The dreams began that same night.
Nneka didn't remember falling asleep.
One moment she was staring into the darkness…
The next—
She was standing in the middle of the river.
But the water wasn't moving.
It was still.
Too still.
Like glass.
The sky above her was gray.
Not day.
Not night.
Just… empty.
"Nneka…"
Her breath caught.
She turned slowly.
A man stood on the surface of the water.
His clothes were soaked.
His eyes are hollow.
His mouth slightly open…
as if he had been trying to scream before something dragged him under.
"Help me…" he whispered.
Nneka's feet wouldn't move.
"What happened to you?"
The man raised a trembling hand.
Pointing behind her.
"Don't let him come here tomorrow…"
Her heart pounded.
"Who?"
The man's expression twisted.
Fear.
Deep, desperate fear.
"The fisherman," he said."Tell him not to go to the river."
The water beneath them rippled.
Just once.
Then something moved beneath the surface.
Fast.
Large.
Wrong.
The man's eyes widened.
"He's coming—"
The water exploded upward.
A hand—dark, decayed, and dripping—shot out and grabbed the man's leg.
He screamed.
This time, louder.
This time, human.
"NNEKA, WAKE UP!"
She gasped.
Her eyes flew open.
Her body jerked upright.
Her chest was heaving like she had been drowning.
The room was dark.
But normal.
Too normal.
She touched her face.
Dry.
No water.
No river.
Just a dream.
Right?
But her heart refused to slow.
Because the fear…
felt real.
And the voice…
still echoed in her ears.
"Tell him not to go to the river."
Morning came too quickly.
The village buzzed with its usual routine—women fetching water, men preparing for the day, children running barefoot through the dusty paths.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
But Nneka knew something was wrong.
She spotted him near the edge of the village.
The fisherman.
Tall. Quiet. Strong.
He effortlessly carried his net over his shoulder.
Her stomach tightened.
"That's him…" she whispered.
Her feet moved before she could think.
"Wait!" she called out.
The fisherman turned, surprised.
Nneka stopped a few steps away, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
"You shouldn't go to the river today."
The man frowned.
"Why not?"
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
How could she explain?
"I… I saw something," she said finally."In a dream."
The fisherman's expression hardened slightly.
"A dream?"
Nneka nodded quickly.
"Something awful is going to happen. Please… just don't go."
He studied her.
Long.
Carefully.
Then he chuckled.
"Little girl," he said, adjusting the net on his shoulder,"I've been fishing that river longer than you've been alive."
Nneka's chest tightened.
"Please—"
But he shook his head.
"Dreams are not real."
And just like that—
He turned.
And walked away.
Nneka stood frozen.
The wind brushed past her.
Soft.
Cold.
And a whisper followed—
"You tried."
Her hands clenched.
"That's not enough."
The sun climbed higher.
Time passed.
Too slowly.
Every second felt heavier than the last.
Nneka sat outside her house, staring at the path that led to the river.
Waiting.
Listening.
The village carried on.
Unaware.
Until—
A scream tore through the air.
Not close.
From the river.
Nneka shot to her feet.
Her heart dropped.
"No…"
People began to run.
Voices rose.
Fear spread like fire.
"The fisherman!"
"Something took him!"
"He's gone!"
Nneka didn't move.
She couldn't.
Because she already knew.
By evening, the village gathered near the riverbank.
The water was calm.
Peaceful.
Like nothing had happened.
But the fisherman was gone.
Nobody.
No trace.
Just silence.
Heavy.
Unnatural.
Nneka stood at the edge, her eyes fixed on the water.
And then—
She heard it.
Faint.
From beneath the surface.
"You didn't stop it…"
Her breath hitched.
The water rippled.
Just once.
Then it stilled again.
Nneka stepped back slowly.
Her hands were trembling.
"I tried…" she whispered.
But the voice didn't soften.
"Next time… try harder."
That night, the village changed.
People avoided her even more.
Doors closed faster.
Voices dropped when she passed.
And this time—
They didn't just fear her.
They blamed her.
"She knew," someone whispered.
"She said something would happen."
"How could she know that?"
Nneka sat alone in her room.
Her knees pulled to her chest.
Her eyes were empty.
"I didn't want this…" she whispered.
The shadows stretched along the walls.
And then—
A new voice spoke.
Not soft.
Not gentle.
Cold.
"But this is only the beginning."
Nneka froze.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Silence.
Then—
A low, chilling response:
"The one they buried."
Her heart stopped.
"What do you mean?"
The darkness seemed to breathe.
And then—
"Tell them…"
A pause.
Long.
Heavy.
Terrifying.
"I am coming back."
At that exact moment—
Outside her window—
The ground shifted.
Just slightly.
Like something beneath the earth…
had just moved.