Morning came reluctantly and the city moved on, pretending last night hadn't happened. Vendors returned to their stalls, traffic swallowed the streets, and Lagos began its usual rhythm...loud, chaotic, alive. But for Detective Taye Daramola, nothing about the morning felt ordinary.
He hadn't slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her — the woman in white, standing on the rooftop, rain frozen midair around her. He could still hear her voice, that haunting echo wrapping around his name:
> "You shouldn't have followed the ash."
Taye rubbed his temples as he entered the Central Forensics Division. The sterile, white hallway smelled faintly of bleach and burnt coffee. The morgue was on the lower level, where the fluorescent lights buzzed like angry flies.
Inside, Inspector Nnena Okeke was already waiting, arms crossed, expression tight. "You look like hell," she said.
"Thanks," he replied, forcing a dry smile. "You should see how I feel."
She rolled her eyes and handed him a tablet. "Autopsy came in an hour ago. You're gonna want to see this."
He took the device, scrolling through the report.... body temperature below freezing, no internal bleeding, no sign of trauma. The organs looked healthy. Even the heart. Except… it wasn't beating.
It had been turned to ash.
Taye frowned. "Inside out," he murmured.
"Yeah," Nnena said, her voice low. "The coroner said the heart looked crystallized before it disintegrated. Like it was burned by light, not heat."
He scrolled again, then stopped.
There, under "Distinctive Markings," was a high-resolution photo of the circular symbol on the victim's neck. Only this time, it looked different. The three crescents glowed faintly under ultraviolet light, forming a pattern of ancient script within the circle.... words he couldn't read but somehow recognized.
"Taye?" Nnena asked, noticing his silence. "You've seen this before?"
He hesitated. "No," he lied. "Just… looks familiar."
Because it did.
Somewhere in his memory.... or maybe his blood...that pattern pulsed like an old echo.
Nnena sighed. "There's something else. The lab said the ash residue isn't organic. It's made of a mineral compound that doesn't exist on any record. It reacts to ultraviolet light.... almost like it's alive."
"Alive?"
"Yeah. When they shone the light, it moved. Just slightly, but it shifted.....like it was breathing."
A silence stretched between them.
Finally, Taye slipped the tablet back into her hand. "Get the compound to Dr. Obinna at the research wing. Tell him to run a spectral test."
"Already did. He said he'll call when he has something."
Taye turned toward the exit, his mind a storm. He barely noticed Nnena calling after him, "And get some rest, detective!"
He didn't reply.
The rain had stopped by the time he stepped outside, but the clouds above the city still hung heavy and bruised. He walked down the station steps, his coat brushing against his legs, and felt the world buzzing faintly beneath his skin, like the air carried an invisible hum that followed him.
At the corner of the street, he stopped for coffee. The vendor, a wrinkled old man with a toothless grin, poured the steaming liquid into a paper cup. "You police always look tired," the man said. "You chase shadows too much."
Taye gave a faint laugh. "You have no idea."
But as he reached for the cup, the man's expression shifted. His pupils widened, and for a brief moment, his voice changed, deeper, hollow, not entirely human.
> "The veil thins, Daramola. She remembers you."
Taye froze. The world seemed to tilt. The man blinked, suddenly confused, his face returning to normal. "Sorry, officer. What did you say?"
Taye didn't answer. He dropped a few notes on the counter and walked away fast, his pulse hammering. She remembers you.
That night, he sat alone in his apartment, a dim, cluttered space filled with case files, empty cups, and half-finished notes. The rain had returned, tapping softly against the window.
He flipped through old reports, scanning for anything that connected the victims. Three men, one woman. No shared workplace. No family ties. But all four had one thing in common... they lived within a two-mile radius of Ash Street.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Why Ash Street?" he whispered.
And then his phone buzzed.
It was Dr. Obinna from the research wing.
"Taye, you're not going to believe this," the scientist said, his voice trembling slightly. "That mineral you sent? It's not from Earth. Or, at least, not from this age of Earth."
"What do you mean?"
"It predates recorded history. The atomic structure matches what we've only seen in meteorite samples....but even those don't glow under ultraviolet. This one… reacts to human DNA. It responds to it."
Taye's breath caught. "Responds how?"
"When one of my interns touched it, her heartbeat synchronized with the pulse coming from the sample."
"Pulse?"
"Yes. Like it was alive. And get this.... it stopped glowing after she removed her hand. But when I touched it, nothing happened. The sample only reacts to people with a certain genetic pattern. Nigerian descent, specifically the old Yoruba lineage."
Taye's grip on the phone tightened. His chest felt heavy.
"Send me everything," he said quickly. "Now."
He ended the call, setting the phone on the table. For a long time, he just sat there silent, motionless. Yoruba lineage. His mother had told him stories of ancient bloodlines, of gods who once walked among men. He'd laughed at them then.
But now…
He stood, moving toward the mirror on the wall. The reflection that stared back at him looked exhausted,dark circles under his eyes, rain-dampened hair, and something else.
Something glowing faintly behind his pupils.
A flicker of gold.
Suddenly, the light in the room dimmed. The rain outside stopped mid-fall again. His breath hitched. The mirror shimmered like water.
And then.....she was there.
The woman in white.
Her reflection appeared beside his, standing as if she'd always been part of the same world. Her golden eyes softened this time, filled not with warning but with something close to sorrow.
"You keep searching for truth, Taye Daramola," she whispered, her voice almost breaking. "But truth isn't what you think it is."
He swallowed hard. "Who are you?"
She looked at him for a long, aching moment.....and for the first time, he felt her sadness like it was his own.
"The one you once swore to protect," she said. "Before the fire took everything."
Before he could speak, the mirror cracked. The reflection shattered, and the rain crashed back against the window.
She was gone again.
Taye staggered back, heart pounding. His reflection looked normal once more except for the faint golden mark now glowing on his neck, the same one that had been carved into the victims'
He stared at it in horror and awe.
Whatever curse haunted Ash Street…was now inside him.