It was a dark alley—
Empty. Silent. Desolate. The kind of place where no help ever came.
A lone figure dashed through the narrow stretch, her breath ragged, limbs trembling. Not walking—running. Running for her life.
Behind her, footsteps echoed—multiple. A pack of predators. One obese, the others gaunt and ominous, like shadows from a midnight ritual.
Terror pulsed through her veins. She ran, praying under her breath, her silent sobs lost in the howling wind. She already knew how it ended—she'd seen it in the movies. First, the chase. Then, the assault. And then... death.
No one would care that she'd fought. No one would ask if she screamed. The world wouldn't see a victim—they'd call her a disgrace. "Careless," they'd say. "Why was she even there?"
Even now, there were eyes watching from the shadows. The click of the latest iPhone 16 Pro Max. The gleam of a Samsung S24 Ultra. Phones ready to record. Ready to capture every horror in perfect, crystal-clear detail.
•••
"Are you here to seduce her, like you did in high school?"
The voice pierced the air like a blade—cold, mocking. A voice she hadn't heard in years.
Angel froze. Her eyes narrowed as the familiar cruelty slid back into her world like an old enemy.
"What?" Stella's voice chimed in with fake surprise. "You know her?"
"Of course. Everyone in our secondary school knew her. The infamous lesbian. Almost got suspended for her 'notorious ways.' A star-chaser."
"Melanie," Angel said quietly, her voice low but sharp. "You were two years ahead of me in school. I guess I'm the only one who's grown up enough to recognize bullshit when I hear it."
Smack.
A harsh slap landed across Angel's face.
The sudden impact stunned the crowd. Angel's head snapped to the side—but instead of crying, she let out a dry, maniacal laugh.
"Hah! Hah-hah... Hahaha!"
She turned to face her attacker, rubbing her cheek. Her skin now beet red, her voice steady despite the rising sting.
"Senior Lizzy..." Angel began, eyes glinting with cold fire, "you, of all people, should know—I hate being slapped."
"You rotten egg. What kind of manners did you learn, huh? Is this how our school raised you?" Lizzy hissed.
"And why am I always the target?" Angel challenged. "I never slept around. Unlike some people."
She turned to Stella now, her voice slicing through the tension like a blade. "You and your circle know damn well—I kept my dignity. I was alone. I survived."
"Outrageous!" Lizzy screamed. Another slap. This time, even harsher.
Angel's face was burning now, but her eyes had gone cold. Her fists clenched at her sides.
"So this is it? You're here to bully me again—like back then?" Her voice was trembling now, not from fear, but restrained fury.
Stella sneered. "I can't believe I let a lesbian slut into my apartment. Is that why you never dated men? Were you secretly crushing on me?"
There was an audible gasp. The group fell into uncomfortable silence.
Then Angel laughed again. This time, darker. More guttural.
"Crush on you? Don't flatter yourself."
She stepped forward, fearless.
"Let's be real. If I were into girls, I wouldn't choose someone like you. A girl who's had six abortions, who's battled vaginal infections over and over, who's been treated for STDs more times than she's changed majors. You think I'd go for someone as used up as you?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "Please. I'd look for someone clean."
Silence fell again. Heavier now.
Lizzy raised her hand to strike her again.
But Angel caught it mid-air.
Her grip was firm. Unforgiving.
Then—Slap. Slap. Two sharp, back-to-back slaps that echoed through the room.
"You want to hit me?" Angel spat. "Not this time. I kept quiet back then because we were in school. I respected that boundary. But not anymore. I won't be your punching bag."
Lizzy staggered back, eyes wide.
Then her voice trembled, "Were... were you the reason I got rejected for six whole years?"
Angel tilted her head.
"What makes you think that?"
"It's true then," Lizzy muttered. "You really are a witch."
Angel's laughter returned—low, deadly, almost mournful. "No, Senior. I'm just someone who endured the hell you created. And now? I'm done playing victim."
She turned to Melanie.
"And you... You were worse than all of them combined. You slept with a man old enough to be your grandfather. Just for a plate of food in the dining hall."
Melanie's eyes bulged. "H-How did you—?"
"Dera told me. She's his subject prefect. She overheard everything. And later... she brought me with her. I saw it with my own eyes. What you do behind those closed doors."
Stella hissed, "Still deflecting, I see. Trying to cover your filth with ours."
She lunged again—but Angel was ready. Her voice thundered.
"I let you speak. Now, listen. That entire 'lesbian' case in school? It was all you, Lizzy. You needed a scapegoat, and I was foolish enough to walk into your trap."
Angel's voice broke slightly, but she pushed forward. "You were the one with three boys on top of you that day. Three hands inside you. I saw you. You saw me. You panicked. You knew I could expose you. So you sacrificed me."
Her fists trembled.
"I was just a JSS1 student. And you ruined my name. You enjoyed it—you and your clique. Dragged more people into the mess just to bury me deeper."
Angel's voice dropped into a cold whisper.
"But you won, didn't you?"
She turned toward the exit.
"Oh—and Lizzy? I heard you missed your matriculation. Something about the school board questioning your admission?"
A cruel smile tugged at her lips.
"Guess the phrase fits: The first shall be last, and the last shall be first."
The group looked like children caught stealing candy—silent, pale, guilt-stricken.
"And Melanie?" Angel added, voice sharp. "You tried to protect your image at the cost of mine. Remember that."
Then she turned to go.
Stella shouted after her. "Who the hell is Chioma?!"
Angel didn't look back.
"Since you're so good at digging into people's lives, go ahead. You'll be surprised."
She stormed out of the restaurant.
And only when she was sure she was far away, safe in the shadows of a quiet street...
...did she finally let the tears fall.