flashlight. The beam of light cut through the darkness, but in its glow, she saw something horrifying.

A shadowy figure stood near the doorway, its eyes glowing red. It was tall and featureless, yet its presence exuded pure evil.

“Adanna!” Chibuike cried, clinging to her arm.

The figure stepped closer, its movements slow but deliberate.

“Back away!” Adanna shouted, though she knew it was futile.

To her astonishment, Nnunu’s voice rang out—not in its usual squawk, but in a deep, commanding tone. “Hold the light steady!”

Adanna froze. “What… what are you?” she whispered, staring at the bird.

“Later!” Nnunu barked. “Keep the light on the shadow!”

Gathering her courage, Adanna directed her flashlight at the creature. The shadow hissed and recoiled, shrinking back toward the door.

“Don’t let it escape!” Nnunu yelled.

“Escape? I don’t even know what’s happening!” Adanna shouted back.

The bird flapped its wings furiously. “Focus, child! It’s a Nwunyelu—a shadow demon! They hunt families like yours. But it cannot survive in the light. Hold it steady!”

Adanna’s hands trembled, but she did as instructed, keeping the beam trained on the creature. It howled in pain, its form disintegrating under the harsh glow.

Finally, with one last ear-piercing screech, the shadow evaporated into nothingness.

Silence fell over the room, broken only by Chibuike’s sobs.

“Adanna… what just happened?” he asked, his small frame shaking.

Adanna turned to Nnunu, who now sat calmly in his cage, his feathers ruffled but his gaze sharp. “You,” she said, pointing at the bird. “You have some serious explaining to do.”

Once Chibuike was tucked safely into bed, Adanna sat in the living room, her arms crossed. Nnunu perched on the edge of the table, preening his feathers.

“So, you can talk. Like, really talk,” she said, her voice laced with suspicion.

Nnunu tilted his head. “I’ve always been able to talk. You humans just never listen.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Adanna snapped. “What are you? And what was that thing?”

The bird sighed—a strange, humanlike sound. “I am Ọzọchukwu, a guardian spirit assigned to your family generations ago. I protect you from supernatural threats.”

“Guardian spirit? You’re a parrot!”

“A form I chose,” Nnunu replied. “It allows me to stay close without drawing attention. Do you think I enjoy being in this cage, squawking nonsense to amuse you?”

Adanna’s jaw dropped. “If you’re so powerful, why didn’t you stop that… shadow thing yourself?”

“I can only guide and warn. The light needed to destroy a Nwunyelu must come from one of you. My power lies in knowledge and protection, not direct combat.”

Adanna leaned back, processing his words. “So, you’ve been protecting us this whole time? Why didn’t my parents tell me?”

“They don’t know. The guardianship skips generations. Your grandmother knew, but she passed before she could explain it to you.”

Adanna felt a pang of sadness. She had been very young when her grandmother died, but she remembered the old woman’s cryptic stories and warnings.

Nnunu’s voice softened. “Adanna, your family is special. You are descendants of a long line of spiritual warriors. The forces that hunt you are not of this world. You must be vigilant.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” Adanna whispered.

“No one ever does,” Nnunu replied. “But the responsibility is yours now.”

The following days were tense. Adanna found herself watching Nnunu constantly, waiting for him to drop more cryptic warnings. She also began noticing strange things—a flicker of movement in the shadows, whispers in the wind.

One evening, as she sat by the window, she asked, “Nnunu, why us? Why does our family attract these… things?”

“Because your ancestors defied a great evil,” the bird explained. “They sealed away a powerful entity, and its minions seek vengeance. You carry their bloodline, so they hunt you.”

Adanna shivered. “How do we stop them?”

“You must learn the ways of your ancestors. Their knowledge is hidden in the family’s sacred artifacts. But be warned—uncovering their secrets will put you in greater danger.”

Adanna felt a surge of determination. “I’m not afraid.”

“You will be,” Nnunu said gravely.

That night, Adanna dreamed of her grandmother. The old woman stood in a vast forest, holding a glowing staff. “Adanna,” she said, her voice echoing. “You are stronger than you know. Trust Nnunu. He will guide you.”

When Adanna woke, she felt a newfound sense of purpose. She wasn’t just a regular girl anymore—she was a guardian of her family’s legacy.

But as she stared at the dark corners of her room, she couldn’t shake Nnunu’s warning: the deeper she delved into her family’s secrets, the more dangerous her world would become.

And somewhere in the shadows, unseen eyes watched her, waiting.

---