Darkness swallowed everything.
Total, suffocating, heavy darkness.
Not even the faint buzz of the corridor bulb remained.
Not a hint of moonlight through the windows.
Not a shape.
Not a shadow.
Nothing.
Amara's breath hitched sharply as the world disappeared around her.
For a second, no one moved.
No one even dared breathe.
She could feel Onyedika's arm lightly brushing her, Chiamaka trembling just behind, their panic merging with hers in the black silence.
Then—
A slow exhale floated from the end of the corridor.
Male.
Familiar.
And terrifyingly calm.
The voice that did NOT belong to Kelechi.
"Running won't help you, Amara."
Her entire body flinched at those words.
Onyedika reacted instantly, stepping in front of her despite the darkness.
"Don't touch her!" he shouted into the void.
The voice ignored him completely.
"Did you really think changing schools… changing towns… would make me forget?"
A soft chuckle. Too soft. Too close.
"You should know me better than that."
Amara's back pressed harder into the wall.
Her eyes burned with fear even though she couldn't see anything.
Her voice barely came out.
"W–Why are you here?"
A pause.
A long pause.
Then the voice answered, every syllable sharp and deliberate:
"You left without saying goodbye."
Her pulse slammed against her ribs.
Chiamaka clutched her sleeve so tightly the fabric creased under her fingers.
Onyedika moved slightly, positioning himself between the voice and the girls.
"Show your face," he demanded.
"If you're so confident, come into the light—"
"There is no light," the voice said softly. "Not tonight."
A shiver climbed Amara's spine.
Because he was right.
Why did the lights go off like this?
Why now?
Was this planned?
Her breathing quickened.
Onyedika felt it.
"Amara, slow breaths. Don't let him control your pace."
But it was hard—so hard—when every inch of darkness felt like it was crawling toward her.
The phone in Onyedika's hand vibrated again.
Hard.
Loud in the silence.
Screen glowing—briefly illuminating his face and a bit of her shoulder.
The video call was still connected.
Kelechi's voice emerged again:
"I told you… tonight would be different."
"Kelechi!" Onyedika shouted. "Who is with you?! Who's here?!"
But Kelechi only chuckled.
"You think I came alone?"
Amara felt her stomach twist painfully.
"Onyedika…" she whispered, gripping his arm. "There are two of them."
He didn't answer.
But his breathing changed—tense, ready, calculating.
Another sound echoed.
A footstep.
Soft.
Coming from the opposite end of the corridor—the end behind them.
Chiamaka gasped.
"T–There's someone else?"
"Yes," the voice near the window said calmly.
"Did you really think I came here without help?"
Onyedika reached back, gently pushing Chiamaka and Amara closer behind him.
"Move backward," he whispered. "Slowly. Don't run. Don't talk. Just move."
They took one step.
Then a second.
Then—
A third footstep echoed in the darkness.
Not theirs.
Someone else… following.
Amara's heartbeat skyrocketed.
Her throat tightened so much she couldn't swallow.
Who were they?
How many?
How did they get in?
Where were they standing?
Kelechi's voice returned through the phone, almost playful:
"Don't worry. No one wants to hurt anyone."
Silence.
A beat.
Then he added, voice sinking into a chilling whisper:
"We just want Amara."
A tear escaped her eye.
Not from weakness, but from a deep, primal fear she hadn't felt in a long time.
Her past wasn't just catching up.
It had arrived.
Onyedika clenched his fists so tightly she heard the faint sound of his knuckles shifting.
"You're not getting anywhere near her," he said through his teeth.
Kelechi laughed.
"You think you can stop us in the dark?"
Another footstep.
Closer this time.
Amara staggered back instinctively.
Her shoulder bumped the wall hard.
She bit down a whimper.
Then—a soft voice behind her. Female. Trembling.
"Onyedika…"
Chiamaka.
She was shaking so violently Amara could feel the tremors through her sleeve.
Onyedika's hand found Amara's wrist.
"Listen to me," he whispered. "When I say run, you run. Don't look back. Don't stop. Understand?"
Her breath caught.
She nodded even though he couldn't see her.
The male voice spoke again, tone sharper now:
"I don't want trouble. I just want her to come with me."
"No!" Chiamaka cried before she could stop herself.
The voice clicked his tongue.
"Now look at that… you're making unnecessary noise."
A loud metallic clang echoed down the hall.
Amara stiffened.
"What was that?"
"Something I dropped," the voice replied. "Nothing dangerous… unless you make me use it."
Onyedika slowly positioned himself, shielding both girls with his entire body.
"Kelechi," he shouted into the phone. "Why her? Why Amara?!"
Because maybe if he kept him talking, the others would hesitate.
Kelechi answered slowly.
"Do you know what makes Amara special?"
Onyedika's grip tightened.
Amara's lungs froze.
"Don't," she whispered. "Don't say it."
But Kelechi wasn't listening.
"She left a school," he continued, tone unsettlingly calm,
"but she didn't leave her promises behind."
Amara shut her eyes, sinking further into panic.
She knew exactly what he meant.
A half-finished confrontation.
A threat made in an empty hallway.
A message she never believed he'd follow through.
Kelechi's voice sharpened:
"She ran from me once. I won't let her do it again."
Onyedika stepped forward a bit, voice low, controlled.
"You're not taking her anywhere. You hear me? Not now. Not ever."
A moment of silence.
Then the male voice in the corridor answered, cold and amused:
"Then you should have kept the lights on."
Suddenly, air shifted beside Amara.
Someone moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
Amara screamed— just as a hand brushed her shoulder in the darkness.
Onyedika lunged.
Something crashed.
A struggle erupted—
shuffling, gasps, a grunt, a thud against the wall.
Then a voice—NOT Onyedika's—hissed close to her ear:
"Found you."
Amara's heart exploded into panic.
She tried to move.
Her leg slipped.
Someone grabbed her wrist.
Not roughly—
but firmly.
Unbreakably.
She choked on a breath.
"Let go of me—!" she cried.
"No," the voice whispered.
Then—
the corridor lights flickered on for half a second.
Just enough time for Amara to see his face.
Not Kelechi.
The other one.
The one from her past.
His eyes locked on hers.
Cold.
Unmoving.
Claiming.
The lights shut off again.
She screamed.
And the last thing she heard was his whisper in the darkness:
"You're going with me tonight."