Life is collectively referred to as a dark fantasy, although many of us attempt incorporating ideas in our head, searching for ways to escape reality. I for one believe anything that can befriend you, can kill.

Every creature has a dark side but mine doesn't have my best interests at heart, I mumble short prayers, locking all the doors and windows shut.

Every step I took upstairs, made the wooden stairs creek, I keep having this feeling am been followed but every time I look back, am left with goosebumps and my head increasing in size.

I swallowed an imaginary saliva down my throat and continue walking up slowly otherwise I will freak out and run upstairs, that will mess up my night.

If you know anything about darkness, you'll know it leaves no room for the weakest heart. This foreign presence happens whenever am home alone, I made a research on the life beyond and discovered that the level of one's fear determines how far we're willing to let the darkness in.

I gently crawl under the duvet and sleep on my right side facing the door, my heartbeat was accelerating, you could hear every beat of it. 2,3,4 minutes later, the gruesome feeling was gone and I accidentally took a nap that lasted for two minutes until my ears picked a creaking footstep 👣 approaching in the direction of my room, dragging a metal object on the wall,  I froze on the bed.

I searched for my phone under the duvet and my eyes found it far on the table which was close to the door, this wasn't a normal circumstance so,  my mind is blank.

"Do you wanna play", the voice said, sounding distant but very  near. That was when I remembered all the short phrases used in horror movies, I stupidly find myself screaming them one by one.

Is anyone out there?

"Who the hell are you?"

Show yourself coward.

"What do you want from me?"

The noise died down and just when I thought it's over, the door to my room was kicked open with full force.

[Glimpse from the book👇👇👇]

"You're avoiding the topic, he is not a regular fuck boy you know?

"You don't need to pretend, Zoya!" Logan shouted over the radio noise.

Zoya's heart ached as she tucked in her lips, wishing she could turn back time to when she was a teenager. She was baffled by how the only man she had ever loved could cause her such heartbreak, one that couldn't be diagnosed under an X-ray machine.

In the past ten years, Zoya had invested her time and emotions into the marriage, neglecting her own needs and desires.

Her parents had never supported her relationship with Logan, advising her to focus on her studies when she was just 16. But she had threatened to run away, using her status as an only child to force them to accept her early marriage.

After graduating high school, Logan convinced her to become a full-time housewife. Initially, the marriage was perfect, with Logan taking her on dates, shopping sprees, and vacations. He swept her off her feet, and she abandoned her plans for further education.

However, as Logan became a successful business tycoon, their time together became limited. Whenever she complained about his late nights, he would wrap his arms around her and give her a gentle squeeze, silencing her protests.

Now, Zoya felt a tiny bump in her stomach, followed by a sour pain, but she remained silent. "I can go on a three-month trip," she bargained, her voice discreet but frail.

Logan's response was a dirty smirk, and he leaned forward, staring deeply into her eyes. "My sweet pretensions, Zoya, I don't need you to think for me or go on a vacation."

Zoya felt rejection crawling into her shattered heart, wondering if their love boat had crashed long ago. She remembered her father's fury ten years ago, her mother's attempts to pacify him, and how her father had blocked all communications with her after the wedding.

"Can't you give us a try?" she asked, her voice sounding like a plea.

Logan's lips moved closer to her ears, his words barely audible. "Taste changes, people move on." He shrugged expressively, and Zoya saw his mouth move but couldn't hear properly due to her own emotional deafness.

She crawled on the floor, begging him not to end their marriage, desperate to save it. Logan stepped on her hands, grinding on them in circles, and Zoya swallowed the pain.

He stumbled back, spat on her injured hand, and threw divorce papers on her lap. "It's over, Zoya. Keep the house; I don't want to be stuck in the disgusting memories you've forced on me over the years. Sign that, and I'll have someone collect it in the morning."

With that, Logan turned and walked out of the house, leaving Zoya shattered and alone.

[Naimah Flashback]

The test results revealed an alarming truth: she had been overdosed on a black-market contraceptive pill.

[END OF FLASHBACK]

As the flashback ended, Naimah accidentally spilled juice on her skirt. Excusing herself from the dining table, she headed to the female bathroom to clean up the stain. However, she halted at the male bathroom door when she overheard two familiar voices:

Voice 1: "Here, it's specially made for her, different from the last one I brought. Mix it in her coffee drink, and she'll never know. All we need to do is wait patiently for her to start hallucinating and showing signs of paralysis before sending her to a psychiatric hospital to die."

Voice 2: "I can't wait for her to die, so her inheritance and company shares will be ours..."

Voice 1: "You're not eager to be with me..."

Voice 2: "You're everything I ever needed..."

The voices continued, accompanied by the sound of kissing. Naimah was grateful to have her phone with her, and she discreetly recorded the conversation instead of crying out and risking discovery.

She abandoned her plan to clean up the stain and returned to the table, pretending nothing had happened. "What next?" she thought to herself, her mind racing with the sinister plot she had just uncovered.