Adrian and Lex made their way to Naya's to go tell the girls of their finding. On arrival the girls gave them highlightsof their occurrence.
The air at Naya's place felt heavier after the Tasha call. No one spoke for a few seconds, the jar sitting between them like a living thing,silent, yet pulsing with presence. It hadn't glowed since the gust of wind had brushed through the room, but something about it had changed. It now seemed aware.
Lex and Adrian sat stiffly on the edge of Naya's couch, eyes darting between the the women gathered in front of them. Naya's living room was dimly lit, the jar tucked in its usual corner,still, but humming faintly like it knew it was being talked about.
Sienna spoke first. "We need to tell you something."
Naya nodded, her fingers laced tightly in her lap. "We tested the jar… with distance."
Lex frowned. "Distance?"
"We added Tasha's name," Naya chimed in. "Just to see how far the jar's influence could reach."
"Tasha?" Adrian sat forward. "The friend who moved after her wedding?"
"Yes," Naya confirmed. "We didn't think anything would happen. But a day later, she called us terrified. Nightmares, whispers, power surges. She even saw something written on her mirror."
Lex's face paled. "That's not just coincidence."
Sienna added quietly, "She didn't even know we added her name. We hadn't told her yet."
"And now she's in it," Sasha whispered. "Whether we meant to or not."
A long silence fell.
Lex sat back in his chair, arms crossed, his brow furrowed in thought. Adrian nudged him lightly with his shoulder.
"You've been weird since the highlights. Out with it."
Lex didn't respond immediately. He looked at the jar again, then at each of the women in the room, eyes lingering a moment longer on Sasha. Finally, he exhaled.
"There's something I never told you guys," he began. "Before my dad passed, he used to take me to visit his aunt in the old town—Mapatano. Tiny place, almost forgotten. There was this broken-down chapel near the forest line. Locals called it 'Kanisa la Mabibi wa Usiku',The Chapel of the Ladies of the night."
Alani sat up. "Why?"
"Because," Lex said, voice low, "it's where they said women who practiced *uchawi wa kivuli*—shadow witchcraft—used to gather. A coven. Powerful. Feared. Some say betrayed."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "You think it's connected to the jar?"
Lex nodded slowly. "There's a legend about a sisterhood that was hunted down. Not all of them were captured. They hid their power inside an object. Something handmade. Clay. Sealed with blood. Buried beneath that chapel before it was burned."
Everyone looked at the jar again.
"Blood remembers... so does the jar," Sasha whispered. "What if this isn't just a curse... but a legacy?"
Sasha stood up and walked toward the jar. Her voice was barely audible. "It found us… or we awakened it."
Then Lex stood slowly, looking toward the jar. "We need to act fast. Whatever this is… it's spreading."
Meanwhile, miles away, Tasha was staring at her living room mirror. Her reflection was still. Too still. The rest of the house was dark, save for a single flickering bulb in the hallway.
Behind her, faint whispers rose again.
This time, they came with a smell,earth and ash.
She turned sharply, clutching her phone.
Nothing.
But the wall behind her had changed. A mark had appeared. A symbol she had never seen before, drawn in what looked like soot. A circle, with three crescent moons facing outward.
She gasped.
Back at Naya's, Alani turned to Lex.
"We need to go there."
"To the chapel?" Lex asked.
"Yes. We need answers. If this is really tied to that coven, maybe there's something left behind. A record, a name—anything that tells us what we're carrying."
Naya nodded. "We go this weekend."
Sasha phone buzzed. It was Tasha again.
Tasha (voice note): "It's getting worse. I'm seeing things. Hearing voices in Swahili I don't understand. And the mark—Naya, the symbol you drew—it's on my wall."
Lex turned pale. "It's begun for her."
Sienna looked between them. "If it's spreading… how far can it go?"
Silence fell again.
And somewhere, far away, in a forest deep near Mapatano, a crow landed atop a crumbling chapel wall, cawing once before the wind howled and a shadow moved in the trees.
That night, the jar pulsed again, but this time it wasn't red.
It glowed black.