The boys didn't stop running. Not for a second. Their boots pounded the frozen earth, echoing through the dark forest like frantic drums. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a branch sounded like someone—or something—right behind them.
Banji's chest heaved, his breath forming clouds in the cold night air.
"Do you think… it can follow us?" he gasped, panic rising.
Ayo didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on the glowing sugar trail they had inadvertently left behind—the faint sparkle of granules crushed beneath their feet. Even now, faint wisps of white mist lingered in the air, twisting and curling as though alive.
Emmanuel stumbled over a gnarled root. Adeoluwa yanked him upright.
"We need to get to the fields," Adeoluwa panted. "Once we're out in the open… maybe it—"
A scream cut him off.
It wasn't human. It was high, jagged, almost musical, yet terrifyingly sharp. It sliced through the night, freezing the boys mid-step. Shadows of the trees stretched unnaturally, bending toward them. And then, from the corner of Ayo's vision, he saw it—a white mist moving impossibly fast between the trunks, its hollow, empty eyes fixed on them.
"RUN!" Ayo shouted, fear spiking through his voice.
Branches clawed at their faces. Snow and sugar dust swirled in the wind, blinding them. Every step they took seemed to bring them no closer to safety, as if the forest itself had bent and twisted around them. Every sound—the crunch of leaves, the hiss of wind—felt amplified, like the world had sharpened its ears to watch them suffer.
They stumbled over fallen logs, slipped on icy roots, and collided with each other in frantic desperation. Banji's fingers brushed against something cold and hard on the ground. He glanced down—it was a small cube, perfectly shaped, gleaming with frost and sugar crystals. He didn't have time to think, only to snatch it and keep running.
Then, abruptly, they burst into the clearing near the community fields. The Christmas lights strung across fences and rooftops flickered above them, casting a warm, gentle glow over the frozen grass. For a fleeting, disorienting second, the world felt normal.
But the mist was already there. Hovering just at the treeline, twisting and pulsating like a living thing. It seemed taller, wider now, its hollow eyes scanning the open space. A low, rasping hiss escaped it—like sugar crystals grinding together—and it felt as if the forest itself held its breath.
Adeoluwa swallowed hard.
"It… it wants something. Us?"
Banji shook his head, holding the small sugar cube tightly in his hand. "No… not just us. What they were offering… it's never satisfied."
Ayo clenched his fists, his teeth gritting in determination. "Then we need to find out who this cult really is. Who… or what… Olorun Didùn is. And how to stop it before it spreads beyond this forest."
A cold wind swept through the clearing, carrying a faint, mocking chant:
"SÙGÀ… SÙGÀ… DIDÙN WA…"
The boys flinched. The sound echoed strangely, bouncing across the houses and empty fields, as though the night itself joined the cult in mocking them. Ayo held up the sugar cube. It sparkled in the faint light, but something about it felt wrong. The edges seemed sharper than normal, almost crystalline, almost alive.
Emmanuel's voice trembled.
"Do you think… we could use it?"
Banji glanced at him. "Use it? What do you mean?"
Emmanuel swallowed hard. "I don't know… maybe it's a key? Something that belongs to… to them—or to the god?"
Adeoluwa shook his head. "I don't like this. Nothing about this is safe."
The mist shifted. It pulsed, spreading tendrils of fog toward them like hungry fingers. Its voice—soft, cold, and melodic—whispered in the back of their minds:
"Children… children… children…"
Ayo felt a shiver run through him. He pressed the cube into his pocket. "We're not playing with them anymore. We need a plan. We need to know what we're dealing with."
Banji glanced back at the forest. The white-robed figures were retreating slightly, their chant fading into angry murmurs. But the mist lingered, hovering over the treeline like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.
The boys knew one thing for certain: tonight, the sweetness of Christmas had turned deadly. And whatever lay in the shadows—sugar, cube, or shadow itself—was only the beginning.
They had survived the first encounter. But surviving the next… might not be possible.