"Nneka…"
Her mother's voice trembled in the darkness.
Nneka turned slowly beneath the Udala tree, her body still shaking from the screams in her head.
"Mama…?" she whispered.
Her mother stepped into the faint moonlight.
Her wrapper was loosely tied.Her face was pale.Her eyes… full of something Nneka had never seen before.
Fear.
Not afraid of the spirits.
Fear of her.
"You shouldn't be here," her mother said, her voice low and tight."Come home."
Nneka hesitated.
The voices inside her had quieted… but not gone.
They were watching.
Listening.
Waiting.
"I can't," Nneka said softly.
Her mother's expression hardened.
"Don't say that."
"There's something wrong with me," Nneka whispered."They're getting louder… I can't control it."
A long silence.
Her mother stepped closer.
Slow.
Careful.
"As long as you are my child," she said quietly,"You are coming home."
For a moment…
Nneka wanted to believe her.
Wanted to run into her arms like before.
Before the whispers.
Before the fear.
Before everything changed.
So she stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
And just as she got close—
Her mother froze.
Her eyes dropped.
Not to Nneka's face.
But to the ground behind her.
Her lips parted slightly.
"Nneka…" she whispered.
"Yes?"
"…what is that?"
Nneka's heart skipped.
"What is what?"
Her mother slowly raised a shaking hand.
Pointing.
Behind her.
Nneka's chest tightened.
She didn't want to turn.
Every part of her screamed not to.
But slowly…
She did.
At first—
Nothing.
Just the forest.
Just shadows.
Then—
It moved.
Not in front of her.
Behind her.
Her shadow.
It shifted.
Twisted.
And slowly—
It stood up.
Separate from her.
Nneka gasped and stumbled back.
"No…"
The thing that had been her shadow stretched taller.
Thinner.
Darker.
Its edges flickered like smoke.
Its head tilted unnaturally.
And then—
It smiled.
Her mother screamed.
"What is that thing?!"
Nneka's breath shook.
"I don't know!"
The shadow stepped forward.
But its feet never touched the ground.
It hovered.
Gliding.
Closer.
"You are not alone anymore…"
The voice came from it.
But not like before.
This one was clearer.
Closer.
Real.
Nneka shook her head.
"Stay away from me!"
The shadow paused.
Then laughed softly.
"I cannot."
It moved again.
"I am part of you now."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"No… that's not true!"
The shadow leaned closer.
"You opened the door."
A pause.
"And I walked through."
Her mother grabbed her arm suddenly.
"We're leaving," she said urgently."Now!"
They turned.
Ran.
Branches snapped beneath their feet.
The wind howled around them.
But the shadow followed.
Not chasing.
Gliding.
Always just behind.
Nneka could feel it.
Every step.
Every breath.
"Mama…" she whispered, terrified."It's still there."
"Don't look back!" her mother shouted.
But Nneka did.
Just for a second.
And what she saw—
Made her heart drop.
There wasn't just one shadow anymore.
There were two.
Then three.
Then more.
Following.
Stretching.
Growing.
Like something was multiplying.
Feeding.
The closer they got to the village—
The louder the voices became again.
And suddenly—
A man stepped into their path.
One of the villagers.
He froze when he saw them.
Then his eyes shifted.
Past Nneka.
To the shadows behind her.
His face drained of color.
"No…" he whispered.
The shadows surged forward.
And before Nneka could react—
One of them touched him.
Just a brush.
Just a second.
The man screamed.
A horrible, broken scream.
And collapsed.
Still.
Silent.
Her mother pulled her back violently.
"RUN!"
They didn't stop this time.
Not until they reached the village center.
Where others had gathered.
Watching.
Waiting.
And when they saw Nneka—
They stepped back.
Not out of confusion.
But fear.
Real fear.
"She brought it!" someone shouted.
"It's following her!"
"Stay away from her!"
Nneka's chest tightened.
Tears filled her eyes.
"I didn't mean to…"
But no one listened.
Because behind her—
The shadows gathered.
Still.
Silent.
Waiting.
And for the first time—
They didn't hide.
They stood.
Visible.
Real.
As the villagers backed away in terror—
One of the shadows stepped forward.
And this time—
It didn't speak to Nneka.
It spoke to them.
"She is ours now."