The Night

Chapter 1

The night sky was calm, almost unnervingly so. The villagers of Agbala slept peacefully, unaware that this quiet night would become their last. Tife lay in her small bed, her twin siblings snuggled close to her, and her parents asleep nearby.

Then came the thunder—trucks rumbling down the dirt roads, shouts echoing, and the sharp crack of gunfire. Panic erupted. Men in black uniforms with faceless masks stormed the village, moving like shadows of death. Tife’s father tried to gather the family, but it was too late.

Her mother screamed as the soldiers forced the villagers into submission. The twins clung to Tife, crying. She tried to shield them, but one strike sent her sprawling, and when she looked up, she saw her father fall under the soldiers’ guns.

Tife ran, heart pounding, as the village burned behind her. Smoke and screams filled the night, a symphony of horror she could never forget. She stumbled through the chaos, reaching for her siblings, only to see them being pulled away. Her mother’s final scream cut through her mind, a sound that would haunt her forever.

Before she could resist, strong hands grabbed her. Tife struggled, kicked, and screamed, but the soldiers were relentless. She was thrown into a cold, metal box alongside dozens of other youths—teens from the village and surrounding areas. The box rattled as the trucks drove away, carrying them into the unknown.

Inside, it was dark, suffocating, and terrifying. Tife curled around herself, tears streaming down her face, her mind replaying the images of her family being murdered. The twins, her mother, her father—gone. She whispered their names, hoping somehow they could hear her.

Hours passed. The air was thick and hot, filled with the quiet sobs of other captured youths. Then a boy about her age was thrown into the box. He fell heavily, catching his balance quickly. Their eyes met—his dark, steady gaze seemed to understand everything Tife felt.

“I’m Steven,” he said softly, helping her to steady herself. “I’ve been here a while. Don’t let them break you. You have to survive.”

Tife didn’t know if she could trust him, or anyone. But in that moment, amidst the fear and grief, a tiny spark of resolve flickered in her heart.

“I will survive,” she whispered to herself. “And I will make them pay. Every last one of them.”

The journey of pain, training, and vengeance had begun.

The journey felt endless. The metal box rattled violently as the trucks sped over rough terrain. Some youths prayed quietly; others cried until their voices broke. Tife sat still, head against the cold wall, her heart burning in silent agony.

When the truck finally screeched to a halt, the doors swung open, and blinding light poured in.

“Move!” a soldier barked.

One by one, they were dragged out into a large compound surrounded by tall fences crowned with razor wire. Watchtowers stood at each corner, armed soldiers scanning the yard like predators watching prey.

Tife swallowed hard. This place wasn’t a camp. It was a prison.

The youths were lined up before a man in a red beret. His face was stern, emotionless.

“You are here,” he began coldly, “because your villages are weak. If you want to live, you will be trained. You will fight. You will serve. Those who fail…”

He raised a hand. A soldier dragged forward a boy who had tried to run. Before anyone could blink, the soldier struck him down mercilessly. Gasps filled the air; fear settled like a heavy fog.

“Understand?”

No one dared speak.

Tife clenched her fists. Her mind screamed with rage, but she forced herself silent. Survive first. Revenge later.

Steven stood beside her. Leaning close so no guard could hear, he murmured, “Do what they say for now. Stay alive.”

She didn’t reply, but she listened.

Their training started the very next morning. It wasn’t like training — it was torture disguised as discipline.

They were forced to run miles barefoot under the scorching sun. Those who slowed were whipped. They were made to fight each other to exhaustion. Food was little, rest even less.

Many youths collapsed. Some never got up again.

Every death broke Tife, but every death hardened her too.

During one brutal drill, she stumbled and nearly fell. A soldier raised his whip—

Steven stepped in front of her.

“I’ll take her punishment,” he said quickly.

The soldier sneered. “Brave. Or stupid.”

Steven received ten lashes, each one tearing through his back. Tife watched helplessly, guilt clawing at her chest.

Later that night, as they sat in the dark dormitory, Tife whispered, “Why did you do that?”

Steven winced but smiled faintly. “Because I can’t watch them break you. And… because I care.”

Tife’s heart tightened. In this hell, kindness felt unreal. Dangerous. Precious.

“I won’t let your pain be for nothing,” she whispered. “I’ll get stronger. For my family… and for everyone they’ve killed.”

Steven nodded. “Then we survive together.”

Chapter two will be uploaded soon,. ' please share. ☺️