The smell of salt and smoke still lingered on Nnamdi's clothes long after he left the port.
He had been walking for days, silent and restless, haunted by the sea and by dreams that burned behind his eyes.
The moon followed him like an unblinking witness as he crossed the red-dusty roads toward the familiar hills of Uzochi.
The wind whispered through the trees — the kind of wind that seemed to carry voices from the past.
The land had changed a little ,the same tall palms, the same cracked paths leading into the village.
But the silence felt heavier now, like the world was holding its breath.
A few days passed in uneasy peace. Nnamdi kept mostly to himself, sleeping in abandoned huts or under trees, watching strangers pass. He had grown cautious since the voyage.
But fate has a way of crossing paths where least expected.
That night, near the edge of the village, he saw two men in the shadows , whispering, circling a smaller figure.
Nnamdi drew closer. They lunged at the man, grabbing at his bag, but before they could strike, Nnamdi moved. His fists were swift, trained by survival. The robbers fell and scattered into the dark, their cries fading down the road.
The man he had saved , dressed well, too well for this dusty place ,trembled but tried to laugh it off.
"Ha! My friend, I owe you my life! Name's Osagie," he said, brushing the dirt from his sleeves. His tone was bright, almost careless, as if danger were just an inconvenience.
Nnamdi only nodded. "Be more careful."
But Osagie insisted on gratitude. "At least let me buy you a drink. There's a bar nearby, eh? You look like you could use one."
Reluctantly, Nnamdi agreed.
The bar was loud and hot, filled with laughter and quarrels. Osagie talked without pause , about faraway cities, about the adventure he craved.
Nnamdi barely listened. The crowd's noise pressed against his skull until he could take no more.
"I need air," he muttered, standing to leave.
His body ushered toward the exit, simultaneously drowning out the questions of osagie , just then , BUMP!
someone bumped into him, a woman carrying a clay lamp.
The glow caught her face for only a heartbeat, but in that brief second, something inside him shifted. She looked familiar. She looked like...
But she was already gone, lost in the crowd.
Outside, the air was cooler. Osagie hurried after him, still speaking.
The cold air swept dust at their feet as they hastened.
Moving towards the dark, the hairs rose on nnamdi back.
There was a chill in the streets.
A sound echoed behind them —
"koi, koi, koi"
slow and deliberate, like the steps of something that did not hurry because it knew there was no need to.
Then came the hiss.
Shadows moved along the rooftops — pale faces, red eyes. "Vampires".
Nnamdi's pulse roared in his ears. He pushed Osagie aside just as the first creature leapt.
The fight was fast and brutal, his body reacting before thought could catch up.
He was stronger now, but still learning, still uncertain.
One vampire pinned him down, fangs bared , his back colliding with the dusty floor, sweat forming along his temples, he was cornered.
"Sift"
Came from the darkness almost like a hum , or a murmur.
and then light split the dark.
A charm flared, bright as lightning. The creature screamed as a wooden staff pierced its chest.
A woman stepped from the alley, breathing hard — the same woman from the bar.
Her lamp flickered, reflecting in her wide eyes.
"Nnamdi?" she whispered.
He froze. "How... how do you know that name?"
Her lips parted, trembling. "It's me. Ngozi."
The world seemed to stop.
Memories flooded in — the farm, the laughter, the parting.
Years collapsed between them in an instant.
For a long time, neither spoke. Only the night wind moved.
They found shelter in a small hut nearby.
The three of them — Nnamdi, Ngozi, and Osagie — sat by a dying fire.
Slowly, the stories began to spill out.
Nnamdi spoke of the voyage, the storm, the curse.
Ngozi told them about her years under the healer Ijeoma, the strange powers she'd learned, and the darkness spreading through the land.
When Osagie finally spoke, it was with a small, awkward smile.
"My family... they're wealthy, from the western coast. But wealth is dull. I wanted to see more. Maybe die trying."
Ngozi raised a brow. "You left comfort to chase death?"
He laughed softly. "Adventure, maybe. Death just came along for the ride."
They all fell quiet after that. The fire hissed.
Then came the sound again.
Koi... koi... koi...
It echoed through the hut walls, soft but sharp, like heels striking stone.
Ngozi's face drained of color. "No," she whispered. "It can't be."
A cold voice drifted through the doorway.
"You've come far, Nnamdi. But your journey ends here."
A tall figure stepped into the moonlight — long red dress that swept the dust, pale skin that gleamed like bone, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.
The air thickened with her presence. No one moved.
She raised a single hand, and the air around Nnamdi rippled — a flicker of dark mist coiling briefly across his neck before vanishing beneath the skin.
He gasped and staggered back, clutching the spot, a faint burning crawling beneath his flesh.
Her lips curling. "I'll always find you..."
The lamp flickered, she was gone ,her laughter echoing through the night like the fading ring of a bell.
Osagie swallowed hard. "Who... what was that?"
Ngozi didn't answer at first. Her eyes fixed on the door, the flame of the lamp trembling in her hand.
"She goes by many names," Ngozi murmured. "Some call her the Lady of the east. Others... the Devourer of Children."
The wind howled
"But around here," she whispered, "they call her... Miss Koi Koi."
Silence. The fire flickered once and died.
Ngozi turned to Nnamdi, her eyes steady despite the fear.
"We can't face this alone. Tomorrow, we go to my teacher .....Madam Ijeoma. She'll know what to do."
Outside, the wind carried the faint, haunting sound of distant footsteps
"koi, koi, koi".