The night began in laughter. Sixteen friends, young and restless, flew above the clouds with champagne in their hands and music shaking the walls of Lucas's borrowed jet. The air smelled of perfume, whiskey, and privilege.
Lucas stood in the aisle, raising his glass with dramatic flair. "To thirty days of freedom!" he shouted. His voice, usually careless, carried an edge tonight—like he wanted them to see him as more than just the fool of the group.
Nina squealed and clinked glasses with Jonas, her athlete boyfriend, whose booming laugh drowned out the hum of the engines. Ivy smirked at Tariq, who winked back with reckless charm. David leaned quietly against his seat, his eyes lingering on Maya—her calm smile softening the chaos around them.
Only Ruth seemed out of place. She sat stiff in her corner, her Bible in her lap, eyes darting to the emergency lights above. Her parents hadn't wanted her here. Her heart hadn't wanted her here. But Lucas and Ivy had teased her for days, insisting she stop being "the boring church girl."
"Come on, Ruth," Ivy had said, rolling her eyes. "What's the worst that can happen?"
Now, as laughter filled the cabin, Ruth forced a smile she didn't feel. Her fingers traced the edge of her Bible. Deep inside, something whispered that she should have stayed home.
Then it happened.
The overhead lights flickered once… then twice. A low, ugly groan shook the floor. David's instincts sharpened instantly. He leaned forward, gripping the seat in front of him. "That's not turbulence," he muttered.
Aisha, ever observant, saw the cockpit door creak open. One of the pilots stepped out, pale and sweating, whispering urgently to his partner before vanishing back inside. Her chest tightened. Something was wrong.
Before anyone could ask questions, the jet dipped hard to the left. Drinks spilled, screams erupted, the music cut off.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Lucas shouted, staggering down the aisle. His trademark grin had vanished, replaced with raw fear.
The intercom crackled, filled with static, then the trembling voice of the pilot:
"Engine failure… brace yourselves."
Gasps broke across the cabin. Nina clutched Jonas's arm so tightly her nails left marks. Naomi covered her mouth. Samuel's eyes darted everywhere, wild with paranoia.
And then, horror.
The cockpit door burst open, and one of the pilots bolted out—already strapped into a parachute.
"What the hell are you doing?!" David roared, leaping from his seat. But the pilot didn't look at them. He didn't apologize. He didn't care.
He ripped open the emergency hatch. Cold night air slashed into the cabin like knives. With one desperate leap, the man hurled himself into the dark.
Screams filled the jet.
"No… no, no, no!" Maya cried, her hands flying to her head.
The second pilot appeared, fumbling with his parachute straps. He too tried to escape, but panic betrayed him—his harness caught on the metal frame. For one horrifying second, his body slammed against the side of the hatch with a crunch that echoed. Then the air swallowed him whole.
"Oh my God…" Ella whispered, shaking, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Ruth clutched her Bible tighter, whispering prayers through trembling lips. She hadn't wanted this trip. She had begged God to keep her home. Now here she was, flying into hell because her friends had mocked her into coming.
The jet screamed as if alive, metal tearing itself apart. Luggage rained from overhead compartments. Nina shrieked. Jonas, reckless as always, tried to stand and grab hold of her—but the jet slammed into another violent drop. He lost his footing.
"Everyone brace!" Maya shouted, forcing her voice steady, though her hands trembled.
The impact came like judgment.
The world shattered. Metal tore open. Flames burst through the cabin. Glass rained like daggers. Their bodies were flung like ragdolls. Screams mixed with the roar of fire and the deafening thunder of destruction.
When the wreckage settled, the night was broken. Smoke curled into the starless sky. Sparks crackled against torn steel. The air reeked of fuel and blood.
David was the first to move, crawling out of the wreckage with Ella clinging desperately to him. Chike stumbled out behind them, carrying Omar, whose leg bent at a wrong angle. Maya ripped cloth from her dress to bind wounds, fighting tears.
Lucas stood in shock, staring at the wreck of the jet he had stolen from his father. His face was pale, his hands shaking. His laughter was gone, replaced by the heavy silence of guilt.
Then came a scream.
Nina. She was kneeling in the wreckage, her voice hoarse, clawing at the twisted beam pinning Jonas's chest. His body was broken, blood pooling beneath him. His once-mighty frame, the strongest among them, had been reduced to silence.
"No… no, Jonas, please, please don't leave me!" Nina wailed, her hands bloody as she tried to move the beam. But his eyes were already glassy, his breath gone.
The group stood in stunned silence, the reality of death settling on them like a curse.
"We… we survived…" Naomi whispered weakly, clutching her chest. But her voice trembled, because survival had come at a cost.
Ruth staggered forward, staring at Jonas's body, then at the burning wreckage. Her Bible shook in her grip. A bitter thought burned in her mind, louder than her prayers: This is why I said no. This is why I begged not to come.
Around them, the forest stretched black and endless, its trees whispering in the night wind. The mansion lay hidden, waiting for them. And from somewhere deep inside that darkness… something stirred.
Watching. Listening. Waiting.
One friend was already gone. And it was only Day 1.