The night Ayo never wanted to attend came faster than he expected.
By 6:30 p.m., the whole neighborhood was buzzing with excitement. Madam Sugar had personally invited the boys to a Private Youth Christmas Party at her mansion — an invitation nobody else in the community received.
Except them.
Ayo stood in front of his mirror, adjusting his shirt for the fifth time. He still didn't want to go. Something about yesterday's charity, the disappearing masked figures, and Madam Sugar's trembling hands felt wrong.
Very wrong.
"Ayo, go and enjoy yourself," his mother said from the doorway, smiling. "You see how that woman value you? God has finally remembered us this Christmas."
He wanted to tell her the truth — that nothing about Madam Sugar felt safe — but her eyes were shining with hope. Hope he didn't want to break.
"Okay, Mama," he sighed. "I'm going."
She hugged him tight, whispering, "Bring home any extra food they give you."
---
The boys met at the junction wearing their best outfits — cheap but neat. Emmanuel wore his lucky necklace. Banji sprayed too much perfume. Adeoluwa kept checking his pockets to be sure nothing was missing.
"You sure say this party legit?" Emmanuel asked as they walked toward the mansion.
"Bro, na free food," Banji grinned. "Forget fear."
Ayo stayed quiet.
As they approached Madam Sugar's estate, their steps slowed.
The mansion was glowing — literally. Christmas lights wrapped the building in gold, white, and red. Artificial snow fell from hidden machines. Sweet music floated through the air, and the entire compound smelled like cinnamon and coconut candy.
Everything looked perfect.
Too perfect.
At the entrance, two guards smiled warmly, ushering them in.
But Ayo noticed something — under their sleeves, both men had white bracelets carved with the Sweet-Blood Spiral. The same symbol from the envelope. The same symbol that made his chest tighten.
Inside, the party was already booming. Youths danced, laughed, and took pictures beside a giant candy-cane archway. Drinks flowed. Gifts were everywhere. Madam Sugar had spared no expense.
Madam Sugar herself appeared at the top of the staircase, descending like an angel. Her dress was flowing white with gold embroidery, her pale skin glowing under the lights, her smile soft… but sad. The kind of sad that hid behind perfection.
"Welcome, my sweets!" she announced cheerfully. The crowd cheered.
But her eyes found the four boys almost immediately.
Fear flickered there for barely a second before she masked it with another smile.
"Enjoy yourselves," she said warmly.
Moyin and Kelvin waved at the boys from across the room. Moyin looked troubled. Kelvin looked tense. But they didn't come close — they only nodded, like they were warning them silently.
A silent message.
Be careful.
---
Hours passed. Music got louder. Drinks tasted sweeter. People danced without a care. Nothing strange happened.
Nothing at all.
Until just after midnight.
Ayo noticed people leaving. One after another. Quietly. Smoothly. As though they were following invisible instructions.
Soon, the hall grew emptier. The music softer. The lights dimmer.
By 1:30 a.m., only about ten people were left.
All strangers.
Except the boys.
And the Sugar Babies.
Madam Sugar had vanished.
"Guys," Ayo whispered, "we need to go."
Before they could move, the lights flickered — three times.
Click.
Click.
Click.
The room dropped into a soft red glow.
Every door slammed shut on its own.
A coldness filled the once-sweet air.
Kelvin finally rushed toward them, panic in his eyes.
"Please," he whispered, "you have to leave. Now."
"Why? What's happening?" Banji asked.
Moyin grabbed Ayo's hand.
"My mother didn't plan this," she said. "She tried to stop it."
"Stop what?" Ayo asked.
But before she could answer—
A single gunshot echoed from inside the mansion.
BOOM!
The music stopped.
The colours died.
The sweetness disappeared instantly.
"What was that?!" Emmanuel shouted.
Kelvin swallowed hard. "That is the sound of the night changing."
And as they stared at the dark hallway where the sound came from…
the red lights flicked again.
On.
Off.
On.
And standing there, in the doorway at the end of the hall…
…was a figure dressed in full white.
White agbada.
White gloves.
White mask.
Perfectly still.
Perfectly pale.
Perfectly watching.
Ayo's heart dropped.
The White Mask cult had arrived.
And the sweet night party
had just become a trap.