Survivor's guilt gripped Nze, an unshakable weight pressing against his chest as he stared at the empty seats in the classroom. The police had come and gone, leaving only a heavy silence, thick with fear and unanswered questions. Holy Cross College, once alive with the carefree laughter of teenagers, now felt like a fortress under siege.

That Wednesday night haunted Nze. While others faced their fate in the dark, he had been slipping through the shadows to meet Bee—sweet, elusive Bee, now vanished like smoke, along with Spacko.

The coincidence made his stomach churn. Two more missing, including Spacko, the golden boy with the black Range Rover and unlimited cash flow. His absence was louder than anything he'd ever said. Five others were in the hospital, their bodies marked by something that looked like a fever dream of wolves on steroids.

And Nze? Well, Nze was trying not to spiral. It was the claw marks on his ankle that did it. Because it wasn't just his dreams anymore—the ones with sharp teeth and glowing eyes. Those dreams had clawed their way into the real world. And now, it was hard to tell which was scarier: the scratches on his skin or the gnawing feeling that everything he'd been trying to forget was actually true.

"The beasts," people whispered. Nobody knew exactly what they were, but everyone had a theory. Some said they were ritual killers shapeshifting into animals to taste blood at night, others claimed they were wild creatures that stalked the streets after sunset. Whatever they were, they had turned St. Leo into a hunting ground.

"This isn't a prison," Provost Ezeh had said. "But these rules are your lifeline. Four o'clock is the cutoff. Miss it by a minute, and the gates will stay locked. No exceptions."

The new reality hit harder when security guards installed additional locks on the gates and maintenance workers began mounting extra floodlights around the school perimeter. Holy Cross was transforming into a fortress, but Nze wondered if any fortress could truly keep out what he had seen that night.

His phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: "Miss me? -B"

Nze's hands trembled as he stared at the screen. The same initial, the same cryptic style. But was it really Bee? And if it was, why did the thought of seeing her again fill him with such terrible dread and ...joy?

Outside his classroom window, the sun was already beginning its descent. In a few hours, darkness and fog would reclaim the streets. Nze glanced back at his phone. The cursor blinked in the reply box, waiting.

He knew he should report the message to the police. They were still investigating, after all. But something held him back – the same reckless curiosity that had driven him to meet Bee that fateful night. As he typed his response, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, not by the security cameras newly installed in every corridor, but by something else. Something that had developed a taste for St. Leo locals and wasn't finished feeding yet.

"Where have you been?" he typed, then added: "Are you safe?"

The response came instantly: "Come find out. Same place. Tonight."

Nze stared at the message until his screen went dark, reflecting his own troubled face back at him. The smart thing would be to stay within the safety of the school's new curfew. But as the final lecture ended and students hurried to leave and finish whatever they needed to outside school premises before the four o'clock deadline, he knew he would go. Not because he wasn't afraid – he was terrified – but because he needed answers.

As he gathered his courage to leave, Iza and Pico intercepted him at the dormitory entrance. Iza's eyes narrowed with suspicion – she had known him for barely a week, yet she could read him like a worn paperback.

"Where are you going?" Iza demanded, her voice tight with concern. "You know about the curfew."

"Library," Nze lied smoothly, though his heart hammered against his ribs. "Got to finish that History assignment."

Iza's gaze lingered on his face, and he knew she wasn't buying it. In less than seven days, she had become more than a classmate – she was like the sister he never had, which made lying to her feel like swallowing broken glass. But he couldn't tell her the truth. She wouldn't understand.

"The library closes in an hour," Pico pointed out, checking his watch. "You sure that's enough time?"

"I'll manage," Nze replied, already pushing past them. "Don't worry about me."

Back in his dorm, Nze changed quickly, splashing cold water on his face like it might rinse away the unease clinging to him. The mirror offered back a version of himself he barely recognized—haunted eyes, dark circles etched beneath them, the unmistakable badge of sleepless nights spent rerunning Wednesday's events like a broken record.

The forest path seemed different now. Yesterday, when he'd come searching for any sign of Bee, it had been quiet, empty – just another patch of woods at the edge of St. Phillips Road. But this evening, the trees seemed to lean inward, their branches reaching like gnarled fingers. The map Bee had given him that Wednesday night was unnecessary now; his feet remembered the way, carrying him deeper into the growing darkness.

Every snapping twig made him jump. Every rustle of leaves could be them – Nyamekye's jaguars or Arthur's leopards. Or it could be Bee, waiting in the shadows. Or maybe, most terrifying of all, it could be nothing: just another dead end in his search for answers, leaving him alone with his guilt and questions.

"Please be you," he whispered into the gathering misty dusk, his phone clutched in his sweating palm. "Please be real, Bee."

The forest devoured his words, responding with nothing but silence.

As the last rays of sunlight retreated from the canopy above, Nze couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into a trap – one he had set for himself.

The forest seemed different in the deepening twilight, shadows stretching like ink spills across the ground. Nze's phone glowed accusingly: 4:45 PM. Way past curfew, way past safe. The fog was rolling in, thick and otherworldly, but he barely noticed it anymore. His mind was too busy crafting explanations for his uncle, in case he needed to go home, each one flimsier than the last.

Then her voice cut through the silence, playful and dangerous as a cat's purr: "You like me that much to risk your life, huh?"

Despite his startled flinch, Nze managed a crooked smile. "Maybe I just have terrible survival instincts."

And there she was – Bee, materializing from the mist like a punk rock fever dream. Her ripped jeans looked more like shredded art, climbing so high they might as well have been shorts. The crop top tank revealed a constellation of tattoos that seemed to shift and dance in the dying light. She moved toward him with that hypnotic sway, hands mysteriously behind her back, and that scent – God, that scent – hit him again, like sweat and midnight air.

"Terrible survival instincts?" Bee tilted her head up at him, close enough now that he could see the golden flecks in her honey-brown eyes. "I'd say they're pretty sharp. You're still breathing, aren't you?"

"For now." Nze tried to peek behind her back. "What are you hiding?"

She pirouetted away from his attempt, laughing. "Curious boy. Always wanting to know everything. Maybe that's what I like about you. Or maybe it's what's going to get you killed."

"You disappeared for days," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "People are dead, Bee. Others are missing. Including Spacko."

"Spacko?" She wrinkled her nose as if the name tasted bad. "That loud boy who thinks he's funny? Trust me, he's exactly where he needs to be."

The casual way she said it sent ice through Nze's veins, but her eyes held him like a spell. She stepped closer again, free hand trailing up his arm.

"You're shivering," she observed, smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Is it the cold... or is it me?"

"Depends," he managed. "Are you going to tell me what's behind your back?"

"Oh, this?" She brought one hand forward, empty. "Nothing there."

"And the other one?"

Bee's smile widened. "Come closer and find out."

Nze knew he should run. Everything about this screamed danger – the fog, the approaching darkness, her cryptic words about Spacko. But instead, he found himself stepping forward, drawn like a moth to her flame.

"That's it," she cooed. "You know what they say about curiosity and cats, don't you, Nze?"

"Yeah," he breathed, now close enough to count her eyelashes. "But satisfaction brought it back."

She laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Now that," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear, "is a common misconception. Want to know how that story really ends?"

Behind them, something moved in the undergrowth. Something big. Bee's smile never wavered.

A rabbit burst from the undergrowth, breaking the tension, and Bee's second hand emerged – empty. The relief that flooded through Nze made him slightly dizzy, and Bee's laughter rang through the misty air like wind chimes in a storm.

"Why so scared?" she asked, laughter still dancing in her eyes.

"I—uh—" Nze faltered, his voice catching like a splinter in his throat.

Her laughter faded, replaced by an earnest intensity that made his heart skip. "I would never hurt you." The sincerity in her voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket, and something tight in his chest began to unwind.

With fear giving way to curiosity, the questions he'd been holding back spilled out like water from a broken dam. "What are you, Bee? Really?" He took a breath, then plunged ahead. "I saw you that night. You... you changed. Into a leopard. Your brother too. All the other Skyfall members. And then Nyamekye—"

The words died in his throat as she grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down to her level. Her lips met his with an urgency that scattered his thoughts like harmattan leaves in a windstorm. The kiss was electric, primal – everything he'd imagined and nothing like he'd expected. It tasted of midnight and wild things, of secrets and promises.

She walked him backward, never breaking the kiss, until his heel caught on a root and he fell. She followed him down, straddling him as dead leaves crackled beneath them. The forest floor was damp against his back, but all he could focus on was the weight of her, the warmth of her, the intoxicating reality of her.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes seemed to glow in the gathering darkness. "I might not see you for a while," she whispered, her words carrying the weight of goodbye. "But if we meet again..." She traced a finger along his jaw, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Before he could protest, she claimed his lips once more – a kiss that felt like a seal on an unspoken pact. Then she was gone, rolling off him in one fluid motion, her form dissolving into the mist like morning dew under a hot sun.

Nze lay there for a long moment, leaves in his hair, heart thundering in his chest, the taste of her still on his lips. The fog swirled around him, erasing any trace that she had ever been there at all. But he knew – the way his body hummed with lingering electricity, the way his mind spun with even more questions than before – that it hadn't been a dream.

He touched his lips, still feeling the ghost of her kiss, and wondered if discovering the truth about Bee would be worth the price he might have to pay.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚

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