Chapter 2 WHISPERS IN THE FOREST

The scream still echoed in Ejike's head as he stumbled into the thicket, guided only by moonlight and foolishness. Leaves whispered things they shouldn't know. The trees leaned closer, as if it's listening or warning.

"Who screams like that in Umuokwe?" he muttered, gripping his raffia belt tighter. "Even ghosts should respect bedtime."

But deep inside him, something stirred. Not fear no, fear was for hunters who entered the forest with machetes and returned without their shadows. This was something older. Something his mother used to whisper about when he was small, rocking him during thunderstorms.

"The forest has ears, Ejike. And once it hears your name, it never forgets."

He pushed through the underbrush, thorns scraping his ankles. Somewhere in the dark, a branch cracked. He paused. Listened. Waited.

Then he saw it.

A figure, crouched by a tree, pale and Shivering. Its back to him.

Ejike hesitated. "Hey! You there! You alright?"

The figure turned slowly.

It was not a person.

Its face was stitched shut where a mouth should be. Its eyes were empty sockets. And yet, somehow, it saw him.

Ejike stepped back.

The thing raised its hand not to attack but to point behind him so he spun and saw nothing

When he turned back, the creature was gone.

Only the imprint in the dirt where it had crouched remained, a single, bloody feather.

Ejike's hands trembled. He picked up the feather. It pulsed warm in his fingers like a living heart.

Then he heard the whisper: soft, chilling, unmistakable.

"Welcome home, son of the betrayed."

Ejike ran.