The shadow in the dark part 1 - by The Silent Pen 🖊

<img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/8BB36EC2-716E-486A-8E6F-EFFF21B8CAC3.png" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"/>It was one of those damp Ajegunle nights when the cold seemed to crawl under your skin instead of touching it. The kind of night that made even stray dogs disappear from the streets.Bimbo dragged herself through the rusty gate of the face-me-i-face-you compound she shared with her best friend, Sola. Her slippers slapped weakly against the wet concrete floor as she walked past rows of doors and hanging clothes that danced lazily in the wind.Usually, the compound was alive.Too alive.Mama Deji would be outside pounding yam with enough force to wake the dead. Children would be chasing each other barefoot, screaming like tiny demons. Somebody’s radio would be blasting Fuji music from one corner while two neighbors argued over whose turn it was to fetch water. But tonight… Nothing.No radio.No generator hum.No gossip. No voices. Just silence. Not normal silence. The kind of silence that felt intentional. Bimbo paused halfway to her room. Her brows tightened. She checked her phone. 8:32 PM. Impossible. Even NEPA outages couldn’t make the compound this dead. A strange uneasiness settled in her chest, but exhaustion swallowed her fear. She entered the room, locked the door behind her, and dropped her bag carelessly beside the bed. “Sola better not stay too long in Ibadan,” she muttered. The room suddenly felt too small without her roommate. Too empty. Bimbo lay down for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling fan that wasn’t moving. Sleep began pulling at her eyes when she noticed something else. No mosquitoes. In Ajegunle? That alone should have warned her. Frowning, she sat up slowly. The silence outside had somehow become louder. It pressed against her ears. Heavy. Breathing.Alive. Trying to shake off the strange feeling, she stood up and walked toward the window. Maybe fresh air would help. Her fingers gripped the faded curtain. And then she pulled it aside. At first, she didn’t understand what she was looking at. The compound was full of people. All the neighbors were outside. Standing perfectly still. Mama Deji. Old man Akin. The twins from Room 7. Even the landlord, that is never around.They stood in the middle of the compound shoulder to shoulder… motionless. Their heads tilted upward. As if staring at something above the building. Bimbo’s throat tightened. None of them moved. None of them blinked. Then slowly… Every single head turned toward her window at the exact same time. Bimbo froze. Twenty pairs of eyes locked onto hers. Eyes that looked too dark. Too empty. Then Mama Deji smiled. A wide smile. Too wide for a human face. And in a voice that sounded like many people speaking together, she whispered: “You shouldn’t have come home tonight.” The bulb in Bimbo’s room exploded. Darkness swallowed everything. Then came a knock on her door. Slow. Deliberate. Kpom. Kpom. Kpom. Bimbo stumbled backward, her heart slamming against her ribs. Another knock. This time louder. KPOm. KPOm. KPOm. Then Sola’s voice came from outside. Soft. Shaky. “Bimbo… open the door… please…” Bimbo’s eyes widened. That was impossible. Sola was in Ibadan. The voice came again. Closer now. “Bimbo…” A long pause followed. Then the voice changed. Deeper. Wet. Inhuman. “We saw you looking.” Tune in for part 2. See you soon

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