Sonia's POV
My breath came in shallow, rapid gasps as I huddled in my apartment, too afraid to go outside. The familiar walls now felt like a prison, a fragile, false sense of security after last night's nightmare. I had locked myself in, eyes wide open, heart racing, and every muscle tense. A metal bat and kitchen knife lay in my grip, my only companions against whatever horror might come knocking.
I still couldn't wrap my head around what had happened. It was too fast, too surreal. I killed them, I'm sure of it. I saw the blood, heard the sickening crunch of bone. But they didn't stay down. Could they be spirits? Or demons? Whatever they were, they knew me. They might come for me. I had to be ready.
The silence outside was unnerving, though the compound was usually quiet. I clung to the hope that maybe I had imagined it all, that the alcohol had blurred the lines between reality and nightmare. Slowly, I let my guard down. My eyelids grew heavy. Sleep claimed me.
The sharp, metallic clang of a loud bang jolted me awake. The gate. Someone was pounding on it, hard and relentless. My pulse spiked as I scrambled to my feet and peeked through the window.
The noise drew other tenants out of their flats. I saw Olu, the gateman, step out of his small shack, rubbing his eyes as he walked toward the gate.
"Who be that for this early morning?" Olu barked.
The banging didn't stop. If anything, it grew more urgent.
"Nawa o," sighed one of the tenants, a middle-aged woman standing beside her friend. "Nothing wey we no go see for this street."
I said nothing. My eyes remained glued to the gate. Olu, now closer, peered through the small hole to see who was causing the disturbance.
"Ah ah! Madam, wetin? You wan break gate?" he snapped. "Thank God oga no dey o, your own for don finish."
"Abeg, my brother," came a woman's voice from outside, breathless and desperate. "You fit open gate for me? Please."
"Who be your brother?" Olu asked suspiciously. "I know you? You dey this compound?"
"No, I no dey here. But abeg, help me. I go give you small something."
Olu hesitated, his street instincts kicking in. He stared through the hole for a moment longer, then shrugged and slid the bolt open. The gate creaked as it swung inward.
The woman practically stumbled in, slamming the gate shut behind her. She bent over, panting heavily. Sweat soaked her blouse, and she clutched her purse with trembling fingers.
I studied her from across the yard. Something was off. Her disheveled hair, her frantic eyes darting about as if expecting someone or something to follow. Olu stretched out a hand and accepted the crumpled bills she pulled from her purse.
"See ehn," he said, pocketing the money, "if oga return, you go clear from here sharp-sharp."
The woman gave a weak nod.
"But wetin dey pursue you like dis?" Olu asked, offering her a plastic chair. "You dey breathe like person wey see ghost."
"Omo... my brother," she gasped, still trying to catch her breath. "I dey go market o, na I see dem. A group of people for road, dey waka anyhow. At first, I think say na mad people. But no. Them dey bite people. Just dey attack anybody wey dem see." She wiped her forehead with a shaky hand. "I just run. Run for my life."
Nervous laughter rippled through the onlookers. A few dismissed her story outright.
"Madam, you dey watch too much film," someone chuckled.
Another chimed in, "She just wan enter compound without landlord wahala."
Most of the crowd dispersed, shaking their heads as they returned to their morning routines. Only a handful remained, indulging in idle gossip.
I didn't move. I couldn't. My eyes locked on the woman. Something about her story stirred a deep, cold dread in me. I scanned her body, instinct kicking in. That's when I saw it: a bite mark on her arm.
My breath caught in my throat.
The wound was grotesque, an irregular, jagged circle of torn flesh. Black veins spread outward from it, like poisoned roots beneath her skin. The tissue around the bite had turned a sickly gray.
She scratched at it furiously while continuing her story to Olu, who chuckled like she was telling a wild tale.
But I knew.
This was no joke.
The woman winced suddenly, gripping her arm. Her breathing became labored. Sweat poured down her face.
"Olu," I called out, voice trembling. "Move away from her."
He turned to me, confused. "Why?"
The woman groaned, her body convulsing. She dropped from the chair to her knees. Her eyes rolled back, then snapped open clouded, lifeless. Her jaw unhinged unnaturally, emitting a guttural growl.
"Jesus!" Olu exclaimed, stumbling backward which attracted most of the tenants
"Ah, ah, wetin dey sup?" A young man asked when he saw the strange behaviour of the woman
"This one don dey crase oo" another tenant said with a smirk.
But then, her veins bulged, pulsing with dark tendrils under her skin. Her lips peeled back, revealing teeth stained with blackened saliva. Then she lunged.
Her teeth sank into Olu's neck. Blood sprayed from the wound as he screamed, struggling to push her off. The few remaining neighbors froze in horror.
Surprised!
I didn't wait to watch. I turned and sprinted back to my apartment, slamming the door shut and locking it. My chest heaved as I pressed my back against the wood, gripping my bat and knife like lifelines.
Outside, screams filled the air.
Olu. The neighbors.
One by one.
It was terrifying, what was happening?