Part 1

Growing up, I always heard the same warning:

“Don’t go out late, it’s not safe.” Especially if you’re a girl.

I heard it from my parents, aunties, even older girls in the neighborhood. And they weren’t joking. They said it like they knew something. They’d say:

“Being outside too late is already bad. But being a girl? It makes it worse.”

They never really explained what “worse” meant. Sometimes it sounded like crime. Other times… something else. But I listened. I stayed in. I wasn’t trying to find out what they meant.

Then I left home for university.

Everything felt different. Here, people went out late all the time. Like it was normal. Girls, guys — they’d go clubbing, partying, walking the streets at midnight like it was nothing.

Nothing bad seemed to happen.

I started to think maybe all those warnings were just fear talking. Old habits from people who grew up in different times. So when my friends invited me to celebrate after exams, a night out just to relax, I said yes.

That night still haunts me.

There were five of us: me, Rina, Amina, Jo, and Feyi. We didn’t even go far, just a lounge near campus. We danced a little, ate, took pictures, laughed. It was the first time in weeks we felt light.

We left around 2 AM. It was late. We knew. But we weren’t drunk or careless, just tired and ready to go back.

That’s when we noticed them.

At first, it didn’t seem like anything. Just three guys walking behind us. The street was mostly empty, so we could hear everything except… we didn’t hear them. No footsteps. No voices. Just… presence.

Rina glanced back and slowed her steps. “Guys,” she said quietly, “don’t panic. But I think those guys are following us.”

We brushed it off. “They’re probably just going our way.” But when we turned right… so did they.

We crossed the street. They crossed too.

Now we were panicking, even if no one said it out loud. We walked faster. Then started to jog. We turned down a shortcut alley to lose them.

That’s when we saw two more men at the other end.

They weren’t moving. Just standing. One of them had his head tilted back like he was sniffing the air.

That’s when it clicked.

This wasn’t just “guys being creepy.” This was something else.

We turned to run back, and the original three were already at the entrance of the alley. Still silent. Still watching.

Then one of them raised his hand. He had something long and shiny. It wasn’t a knife. It looked like a saw.

I’ve never screamed that loud in my life. We all did — screaming, begging, calling for help.

And then, out of nowhere:

“Hey! What’s going on there?!”

A flashlight. A voice. A man in a police uniform walked up. We ran to him, shaking, sobbing, explaining. But when we turned to point at the men…

They were gone.

Not walking away. Not hiding. Just gone.

The officer didn’t seem to believe us. Said we probably imagined it, or that maybe someone was trying to mess with us. But he gave us a ride back to campus.

He told us again:

“This is why it’s not safe to be out late.”

That should’ve been the end of it. But it wasn’t.

When I got back to my hostel, Rina stayed over in my room because we were too scared to sleep alone. We locked the door. Blocked it with a chair. I closed my curtain, but not fully—just enough to peek out.

And I swear on everything…

They were there.

Three figures. Right across the street. Standing still. Watching.

Not moving. Not saying anything. Just… watching.

I called Rina over. She saw them too. We shut the curtain, turned on the lights, and sat up till morning.

The next day, we all met up and talked. Every single one of us saw them that night. From our different rooms. Different buildings.

They were outside. Watching.

We made a silent agreement after that. No more going out late. No matter what.

Even now, if it’s getting dark and I’m walking home, I feel it. That prickly feeling in the back of my neck. Like I’m being followed.

Like I’m being watched.

I should’ve listened.

They were right.

I spent the next few weeks trying to convince myself that it was just paranoia. That maybe we had been overreacting. But every time the sun dipped below the horizon, that feeling returned—the sensation that something was lurking just beyond the light.

One evening, as I was walking home from class, the feeling hit again. I tried to shake it off, but it wouldn’t leave me. My heart began to race, my footsteps quickening. I could almost hear them—those footsteps behind me. But when I turned around, there was no one there.

I paused, catching my breath. It was stupid. I had to be imagining things. I had to stop thinking about the figures. They weren’t real. Or at least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.

But when I reached my building, I saw them. Not far from the entrance. Three men. Standing still. Watching.

This time, they didn’t even try to follow me. They just stood there, as if they were waiting for something.

I froze, my chest tightening, as the world around me seemed to shrink. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I jumped, startled, and pulled it out.

It was a text from Rina: “I see them too. They’re at the corner of the street.”

I didn’t know what to do. There was no escape. They were everywhere. Watching. Waiting. It wasn’t paranoia anymore. It was real.

That was when I realized: something had changed. This wasn’t just about some creepy guys following us anymore. This was a warning. A warning that I hadn’t heeded in time. A warning that they were waiting for me to make a mistake.

I called Rina immediately. “They’re here, too. What do we do?”

“Don’t move,” she said urgently. “I’m calling the cops.”

I turned to look at the figures across the street. One of them was smiling. A twisted grin, full of malice. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

Then I heard a voice behind me. “Hey, you. Are you alright?”

I spun around, and there he was—an officer in uniform. His presence was like a tether to the real world.

“I—I don’t know,” I stammered. “They’re here. The men. They’ve been following me.”

The officer raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure?”

“I swear. They’ve been watching me. They’ve been following us for weeks.”

He gave me a reassuring nod. “Okay, stay calm. We’re going to sort this out. Stay here.”

As the officer radioed for backup, I looked at the men again. They were still standing there, unmoving. But this time, something was different. The air felt heavier, charged with something dark, something sinister.

The backup arrived quickly. The officers surrounded the area, asking questions and scanning the crowd for the figures. But by the time they got there… the men were gone.

Just like before. Vanished. Gone.

The Truth Unfolds

It was days before I could shake the feeling of being followed. Every time I stepped out, I’d check my surroundings—more paranoid than ever, but for a good reason. Something was off. The disappearance of the men, the strange feeling that I was being watched—it wasn’t a coincidence. It was deliberate.

I couldn’t let it go. Not anymore.

I started investigating on my own. I dug into old police records, spoke to people in the neighborhood, asking questions about missing persons or strange occurrences. And then I found something.

A string of disappearances. The same alleyway. The same men, reappearing from time to time. The stories were chilling, their details sparse but consistent. The police hadn’t made much headway—just brushed it off as mischief or people overreacting. But this felt different. It was too real. Too connected.

I shared what I found with Rina. She was shocked. “This is insane, Alina. We have to tell the police.”

“Not yet,” I said, my voice shaking. “I need to know more. I need to understand what they want.”

We went out again that night, both of us armed with our phones and a plan. We’d keep our distance, but we wouldn’t let them slip by unnoticed.

And this time, I wasn’t going to let them disappear again.

Part 2

That night, I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing with thoughts of the figures in the streets, the weird sense of dread that had followed me for weeks. I had to know more, even if it meant putting myself in danger. The truth had to come out. And I wasn’t about to let those men keep following us without knowing why.

Rina and I made plans for the next night. We decided to go back to the alley where we had first seen them, the place where everything had started. It was risky, but I had to know if we were just imagining things or if something more sinister was at play.

We both agreed on the importance of remaining calm. We would walk the same route, but this time, we’d make sure we were prepared—phones in hand, eyes open, and ready to call for help if anything happened.

As dusk fell, we stood at the edge of the alley, peering into the dimly lit street. The air was thick with the scent of dust and something faintly metallic, like the smell of old iron. My heartbeat quickened as the tension built between us. The street was unusually quiet for that time of night, no cars, no other pedestrians. Just silence.

“Do you feel it?” Rina asked quietly, her voice strained.

“Yeah,” I whispered, “I feel like we’re not alone.”

We stepped into the alley, walking slowly, keeping our steps as silent as possible. I glanced over at Rina, who kept her gaze straight ahead, her expression taut.

Suddenly, I felt it—the unmistakable feeling of being watched. My heart pounded, and I stopped in my tracks.

“They’re here,” I said, my voice low.

Rina turned to me, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “I’m positive.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shadows moving. I didn’t want to look, but I had to. And there they were. The same three figures from before, standing at the far end of the alley. They didn’t move. They just stood there, like statues, their eyes fixed on us.

“Stay calm,” I whispered to Rina. “We need to get closer.”

We continued to walk toward them, but I knew it was too late to turn back. As we neared, the figures stepped forward. Their movements were slow, deliberate. I could hear their footsteps now, the faint shuffle of their feet against the concrete.

One of them raised his hand, and I saw it clearly this time. It wasn’t a saw, as I had first thought. It was something worse—something that gleamed in the low light. A weapon of some kind.

I felt the panic rising in my chest. This wasn’t a game anymore.

Suddenly, one of the figures lunged at us. I froze, but Rina shoved me out of the way just in time. We scrambled back, hearts racing. I could hear Rina’s breathing, erratic, behind me.

“Run!” she screamed, and we both bolted, turning and darting down the alley.

I could hear them behind us, chasing us down, but we didn’t dare look back. We had to get out of there.

Just as we reached the end of the alley, I saw it—a figure ahead of us, blocking the street. Another one of them. This time, I could see his face—a twisted, inhuman grin stretched across his face. My blood turned to ice.

But then, something happened.

A flash of light.

A voice.

“Stop right there!”

A police officer.

I didn’t even hesitate. I grabbed Rina’s hand and ran toward the officer, shouting for help. The officer reached for his radio, yelling for backup, and we ran to him, our hearts pounding.

“Get down!” he yelled at us as the men behind us stopped dead in their tracks.

The figures stood still, watching us, but not moving. They just stood there, like shadows in the dark.

“What the hell is going on?” the officer muttered under his breath as he checked his gun, still pointed at the figures.

I tried to explain everything—how we’d seen them, how they had been following us for weeks, but the officer didn’t seem to believe us. He shook his head, clearly thinking we were just scared or imagining things. “You need to go home. This is nothing.”

But I didn’t buy it. I knew something was off. And when the officer looked away for just a second, I turned back to the alley. The figures were gone. Not walking away, not hiding behind anything, just… gone.

The next day, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The officer hadn’t believed us, and part of me wondered if we were just imagining it. But the truth was—none of us had been mistaken. Those figures, whatever they were, were real.

Rina and I met later that day to talk. We had decided that we wouldn’t let it go. We needed answers.

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for them to come after us again,” I said, feeling determined. “We need to figure out who these people are and what they want.”

Rina nodded, her jaw set in determination. “I’ve been doing some digging,” she said. “And I think I found something. There have been other reports, similar to ours. People going missing, or being followed, or disappearing without a trace.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, similar?”

Rina pulled out her phone and showed me an old police report. It had been filed two years ago, detailing a strange group of people that had been spotted around the same area, and the same time we saw the figures. There were even whispers about a cult operating in the city, people going missing without explanation.

“I think these people have been targeting women,” Rina said, “and now they’ve come after us.”

My heart sank as the reality of the situation hit me. This wasn’t just about creepy men following us. This was something much darker.

“I think we need to go to the police again,” I said. “We can’t let them get away with this.”

But Rina shook her head. “The police won’t do anything. They didn’t believe us the first time. We need to take this into our own hands.”

And that’s exactly what we did. We started gathering information—anything we could find that connected these strange disappearances, these figures, to something bigger.

We dug deeper into the reports, spoke to people who had witnessed strange events in the neighborhood, and uncovered something chilling. The men weren’t just random criminals. They were part of a larger group—one that operated in the shadows, preying on vulnerable people.

As the days passed, I could feel the weight of what we were uncovering. But there was no going back now.

I wasn’t going to let these men win. I wasn’t going to let them take me or anyone else.

End!