Chapter 3

The classroom buzzed with noise—chairs scraped, laughter echoed, and students wandered in and out like the lesson had long lost its purpose. Amid the chaos, Natasha sat frozen at her desk, eyes glued to her notes. The world blurred around her, fading into background noise.

> "Victims missing in the north… legs found in the west… organs in the south… melted flesh in the east… and all their blood, gone. Strange…" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

"You're really keeping up with this Phynicx thing, huh?"

Samir's voice snapped her out of her trance. She quickly shut her notebook.

"I've seen it all," he said, his voice laced with a helpless edge.

Natasha simply nodded. She grabbed her bag and stood to leave.

"Good."

She took just a few steps before Samir caught her wrist.

"You shouldn't keep things to yourself, Natasha."

"Thanks for your concern." She forced a smile and yanked her hand away. He followed, undeterred.

"So how do we stop them?"

"What are you talking about?" she replied flatly, still walking.

"Don't play dumb," Samir said, a bit irritated now. "I'm talking about the Phynicx, Natasha."

"Oh?" She arched a brow. "And what makes you think I know how to stop them?"

"I'm not stupid," he said. "You've seen too much. You know too much."

Natasha was about to fire back when she froze mid-step. Her gaze locked on something across the corridor.

"What is it?" Samir asked, noticing her shift.

She ignored him and picked up her pace. He sighed and followed.

---

Not far off, Ola had been watching them. At first, he ignored their interaction—until someone nudged him.

"Hey, isn't that the class rep? Why's he following your cousin?"

That did it.

"Hold this," Ola said, tossing something into the person's hand without even looking. "Be right back."

---

Behind the school, where thick greenery cloaked the grounds and few dared venture, it was the perfect place to be unseen.

"Sir? Where exactly are we going?" Mr. Olushola asked, glancing nervously at the man walking ahead. "You okay? You've been itching your neck and arms a lot lately."

The man didn't respond. Instead, he stopped walking and turned, a sick grin crawling across his face.

"Do you… really not know who I am?"

"What… What are you talking about?" Olushola took a step back.

Suddenly, the man's spine snapped with a sickening crack. Blood oozed from his mouth and nostrils. His skin bubbled. His limbs twisted unnaturally.

"Ehh… ehhh…" he chuckled through his disfigured jaw.

More cracks. His elbows shattered, arms dangling limply.

"I should devour you first," he growled. "You don't even know what you carry… I've waited so long for this moment."

His knees broke. He collapsed to the ground, writhing.

"Give me your blood!!!"

In a flash, he transformed into a monstrous creature—sharp, uneven fangs, claws like scythes, green rotting flesh, thorny protrusions, and glowing yellow eyes. He lunged at Olushola.

But before he could strike—

The monster gasped, frozen mid-air.

Olushola's hand was clamped around its throat. Crack. Crack.

"Ridiculous," he said coldly. "You dare bite the hand that feeds you?"

With a brutal motion, he hurled the beast across the clearing.

He walked forward, eyes gleaming. Blood dripped from his hands as he extended claws from beneath his skin.

"Go to hell."

He plunged his hand into the monster's chest—ripping out its still-beating heart.

The creature howled… then went silent.

Olushola stared at the heart. Then, slowly, he squeezed it. Dark energy pulsed from it into his body. His eyes shifted—from green, to blue, then back to black.

Natasha, hidden among the trees, saw everything.

Olushola turned—sensing her—but saw no one.

Samir's hand clamped over Natasha's mouth as his other arm pulled her back into hiding. Olushola glanced around, saw no one, and continued on his way. Samir exhaled in relief.

"Are you really that obsessed with those things?" he asked, trying to mask his frustration. If they had been caught, they'd probably be dead by now.

"Why are you so obsessed with them?" he repeated, his voice edged with restrained anger.

Natasha turned to face him, her eyes locked on his. She opened her mouth slightly, as if to respond, but no words came out. She seemed to be processing too much at once… and she was scared.

Questions raced through her mind, curiosity burning inside her. But it had almost gotten her killed. She had never seen anything like that before—a creature that, once it infected someone, stripped them of all human emotion and reasoning, leaving only the hunger for blood.

And yet… that man—he had controlled his effortlessly.

What exactly is going on? she wondered. Why… why is this happening to us?

Samir sighed. "Let's go," he muttered, pulling her gently by the hand. Natasha followed silently, her mind still swirling.

—

The door creaked open as Natasha stepped inside, looking much better than she had earlier. She walked quietly to her room.

But when she opened the door, something unexpected greeted her.

On her bed, Ola lay with his legs crossed, one arm propped behind his head, the other holding a book. His expression was frosty—clearly displeased by what he was reading.

"Ola!" Natasha barked, fury flashing in her eyes. She wasn't just mad that he was in her room—he had touched one of her most treasured possessions.

Unfazed by her rage, Ola stood up casually. He dropped the book nonchalantly onto the bed, leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze met hers—cold, intense, angrier than before.

"Why are you here?" she demanded.

"How long has it been?" he replied with a question of his own.

"We agreed to stay out of each other's business!" she snapped, stepping closer, now just a few feet from him.

"Tasha!" he yelled, voice sharp. "You can't do anything!"

"No!" she shot back, voice shaking, tears gathering in her eyes. "You're wrong. I'll do everything I can to end them—forever."

Ola scoffed, his jaw tightening. "You're blinded by anger. These things... they're not your everyday monsters. Even the government's struggling to contain them. And you think you can do something? You? An average schoolgirl?"

"If we keep relying on the government," she said, her voice breaking, "more people will die. Just like my family did."

Ola stepped forward, voice rising. "Then tell me—what exactly are you going to do? How will you stop them? What weapons do you even have?"

"They're only affected by noise," she said quickly. "If we stay quiet long enough, they won't attack—"

"That's not an answer!" he cut her off. "How will you stop them, Tasha? That's the question!"

Natasha bit her lip hard, trembling. She lowered her head, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know…"

Ola exhaled heavily, his anger simmering down. He stepped closer and gently tapped her forehead. "I know you're still grieving. I know you're angry about what happened to your family. But some things are just... meant to happen. If you keep going like this, you'll lose your life before you even realize it."

He turned to leave, but paused at the doorway.

"This is the last time I'll ask you nicely," he said, voice low and threatening. "Stop whatever it is you're doing… and stay away from Samir."

As the door closed behind him, Natasha's knees gave way. She crumbled to the floor, her head bowed toward the earth as tears spilled—not just from her eyes, but from her soul.

Every time she saw those creatures, the memory returned—the image of her parents and little sister, their terrified yet determined faces as they tried to protect her. It was a wound that wouldn't heal… a nightmare she couldn't wake from.

She wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling them close to her chest. Her head rested on her knees, her breathing uneven. Exhaustion eventually claimed her, and she dozed off, still curled on the cold floor by the door.

Some time later, the door creaked open again. Ola stepped inside. His expression softened slightly when he saw her fast asleep on the ground.

He let out a helpless sigh and walked over. Gently, he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed. He tucked her in quietly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

For a moment, he just stared at her.

Then he leaned in, pinched her chin lightly, and muttered with a crooked smirk, "So stubborn."

Without another word, he turned and jumped out the window, disappearing into the night.