Ade was up before the sun, groggy and beat from a night spent tossing and turning. Baba Ikuomola, the village hunter, had insisted he stay inside the hut—for safety, he'd said. But honestly? Felt more like a prison than protection.
He barely got any sleep. Every little sound—soft voices, footsteps, shadows flickering outside the window—sent his nerves buzzing. Each time he jerked awake, everything outside went eerily quiet. Sometimes he wondered if his fear scared whatever was out there, or if something crouched in the dark was watching him too.
Now he stood outside in a fog so cold it seemed to bite right through his bones. Baba Ikuomola stepped out, bow slung over his shoulder. The old hunter looked just as wrecked as Ade.
"You didn't sleep," Baba muttered without looking at him.
Ade forced a smile. "Who sleeps anymore in this village?"
Baba just shook his head, sighing. "Evil doesn't need rest."
They trudged together toward the village center, boots crunching on the dirt path. After a while, Ade decided to ask.
"Baba… who are the Night People, really?"
Baba stopped, scanning the mist nervously. When he answered, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"There's an old story. From before even your ancestors, when Ajeji was crawling with secrets. People here lived near spirits. But there was one clan nobody talked about."
He leaned in, voice dropping.
"They called them Àwon Eni Oru. The Night People."
Ade's throat felt dry. "What did they do?"
Darkness settled over Baba's face.
"They did things even the gods wouldn't touch. Rituals, kidnappings… they'd snatch villagers right out of their beds, drag them into the woods. Nobody ever came back. Elders claimed they wiped them out years ago," Baba shook his head slowly, "but evil never really disappears. It just waits."
Suddenly, something shot across the path—a blur, animal or maybe not. Ade jolted.
"Baba, did you see—?"
The hunter reached out, grabbing Ade's arm, voice sharp.
"Don't look at them. If you see them, they'll see you."
Ade felt his skin prickling. They kept walking until they reached what used to be the village square. The stone well was cracked, the old drum stand destroyed, ashes everywhere.
Ade barely managed, "What happened?"
Baba crouched to touch the ashes, then yanked his hand away fast.
"They burned something… Or maybe someone."
Ade's stomach knotted. Suddenly, Mama Jola hurried over, eyes wild, her wrapper pulled tight.
"Adegboyega!" she shouted, seizing his hands. "You're back! Your mother warned us you would return!"
Ade squeezed her hands, desperate. "Mama Jola, please. Where is she?"
She shook her head, and for a second it looked like the truth hurt more than anything.
"No one comes back from where they take you."
Ade's jaw clenched.
"Tell me who took her."
She lowered her voice even more.
"The Night People. Two nights ago, your mother heard them first—whistling. She ran, but…" Tears slid down her cheeks. "She vanished into the fog, just like the others."
Ade's knees threatened to give way. Baba grabbed his shoulder, holding him steady.
"We'll find her," Baba promised, voice steady.
Mama Jola leaned in, whispering so low it almost got lost in the mist.
"If you want her back, there's only one person who can help."
Ade frowned. "Who?"
She hesitated, then pointed to the edge of the woods, where trees seemed to rustle.
"The priestess from the forbidden shrine. Iya Aje."
Baba's eyes went wide. "Mama Jola! That shrine is cursed."
She nodded, weary and scared. "Yes, but she knows things even the elders won't admit. She understands the mark carved into your wall."
Ade's heart beat faster.
"She knows about the Night People?"
Baba stepped in front, blocking Ade's path toward the woods.
"Adegboyega, you need to understand—if you go, there's no guarantee you'll ever come back."
Ade met his gaze.
"If I don't, I'll never see my mother again."
They stood there, silent for a moment.
Finally, Baba lowered his bow, voice quiet.
"May the spirits protect us. Because if we enter that forest…" He paused, searching Ade's eyes.
"…we're walking right into the mouth of evil."
Ade tried to steady his breath as they reached the edge of the woods.
The trees seemed to tremble. Whispers twisted through the mist.
Deep in those tangled branches, something waited.