Chapter 86: Dark Angels
On a university campus miles away, where the last traces of evening had long surrendered to the night, a group of young women gathered beneath the shadows.
The atmosphere around them was unsettling.
The abandoned courtyard they occupied was silent except for the occasional chirping of insects and the distant hum of generators. Cigarette smoke drifted through the air in lazy spirals, wrapping around them like a sinister veil.
They called themselves the Dark Angels.
There was nothing angelic about them.
Bola stood among the circle, her expression cold and unreadable. Beside her were Lolu and the other girls who had been rusticated from Rihannat's university. Their resentment had only deepened with time.
The two women who had mistakenly kidnapped Balkis instead of Rihannat were present as well.
They had failed once.
Failure, however, had not extinguished their hatred.
It had sharpened it.
The girls remained silent until the only one seated among them slowly rose to her feet.
Their leader.
Her eyes swept across the gathering.
"Bola. Lolu. The rest of you," she began, her voice smooth yet chilling. "You've been with us long enough."
A smirk tugged at her lips.
"And you've proven yourselves worthy."
The girls straightened instinctively.
"It's time," she continued. "We do our part."
Her gaze darkened.
"To the girl who got you thrown out of school..."
"Dead!" some voices shouted.
Others laughed bitterly.
"To the billionaire..." she sneered. "The self-righteous hero who played saviour and humiliated our members. The great Sulaimon Whitney."
A chorus of hatred erupted.
"Bring him down!"
"To everyone standing beside Rihannat..."
"Deal with them."
"And to Folakemi's father..." she said, disgust dripping from every syllable. "The man who thought he could dictate our girls' lives as though consequences didn't exist..."
Her smile widened.
"We'll remind him who we are."
The excitement that followed was almost feverish.
The leader lifted her hand.
Instant silence.
"We've been watching," she said. "Observing. Learning routines. Studying weaknesses."
She turned her attention toward a girl standing near the back.
"Foxy."
The young woman stepped forward immediately.
"Yes, Leader."
"You'll oversee this."
Foxy lowered her head.
"There will be no mistakes."
The leader nodded approvingly.
"No flaws. No hesitation. No backing out."
Her eyes lingered on each face.
"Are we understood?"
"Yes," they answered in unison.
For a moment, the night seemed to hold its breath.
Then someone spoke.
"Leader the girl, Rihannat?"
The leader laughed softly.
The sound sent chills through the gathering.
"Rihannat..." she repeated thoughtfully.
The name alone twisted several expressions into scowls.
The girl everyone praised.
The girl everyone defended.
The girl who never seemed to break.
Bola clenched her jaw.
"I don't buy that innocent act," she muttered. "Nobody is that pure."
Lolu scoffed.
"Exactly. She walks around with those lowered eyes and soft voice like she's better than everyone else."
"Always modest."
"Always respectful."
"Always composed."
"They worship her for it."
Their complaints spilled out one after another.
But beneath every accusation hid an uglier truth.
Envy.
Rihannat possessed qualities they mocked because they could neither understand nor imitate them.
The discipline they lacked.
The dignity they had traded away.
The compassion they ridiculed.
The strength to endure humiliation without becoming cruel.
Even stripped of privilege, she had earned loyalty.
People trusted her.
Defended her.
Loved her.
And that, more than anything, was unforgivable in their eyes.
The leader tilted her head.
"You hate her because she reflects everything you've refused to become." She said plainly like just talking about the weather, doesn't care an ounce about it.
But the statement drew silence.
Her smile widened.
"But that's fine."
Hatred was easier than accountability.
It was easier to paint virtue as hypocrisy than admit one's own shortcomings.
"If the world insists on seeing her as pure..." she said softly, "...then we'll simply show them another version of her."
Bola looked up.
"You think she's pretending?"
"I think everyone has limits," the leader replied. "Saints included."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping into a dangerous whisper.
"We don't attack strength head-on."
Her gaze sharpened.
"We isolate it."
"We provoke it."
"We test it."
"We wait for the cracks."
The girls listened intently.
"People don't need truth," she continued. "They only need something believable enough to doubt what they once admired."
A slow grin spread across Foxy's face.
"So, we destroy the image."
"We expose the girl behind it," Lolu added.
"Or create one," another whispered.
The leader's expression remained unreadable.
"Whether Rihannat is genuine or not doesn't matter anymore."
The words settled heavily over them.
"What matters..."
She looked toward the dark horizon.
"...is whether she can survive what comes next."
Bola felt a flicker of excitment and... unease for no reason
Because somewhere beneath all her bitterness, she knew the truth.
If Rihannat truly was pretending...
Then eventually, she would fall.
But if she wasn't—
If her kindness, faith, and modesty were real—
Then what they were preparing to unleash would reveal something far more elevating.elevation for her. And might destroy them in the process. Shed the clothe off.
Not who Rihannat was.
But who they had become.
The leader stretched out her hand.
The others placed theirs over hers without hesitation.
A ritual forged by resentment.
"We live together..."
"We die together," they chorused.
Laughter echoed through the empty courtyard.
Some danced.
Others whistled.
It might have resembled celebrations
But the moon overhead bore witness to something else entirely.
A gathering of wounded hearts that had chosen darkness over healing.
Gathering of lost dark souls that still keep teetering on the edges of hellhole. No turning back.
Ladies who choose darkness instead of light.
And somewhere far away, unaware of the storm advancing toward her, Rihannat slept beneath the comfort of those who loved her—
While shadows sharpened their claws in anticipation.
@OlukoyaZainab