The first scream came before she opened her eyes.
Sharp.
Piercing.
Right inside her head.
Nneka gasped and jolted upright.
Her chest was heaving.
Her hands were clutching the ground beneath the Udala tree.
"I'm awake…" she whispered."I'm awake—stop!"
But it didn't stop.
Another scream.
Then another.
Dozens.
Layered.
Overlapping.
Not whispers anymore.
No voices are asking to be heard.
These were voices demanding.
Crying.
Begging.
"LET ME OUT!"
"IT'S TOO DARK!"
"HELP ME—PLEASE!"
Nneka screamed, covering her ears.
"Stop! I can't hear—I can't—!"
But the sound wasn't outside.
It was inside her.
The tree trembled slightly above her.
"It has begun…"
Nneka shook her head violently.
"What has begun?!"
No answer.
Only more screams.
Her vision blurred.
The world twisted.
And suddenly—
She wasn't under the tree anymore.
She was standing…
Inside the door.
Darkness stretched endlessly around her.
Cold.
Heavy.
And then—
Hands.
From the ground.
From the walls.
From the darkness itself.
Reaching.
Grabbing.
Pulling toward her.
"HELP US!"
Nneka stumbled back.
"No—stay back!"
But they didn't listen.
They never did.
"You opened it!"
"You hear us!"
"You are ours!"
Her heart raced.
"I didn't mean to!"
A hand grabbed her ankle.
Ice cold.
She screamed and kicked free.
But more hands reached.
More voices rose.
The darkness shifted.
And then—
Everything went silent.
Instantly.
Too instant.
Nneka froze.
And slowly…
very slowly…
Something stepped forward from the darkness.
Him.
The buried one.
His form is clearer now.
Stronger.
More… present.
"You see?" he said calmly.
The chaos behind him stilled.
"They are desperate."
Nneka's breath trembled.
"You're using them."
A small smile touched his lips.
"No."
He stepped closer.
"I am leading them."
Her chest tightened.
"They're suffering!"
His expression didn't change.
"So did I."
The ground beneath her feet cracked.
"They screamed while I clawed for air… while the earth filled my lungs… while they walked away and forgot me."
His voice deepened.
Darkened.
"Now they will remember."
Nneka shook her head.
"No… this isn't right."
He tilted his head.
"Right?" he repeated softly.
A pause.
Then—
"There is no right… only power."
The screams returned suddenly.
Louder than before.
Nneka fell to her knees.
"I can't take this!"
The buried one stepped closer.
"You can."
He reached toward her.
"Because you were made for this."
Nneka's heart stopped.
"No…"
He crouched in front of her.
"You think this is a curse?"
His eyes locked into hers.
"It is a gift."
The darkness pulsed.
The screams rose.
"And when you accept it…"
The door behind him opened wider.
Light and shadow twisting together.
"You will become more than human."
Nneka's breath shook.
"I don't want power."
A long silence.
Then—
His voice dropped.
Cold.
Certain.
"Then you will be consumed by those who do."
Suddenly—
Her body snapped back.
The darkness shattered.
And she was back—
Under the Udala tree.
Gasping.
Crying.
Shaking uncontrollably.
The screams didn't stop.
Even here.
Even awake.
"Make it stop…" she begged.
The tree's voice came slowly.
Heavy.
"You must learn to control it."
Her head shook violently.
"I can't!"
"You must."
Her hands dug into the earth.
"They're inside my head!"
The wind rose.
"Because the door is opening."
Her chest tightened.
"Then close it!"
Silence.
A long.
Painful.
Silence.
Then—
"You cannot."
Nneka froze.
"What…?"
The leaves above her trembled.
"Not anymore."
Her breath stopped.
"No… no, you're lying—there has to be a way!"
The tree didn't respond.
The truth had already taken root in her heart.
Heavy.
Cold.
Unavoidable.
She had crossed something.
And there was no going back.
Far away—
Back in the village—
A child suddenly stopped playing.
Her body stiffened.
Her eyes rolled back.
And then—
She screamed.
Not her voice.
"SHE OPENED IT!"
Back under the Udala tree—
Nneka froze.
Because for the first time…
She heard a voice that wasn't in her head.
However, it was a voice that existed outside her mind.
Calling her name.
"Nneka…"
Slow.
Familiar.
And filled with fear.
It was her mother.