*CHAPTER TWO: THE GIRL AND THE SHADOWS*
Dammy woke up to the sound of dripping water and the faint buzz of a generator outside. His head throbbed. His shoulder burned. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw the ceiling—cracked, dusty, and covered in cobwebs. This wasn't his room. This wasn't anywhere he recognized.
He tried to sit up, but the pain on his shoulder forced him back down with a wince.
"You should lie still," a voice said gently.
He turned his head and saw her.
The same girl from the light.
She was seated on a low wooden stool, a lantern beside her casting a warm, flickering glow across the room. Her skin glowed amber in the light. Her long black hair was tied up loosely, and her eyes... they looked almost too calm for someone who'd just pulled a stranger from the hands of a monster.
"Where... where am I?" Dammy croaked.
"A safe place. For now," she replied, standing and walking over. She checked the cloth wrapped around his shoulder—it was soaked in blood but had stopped bleeding. "You're lucky to be alive."
Dammy tried to remember what happened. The darkness. The eyes. The claws. That thing. He shivered.
"What was that thing?" he asked.
She hesitated. "You saw it."
"Yes. It tried to kill me."
She nodded. "It's called (Eran Oru). The Night Beast. You wandered into its ground."
He stared at her, confused. "Eran what?"
"Eran Oru," she repeated. "It's not a myth. Not a story. It's real. And it's been feeding beneath this city for a very long time."
Dammy felt the room spin.
"You're saying Lagos has... monsters?"
"Not monsters," she corrected. "Ancient evils. Bound things. Forgotten by time—but they live beneath us. In tunnels, bunkers, buried ruins. You just happened to find one."
He shook his head in disbelief. "Why me? I wasn't looking for anything!"
She gave him a long look.
"Maybe it was looking for you."
Looking for me ?? Why would I be haunted by an ancient evil it's not as if I took something from it I've been living my life like every other human would so why now ?? he asked
She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stood and walked toward a dusty old shelf at the corner of the room. She pulled out a weathered leather-bound book and dropped it on the floor between them with a thud.
Dammy flinched.
"Because sometimes," she said softly, flipping the pages, "evil doesn't need a reason. Sometimes… it chooses."
He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
She turned the book around to show him a sketch—an eerie drawing of a creature with glowing eyes and long claws emerging from darkness. Beneath it was a name: *The Chosen Host*.
"I think it marked you," she said. "It doesn't hunt just anyone. It latches onto someone it can corrupt, torment, or possess."
Dammy's heart dropped. "Possess?! As in—demonic possession?"
She nodded gravely.
He sat up, ignoring the pain. "No. No way. This must be some kind of sick prank. Maybe I hit my head, maybe I'm hallucinating."
The girl walked closer. "You felt it, didn't you? The paralysis. The fear. The way it called your name."
He froze again. "Wait… how do you know it called my name?"
She didn't blink. "Because it *once called mine too.*"
The room went quiet. Even the dripping outside seemed to stop.
Dammy stared at her. "Who *are* you?"
She took a deep breath.
"My name is Amara. And I've been fighting this evil since I was thirteen."
—13 years Dammy said shocked!! That's unbelievable if you've been fighting that thing for 13 years and still haven't killed it what's my survival rate in all these then Amara gave a faint, tired smile. "It's not about killing it, Dammy. You *can't* kill what was never meant to die."
He blinked. "You're not exactly helping my anxiety here."
She sat back down, brushing her long hair behind her ear. "You survive by *understanding* it. By staying one step ahead. It feeds on fear, confusion, and isolation. That's how it traps you. That's how it almost got me too."
Dammy let out a shaky breath, his shoulder still burning from the creature's claw marks. "So what now? It's out there. Lurking. Waiting. Am I supposed to just… hide forever?"
Amara shook her head. "No. Now you *train.* You learn. Because from this point on, your life is no longer ordinary. You've been marked, Dammy. And the moment you stepped into that darkness, your old life ended."
A silence hung between them before she added softly, "But you're not alone anymore."
Dammy looked at her, eyes narrowing. "So you're telling me there's more like you out there?"
She stood slowly, walking to a hidden trapdoor in the corner of the room. "More like *us*."
With a creak, she opened it, revealing a staircase descending into darkness lit by flickering lanterns.
"Welcome to the Resistance," she said. "You're going to need it."
—
The resistance that's a cool name sounds like the avengers type shit stuff
Amara chuckled, "If only it was that glamorous. No suits, no shield, no flying cars. Just nightmares, old scars, and the occasional demon that smells like burnt akara."
Dammy smirked. "So basically, NEPA with fangs."
She laughed, then turned serious. "But we fight. We protect people who don't even know they need protecting. And now… you're one of us."
He looked down into the flickering stairway. His whole life was changing — from danfo rides to dodging ancient evil.
He sighed. "Lead the way, Captain Zobo."
She rolled her eyes. "Let's go before you die cracking jokes."
They descended into the shadows.
—
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a heavy steel door hissed open, revealing a hidden world beneath Lagos.
The base was carved into the rock—dimly lit with red emergency lights glowing along the walls. The hum of generators echoed in the distance. Old artifacts lined glass cases: charms, masks, scrolls, even a weathered cutlass glowing faintly blue.
Monitors flickered with surveillance footage—streets, shrines, forest paths, and one feed showing a shadow shifting unnaturally across a church wall.
A few people moved around in tactical gear, some chanting low incantations over ancient books, others loading weapons dipped in what looked like blessed oil.
"This," Amara said, stepping into the room, "is The Resistance."
Dammy just stood there—wide-eyed.
A man in a dark cloak walked up, eyes sharp, beard silver. "You brought him?"
Amara nodded. "He survived the first contact."
The man looked Dammy over.
"Then we don't have much time."
—
Uhmmm excuse me I have questions and what do you mean we don't have much time ?? I literally just got here
The man didn't smile. "And the fact that you *just* got here means it's already begun."
Dammy blinked. "What's *it*?"
"The Awakening," Amara said quietly. "The creature that came for you… that was just a scout. A piece of something much older. Much worse."
The man stepped closer. "That mark on your shoulder—it's a beacon now. The others will follow it. You're not just haunted anymore, boy. You're *hunted*."
Dammy took a step back. "This is mad. I was supposed to just get bread and sardine this morning."
Amara gave a small grin. "Welcome to the Resistance."
Oh shit atleast can I get something to eat you don't expect me to fight anything or train on an empty stomach
Amara chuckled. "Fair enough. Follow me—canteen's this way."
As they walked through the metallic corridor, Dammy glanced around at the strange symbols carved into the walls and the odd mix of tech and tradition—someone passed him holding a bowl of efo riro while another tinkered with a glowing spear.
They entered the canteen. Long metal tables, steaming pots, and the smell of hot jollof rice filled the air.
Dammy grabbed a plate, eyes wide. "At least the end of the world tastes good."
From across the room, a tall woman with tribal marks whispered, "He jokes. That's a good sign… for now."
Hmm what does she mean do people barely crack jokes to feel lively here he asked with his mouth full of food
The woman approached, her arms folded across her chest. "Laughter is rare down here. Most people are too scared or too broken to remember how."
She sat across from Dammy, eyes sharp. "But you? You're either brave… or stupid."
Dammy swallowed. "Why not both?"
Amara smirked from the side. "Meet Captain Rinu. She's one of our best. Survived five raids. Doesn't laugh much, but she hasn't died either."
Rinu leaned in. "Eat fast, rookie. Your training starts in 30 minutes."
Dammy froze. "Wait… *training*?"
.Oh I almost forgot perhaps your beauty erased my memories
Rinu raised an eyebrow. "Flattery won't save you from broken bones."
Dammy grinned. "Noted. But if I'm going to get bruised, at least let it be by someone stunning."
Amara rolled her eyes. "This one's got jokes for days."
Rinu stood up, clearly unimpressed but slightly amused. "Let's see if your charm survives combat practice. Finish your food, *lover boy*. You're about to meet the Pit."
Dammy looked up mid-bite. "The what now?"
Amara leaned in. "The Pit. Where recruits cry, bleed… and either break or become one of us."
I didn't come here to eat and break bones almost immediately what if I don't survive the training
Rinu glanced back, her voice flat. "Then you don't. Simple."
Dammy blinked. "Wow. No motivational speech? No 'you can do it'? Just straight to death?"
Amara shrugged. "This isn't a movie, Dammy. That thing that dragged you—*it* doesn't care how funny you are. Only the strong survive down here. Or the fast."
Dammy sighed, pushing his plate aside. "Fine. Let's go meet this *Pit*. But if I die, haunt me with jokes, okay?"
Rinu smirked slightly. "If you die, you'll be the joke."
Alright let's get this over with he said trying to be brave atleast
Amara gave him a small nod. "That's the spirit. Fake it till it's real."
They led him through a long, dim hallway lit by flickering bulbs. The air grew colder, thicker. Muffled screams echoed faintly in the distance.
"Is that… someone crying?" Dammy asked, slowing his steps.
"No," Rinu said. "That's someone learning."
They reached a heavy metal door. Rinu punched in a code, and it groaned open, revealing a huge underground arena with cracked floors, scorched walls, and training dummies that looked too realistic.
Dammy muttered, "Oh yeah. This totally screams fun."
Except the part where I'm not planning on bleeding myself out here
Dammy grimaced, eyes scanning the intimidating arena. "Except the part where I'm not planning on bleeding myself out here."
Amara smirked, folding her arms. "No promises, but you'll be ready—or at least alive."
Rinu stepped forward, tossing him a worn training sword. "Let's see what you've got."
The air inside the arena was thick with dust and tension. Shadows danced across the cracked walls as Dammy took a deep breath, gripping the sword tightly. Every muscle in his body tensed, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—quick, agile, eyes sharp as a hawk. The training had begun.
Dammy's heart pounded as he stepped into the arena. The walls loomed high, enclosing a space filled with dust and shadows. His legs trembled, but he squared his shoulders, gripping the worn wooden staff handed to him.
From the shadows, a figure emerged—fast, silent, and deadly. His opponent was a seasoned fighter, eyes sharp and movements fluid. The fight began.
Dammy blocked the first strike, barely, and stumbled back. Each attack pushed him to his limits, but he remembered the woman's words: *"Survive, and you live to fight another day."*
Sweat dripped down his face as he parried, dodged, and countered. The crowd's silence made every breath loud in his ears. Then, with a sudden burst of courage, Dammy lunged forward, After Dammy lunged forward, he took the few seconds he had to spot his opponent's weakness. The fighter always left himself too open when attacking. Seeing the opening, Dammy sprinted toward him, faking a powerful blow, then suddenly delivered a sharp knee to the face. His opponent fell flat to the ground, grimacing in pain.
Just when Dammy thought he had secured his victory, two more opponents suddenly appeared from nowhere, closing in fast. His moment of relief vanished as the fight intensified, forcing him to defend against the unexpected attack from both sides. He got beaten brutally from both sides and then he remembered he made a promise to himself that no matters what happens he must live a good life from nowhere adrenaline surge into him he grab hold of the first opponent leg headbutting him to his knees the second opponent grabbed him by the waist trying to hold him down Dammy took the opponent using both of his legs to restrict the opponents movement then using the weight of his body to make his opponent lose balance
With the second opponent struggling to keep his balance, Dammy twisted sharply, breaking free from the hold. Gasping for breath, he looked around, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He knew this was only the beginning—survival meant outsmarting and outlasting them all. This time he had just one opponent left and his opponent is weak he took the sword given to him before he entered the arena he threw the butt of the weapon at his opponents head knocking him out totally and everyone in the arena roared at his victory
The sound of the crowd's cheer echoed through the underground arena like thunder. Dammy stood there, chest heaving, bruised and bloodied—but victorious. His grip tightened around the sword, still trembling from the battle, as the gates creaked open and Amara walked in slowly, a proud but unreadable look on her face.
"You're tougher than you look," she said, arms crossed.
Dammy spat out a bit of blood and grinned. "Told you I wasn't planning on bleeding for nothing."
She nodded. "You've just earned your place in the Resistance."