A Dark Legacy: The Secret Behind My Uncle's Business
My uncle was a well-known man in our town, running a successful local supermarket that attracted many customers. People admired him for his hard work and the thriving business he built. But behind the success lay a horrifying secret that changed the way I saw him forever.
One day, I discovered the shocking truth: my uncle’s business was built on something far more sinister than hard work. He worked with sangomas (traditional healers) to perform rituals that involved kidnapping homeless people. The victims would be brutally rem0ved from the face of the earth, their he@ds cut off while they screamed. According to my uncle, the screaming served as a mystical call, drawing customers to the shop.
The severed he@ds weren’t just discarded—they were buried at the gate of the shop. This, my uncle claimed, was the source of his business's unexplainable success.
When I confronted him about it, he defended his actions, saying they only targeted homeless people because no one would come looking for them. He even tried to justify it by claiming they were "helping" these individuals, who were already suffering on the streets and addicted to drugs. To him, the murders were merciful and less brutal because of the victims’ conditions.
Years later, my uncle passed away. To my shock, he left the shop to me instead of his own children. I couldn’t understand why at first, but then it became clear. He wanted me to continue his legacy, knowing that I had discovered his secret. By leaving the business to me, he was handing me the burden of keeping the dark rituals alive. At the same time, he ensured his children would benefit from the profits without having blood on their hands.
Now, I am left with a heavy choice. Do I continue running the business and inherit the dark practices that made it successful? Or do I walk away, knowing that doing so might destroy everything my uncle built? This legacy is not just about money or success—it’s about morality, justice, and the weight of carrying someone else’s sins.
For now, the supermarket stands as a reminder of the chilling price some are willing to pay for success. I haven’t made my decision yet, but one thing is certain: my uncle’s dark secrets will haunt me for the rest of my life.
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