Football singularity

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"The elder said she was a schoolteacher," Kwame whispered, his voice trembling as he scanned the shadows dancing on the far wall. "They said she used to wear red heels—click-clack, click-clack—you'd hear them echo down the hallway right before someone disappeared. Some say she was killed by soldiers, others say by her students... but everyone agrees on one thing—when you hear those heels, it means she's coming for you."

He trailed off, his wide eyes darting toward the dark corridor that led deeper into the old schoolhouse.

"Cut that superstitious nonsense," Kosongo snapped, though even his voice carried an edge now. "There are no ghosts in this place, only monsters with guns and hunger."

Kwame didn't look convinced. Neither did Ade, who'd shifted closer to the fire without a word, his eyes locked on the corridor as if daring it to blink first. "She is no ghost, oh no, she is far worse as every place she roams becomes deserted, devoid of the laughter of children."

Sir Michle scoffed at the chatter, unwilling to be creeped out by a bunch of children. "click-clack, click-clack." Just then, they heard a peculiar noise outside the corridor that seemed to get closer by the second. The sound echoed through the schoolhouse like a hammer tapping on the inside of their skulls.

Everyone froze, no one daring to move, as even Rakim and the Imagery Liam turned to face the hallway. Kwame's eyes went wide, the fire casting a flickering orange glow across his face, which now glistened with sweat despite the night air. He didn't dare to blink, didn't breathe.

(Click-clack.) The second it hit the floor again—closer now—Kwame raised his rifle without hesitation, aiming it toward the shadowed hallway. "Lower your weapon," Kosongo said firmly, but even he was getting to his feet, shoulders taut, hand resting on the grip of his own rifle.

"No, no, no, no," Kwame muttered under his breath, voice cracked with dread. "She's real. I heard this sound before… before my older cousin vanished outside a school just like this. They found his shoes and nothing else."

"Relax," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, though I felt the chill too. "It's probably just an echo. A pipe is dripping water. Something rational."

(Click-clack.) Closer still. The noise reverberated with no clear source, as if the walls themselves had decided to play a cruel joke on us. Liam tilted his head, amused. "You sure it's just a pipe, Rakim? Doesn't this remind you of Toby's school shooting?"

The mention of the shooting immediately caused Rakim to glare his way, but Liam merely clutched the back of his head in a carefree manner. "Could be scavengers," Kosongo muttered, but there was no real conviction in his tone. He gestured to Abu, who slowly moved toward one of the broken windows, peering out through the jagged glass into the hallway.

He was unable to see anything, though, causing him to sigh in relief. "There is nothing out here," Abu whispered, but a second later, the same (Click-clack. Click-clack.) noise resounded as a long shadow appeared outside the door.

The moon's light seemed to illuminate the shadow, making it exceptionally long with black tentacles all over its body. The silence in the room was loud, so thick it felt like the walls were holding their breath. Even the fire popped once and went quiet, the embers sinking low. Then, just as suddenly, Sir Michle bumped into an old wooden desk, toppling it over with a thunderous crash.

Everyone jumped, even whatever was outside. Kwame let out a sharp cry and pulled the trigger. The rifle exploded with sound, muzzle flashes lighting up the hallway just outside the entryway like strobe lights in a haunted house. (RATATATATAT) The bullets tore through plaster and brick, ricocheting off stone. Dust and shards rained down as screams and curses erupted around the fire.

"Cease fire!" Kosongo barked, grabbing the barrel and jerking it upward, but Kwame was already shaking, wide-eyed, his weapon clattering from his hands to the floor.

Sir Michle was halfway to the opposite corner of the room, crouching low behind a pile of broken chairs. "You maniacs! You'll bring the whole damn roof down!"

"What did you see?!" Kosongo snapped.

Kwame just shook his head, breath stuttering. "It was—her silhouette. I swear. In the red heels. And eyes. White. Glowing."

No one spoke, not because we believed it, but because none of us could say we didn't hear it too. "You know," Liam said beside me, utterly calm in his blazer like this was all part of the plan, "this would be the perfect time for the hero to stand up and say something brave. Something leader-like."

Ignoring him, I watched as Abu carefully sneaked to the door under everyone's cautious gaze. He slowly peeked around the entryway, scanning the area that was now riddled with bullet holes. He seemed shocked for a moment before he dared to walk out and face whatever it was.

He disappeared to the left, unsettling everyone in the room, and in the next second, a loud, horrified shriek resounded. "ARGHH," Abu exclaimed, causing everyone to jump to their feet in shock, clutching their weapons.

Abu fell backwards, appearing in full view of everyone who was craning their necks to see what was troubling him. Blood could be seen staining his sleeves with some splattered on his face, putting everyone on edge as he twisted with groans on the floor, overwhelmed by pain. "Puhhaha, you should see your faces," he exclaimed just as loudly, as he suddenly stopped, sitting up on the ground, as if nothing had happened.

"If you could've seen yourselves—Kwame's eyes were bugging out like a cartoon!" Abu wheezed through his laughter, gripping his stomach.

Kosongo's glare could've cut steel. "You think this is funny?" he growled, stepping forward. "You think pretending to be attacked when we're being hunted, when anything out there could've heard—"

"Yeah, yeah, the only thing hunting us is this rat," he interrupted his nagging, holding up a long rat tail. "Well, what's left of it?"

(broohg,) Sirmichle immediately barfed out the contents of his stomach as he saw the grotesque mess of asking and body organs hanging at the end of the rat tail. "Kwame, the only thing you hit was Ratatui."

"Hahaha, you almost pissed your pants over a rat," Liam exclaimed, holding his stomach in laughter as he floated around Rakim.

Kwame glared at Abu, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he snatched his rifle from the floor. "Next time you scream like that, I'm shooting first and asking questions never," he muttered, avoiding everyone's gaze.

Abu only laughed harder, slapping his knee. "Man, you can never act tough in front of me again."

"You're an idiot," Kosongo snapped. "And a lucky one. If you'd done that ten clicks closer to enemy territory, we'd be dead."

"We're all gonna die young anyway, so what's the big deal?" Abu replied in a much more sombre tone, the amusement gone from his facial features, as he glared at Kosongo. "You know I've been wondering for a while why you're trying to cosy up to Kofi? The last guy got killed over a mistake that was all his fault."

The atmosphere suddenly turned dangerous as Abu glared at Sir Michle, who was gulping water, trying to wash away the taste of vomit. Kosongo didn't respond right away as he scanned the other two boys, who were now paying attention, subconsciously clutching their guns. "We all have a role to play, just do yours."

"You're right, Ko, let's all remember to stick to our roles. Ade already died for this guy, don't expect any heroics for this guy's sake." Abu replied, facing the older boy without a hint of fear as he walked towards him. "You know, I always thought that Omar's death was a little suspicious, you were the last with him, care to comment?"

Kosongo's jaw flexed, his eyes narrowing as he stepped forward, the air between them thick with tension. The fire cast their shadows, illuminating their standoff as they stood just a meter apart. "That's enough," Kosongo said, voice low but edged with steel. "You don't get to question my orders, Kofi put me in charge. You start tossing blame about Omar without proof—next time, I'll put two rounds in your chest and there won't be any debate that Kosongo did it."

Abu didn't flinch despite having to look up at the latter. "Who's blaming you? Im just making conversation giving us something to think about. You they say about an idle mind? Don't want any of the two getting any ideas."

He nonchalantly responded, brushing past the older boy as he walked towards where he had set up his sleeping area. Without a care at the awkward situation he had created he used his water pouch to clean the rat blood for his face and sat down to rest. Kosong tried to play it off as if he had everything under control, but the suspicious glare Kwame gave him unsettled him.

That's without mentioning the green cat-like eyes of Rakim that locked onto him like a tiger that had just realised an antelope was chilling within its midst.

"Damn," Liam whispered beside me, stretching lazily as if he were lying on a beach chair rather than sitting on a stone slab in a haunted schoolhouse in the middle of a warzone. "The ploy thikens. You've got betrayal, paranoia, ghost stories, rat guts—just missing a love triangle and we've got ourselves a Netflix deal."

I didn't answer. My eyes were still on Kosongo, who had barely moved since Abu lay down. But they could all see it in his reaction, the paranoid way his fingers ghosted near his rifle out of habit. Control was slipping, and he was on the edge of panicking affirming that what Abu insuniated was probably true.

Liam's chuckle grated on my nerves. "What's the plan, Rex? You're gonna keep sitting there like a movie extra while the camp unravels around you?"

I exhaled slowly, resting my head against the cold stone wall behind me. "You really think any of them would follow me? Plus what do I care if it all emplodes, didn't you hear Abu our days are numbered over here" I whispered, mostly to myself.

Liam shrugged. "They followed you before, I followed you before. When we were twelve, you convinced six kids to skip sportsday drill and raid the mess hall at Red Oak, remember? We got caught, but those cookies never tasted so good."

"Don't worry bro things are already in motion," I muttered.

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To be Continued...