AyodeleAlaba
Part 1
The music had barely faded when three LASU boys - Olakeys, Segzy, and Chike - stumbled out of a party into the dim Lagos night. Spotting a young woman by the roadside, they offered her a ride.
She wore a tight red dress that hugged her curves. Her skin was unnaturally pale and smooth under the yellow streetlight. A heavy, sweet perfume - jasmine mixed with something metallic like blood - filled the air. Her long black hair moved perfectly, untouched by the breeze, and her smile revealed teeth too sharp and white.
"Come to my place in Berger," she said in a velvety voice. "We can continue the fun there."
Olakeys and Segzy quickly agreed, but Chike felt a strange heaviness in his chest. As they drove, the feeling worsened.
"Abeg, stop here," Chike said suddenly. "Drop me. I'll take a bike."
Despite their teasing, he got out. As the car pulled away, the woman turned and smiled at him through the window - her dark glassy eyes and unnaturally wide grin sent chills down his spine.
He never knew it would be the last time he saw his friends alive.
The next morning, Olakeys and Segzy were missing. By afternoon, Chike received a terrifying WhatsApp message from Olakeys at 5:12 AM:
Chike... call the police. Please. Berger.
Both phones were switched off. After three days of silence, social media exploded with #FindOlakeysAndSegzy.
Police eventually traced a signal to an abandoned building in Berger. Inside a dusty room, they found a large wooden box. The smell hit them first.
When they opened it, even hardened officers recoiled in horror. The dismembered remains of Olakeys and Segzy were carefully arranged inside. Some body parts were missing.
The mysterious woman was never found.
When Chike heard the news, he collapsed. The image of the red taillights disappearing into the night haunted him.
Deep down, he knew the truth: If he had stayed in that car, there would have been three names on the missing persons poster.