Chilling tales for the restless night

The pact of shadows

Mbali had always lived in the shadow of his friend, Nuru. They grew up together in a small village in the heart of Congo, where the days were long and the nights were filled with the sound of crickets and distant drums. The village was not rich in material things, but its people were content—until Nuru, seemingly out of nowhere, became the richest man anyone had ever seen.

At first, it was subtle. Nuru began buying more food at the market, then came new clothes, then, to everyone's shock, a car—a shining, foreign machine that turned every head as it rolled down the dirt roads of their village. The women began whispering about him, the young and old alike casting hopeful glances his way. Mothers, too, began speaking in low tones, suggesting that their daughters would do well to marry such a man.

But Nuru declined them all. Every offer, every suggestion. He smiled politely, but his eyes were distant, as though he saw something they didn't. This only made the whispers grow louder. Where had his wealth come from? How had he become so successful so quickly?

Mbali, like the others, was curious. But unlike the others, he was burning with envy. It gnawed at him, eating away at his sense of contentment. He had known Nuru his whole life, and now, suddenly, his friend was beyond reach, living a life of luxury that Mbali could only dream of. Each time Nuru passed in his fine clothes, each time he drove out of the village in his car, a dark seed of jealousy took root in Mbali's heart.

One evening, Mbali could bear it no longer. He had to know how Nuru had become so rich. They met at the edge of the village, under the glow of a fading sunset. Nuru stood there, looking out toward the horizon, his face calm as ever.

"Nuru," Mbali began hesitantly, "I've been wondering... How did you do it? How did you get all this wealth?"

Nuru turned to him, his expression unreadable. There was a long pause before he spoke. "If I tell you, Mbali, there's no going back."

The words hung in the air like a warning. Something in Nuru's tone made Mbali uneasy, but his desire for wealth was stronger. He needed to know. He had to escape the poverty of the village, just like his friend.

"I don't care," Mbali said, his voice firm. "I want what you have."

Nuru's eyes darkened slightly, but he nodded. "Very well. Meet me at my house tonight. Late. We'll go from there."

The night fell slowly, the village slipping into silence as people retreated to their homes. Mbali waited impatiently until the moon hung high in the sky before he made his way to Nuru's house. His friend was waiting for him, dressed in dark clothes and holding a lantern.

"Are you ready?" Nuru asked.

Mbali swallowed, the unease growing stronger, but he nodded. "I'm ready."

Without another word, Nuru led him out of the village, toward the dense forest that loomed on its outskirts. The villagers always avoided this part of the woods. It was said to be haunted, filled with spirits and creatures from the old stories that mothers told their children to keep them from wandering too far.

Mbali's mother had often warned him about the deep forest, telling him of demons that would steal his soul if he ventured too far into the trees. But tonight, he pushed those warnings aside. He was not a child anymore, and the lure of riches was too strong to resist.

They walked in silence for what felt like hours, the trees growing taller and the air colder as they ventured deeper into the forest. The path became narrow, overgrown with vines and thick roots that twisted up from the ground like skeletal hands. Mbali's skin prickled with fear, but he kept walking, following Nuru's steady pace.

At last, they reached a clearing by a river. The water was dark, almost black, and mist hovered above its surface, swirling like something alive. The only sounds were the distant croaks of frogs and the eerie whisper of the wind through the trees. It was a place that felt far from the world of men, as though they had stepped into a forgotten realm.