The Netherworld Scholars

In the home of Mr. and Mrs. Olabode lived two daughters. The first was Christabel, 17. She had just graduated and was now in lessons, preparing for JAMB. The second was Rose, 15. She had just finished JSS3 and was about to start SSS1. No one in the house believed in God. They were atheists. Prayer wasn’t a thing. Church was a story. Then Mr. Olabode got transferred. The whole family had to move. Christabel settled into her lesson center. Rose was registered at a new school. On Rose’s first day back, she came home frustrated. “I don’t like this school,” she said. Christabel laughed it off. “New school jitters.” That night, Christabel slept. And dreamed. A woman stood in their room. Old and young at the same time. Her face was calm, but wrong. On her head, written in glowing letters, was one word: *ENIRAM*. Christabel watched Rose shift on the bed. Then the woman stepped forward... and walked right into Rose. Christabel screamed and jolted awake. Rose was standing at the foot of her bed. But something was off. When Rose walked, Christabel heard it. Not Rose’s footsteps. The same slow, deliberate steps from her dream. Rose turned. Looked at her. And smirked. The next afternoon, Christabel couldn’t focus in lesson. She told the teacher she was going home early, then took a detour. She stood in front of Rose’s school. *The Scholars.* Big gates. Tall buildings. Too quiet for a school in the afternoon. Christabel raised her phone and took a picture. The next day at lesson, she was with her only friend, Divine. They were gist-ing when Christabel finally said it out loud. “Something is wrong with Rose. And with that school.” Divine tried to talk to her about God. “Maybe you should just—” Christabel didn’t wait. She stood up and walked out. In the hallway, she scrolled through her photos. She stopped at yesterday’s picture of the school gate. She zoomed in. Above *THE SCHOLARS*, faded into the stone, were more letters. *NETHERWORLD.* It didn’t read _The Scholars_. It read *THE NETHERWORLD SCHOLARS*. Her chest went cold. She ran back into class, grabbed her bag, and left. She ran all the way home, out of breath. Her dad was at the door. “I forgot something,” he said. Christabel brushed past him and went inside. But later ran out. That’s when she saw it. Her mum, limp in her dad’s arms. “My mom was in the house?” Christabel asked. “But she left for work this morning.” They rushed her to the hospital. Hours later, they came back home. Christabel went straight to Rose’s room and peeped through the c***k in the door. Rose was kneeling on the floor, chanting in a language Christabel didn’t know. Then Rose turned. Her eyes were blue. Glowing blue.