Chapter 2: Shadows in the Corridor

I press body for the door, hold breath, peep through the peephole.

My hand dey shake as I dey look. That kind careful peep wey you dey do when you suspect say NEPA go bring light and you dey hope say nobody dey outside. Even my slippers dey make noise, so I shift leg.

The corridor empty—nobody dey.

Corridor long like the road from Oshodi to Mile 2. Light dey shine, but nothing move. E too calm.

I still dey look well well through the peephole, scan everywhere.

My eye dey red. Na so I dey look like say I be CID. Every shadow, I dey watch am. I even dey count the tiles for ground, dey look for anything wey shift.

Then I notice say something no pure.

For my building, the corridor get automatic sensor light—e dey on as long as person dey there.

I remember say the thing dey quick go off if nobody waka. This one still dey on, e no make sense.

From my door, I fit see everywhere for the corridor.

But even though I no see anybody, the sensor light still dey shine.

That one mean say person dey hide for there, just outside where I no fit see.

My mind dey race. Lagos na city of smart criminals. If light no off, person dey there. My back don dey sweat small.

One idea hit me. I quickly off all my light for house, bend down check the space under the door.

For Lagos, e dey good to get sense. I off gen, off bulb. Darkness swallow my parlour.

With my own light off, the corridor light suppose shine pass the gap. But now, na shadow dey block the middle—na only small small light dey enter from the side.

I bend down, almost lie flat for my belle, dey check as if I be rat. My hand dey tremble, but I keep my head clear. Shadow dey. E be like say person squat for outside, try press body make I no see.

Person really dey hide for there! Right now, he squat for my door, just where peephole no dey reach.

I suck in air, chest tight. I dey remember wetin my mama dey always talk—'Anytime your spirit dey warn you, listen.'

Na that time my phone light up. The delivery rider message again: [Why you never pick your food? Problem dey? I fit help you.]

I jump small. My phone vibrate make my hand almost throw am for ground. I dey sweat, but the AC dey blast.

Through the gap, I see the shadow dey move. I even feel say I fit hear the man dey breathe.

The breathing heavy, like person wey run marathon for heat. I fit swear say the air around the door dey hot, like fear dey melt am.

That one confirm am—the bullet comments no lie. Person wey get bad mind dey wait for my door.

I quickly comot from the door, rush enter my room, lock everywhere—door, window, all.

As I dey jam lock, I dey pray small prayer inside, 'God, abeg o, cover me with your blood. Make Holy Ghost fire burn any evil for this compound.' My room dark, curtain draw, mosquito dey buzz. I fit hear my own heart loud.

I grab my phone, ready to call the DPO for our local police station.

The DPO na my uncle friend. I dey hope say him go answer quick—at least make I get small backup.

But before I fit dial finish, another set of bullet comments float for my eye.

The thing dey surprise me. Comments dey waka for air like say na TikTok live and my wahala be the trending gist.

[Ah, the babe don finally use sense, no open door.]

[She even off light to check for murderer shadow—correct!]

[But as the first victim, if she no open door, story no go move.]

[Yes na, after the babe die, the guy go dey pain, then im go begin find how to catch the killer.]

My mind skip. Bad feeling just dey rise for my body.

My belle dey churn. I dey feel as if all the food wey I never chop wan commot for mouth.