2025-11-28 03:09:52Uche Obi never believed in curses.
Not when he grew up in a house where the roof leaked every rainy season.
Not when his father vanished before his tenth birthday.Not when life constantly punched him in the throat.But the moment he stepped into Blackridge University, curse or not, the air changed.
It was too still. Too watchful.Like the school was waiting for him.Students swarmed the hostel allocation board, shouting, arguing, shoving. The sun was high, the heat wicked, and everyone looked stressed. But the moment Uche squeezed in to check his name, people suddenly went quiet behind him.
He found it:
OBI UCHECHUKWU — BLOCK C, ROOM 49.
A low hiss rose from the crowd.
“Ah. God don catch this one.”
“Room 49 again? Blood of Jesus.”
“Another mumu don enter.”
Uche turned. Faces shifted away. Some pitied him, others smirked. A few backed up like he carried a contagious disease. His stomach tightened.
“What’s wrong with Room 49?” he asked.
Nobody answered.
Nobody ever did.Block C stood at the far end of the hostel compound—extra quiet, extra lonely, like the school tried to hide it. The hallway smelled of old paint and something damp. Every door had names written in chalk, laughter spilling from some, music roaring from others.
Then he reached Room 49.
The corridor around it was silent. Cold.
Too cold for a hot afternoon.The door was darker than the others, dented, like someone had once kicked it repeatedly. A sticker at the top corner read: MAINTENANCE — DO NOT MOVE FURNITURE.
Uche swallowed hard.
He pushed the door open.
The room was dim, even with the window open. Dust floated in the air like it had been waiting for him. One bed was neatly made; the other was bare. One locker open, the other closed. The walls were scratched as if nails had dragged across them.
And on the wall, carved in shaky handwriting:
DON’T SLEEP. DON’T TRUST ANYONE.
A chill crawled over his back.
He forced himself to laugh. “Probably some prank. These seniors too dey craze.”
He dropped his box on the floor and opened the locker. Inside were old wrappers, a half-used deodorant, and a piece of notebook paper folded neatly. He unfolded it.
A single line.
LEAVE BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
His hand shook.
“What kind of nonsense…” He dropped the paper like it burned.
The door banged behind him.
He spun.
A tall, slim guy stood there with a backpack slung over one shoulder. His eyes were serious, his expression unreadable.
“You must be Uche,” the guy said. “I’m Seyi. Your roommate.”
“Oh.” Uche exhaled. “Good. I thought—”
“That I was a ghost?”
Seyi didn’t laugh.Uche blinked. “…I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.” Seyi dropped his bag on his bed and sat. “Look, the room has… history. Forget whatever you saw on the wall. People exaggerate.”
“So what happened?”
Seyi leaned back, avoiding the question. “It’s just an unlucky room. Too many incidents. People get scared and make stories.”
“What kind of incidents?”
Seyi paused.
And paused too long.“Just don’t open the wardrobe at night,” he finally said.
Uche stared at him. “Guy, what do you mean—”
“Just don’t.” Seyi stood again. “I’m stepping out to get food. You coming?”
Uche shook his head. His head was already too full.
When Seyi left, Uche let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He examined the room again. Someone had definitely lived here before—the mattress had an indent, the locker smelled faint, like perfume and sweat. But everything felt… abandoned.
He dragged his box towards his bed, dusted it, and started unpacking. When he lifted the mattress to tuck his bedsheet, something caught his eye—a rusty nail sticking out of the wooden frame. The nail looked intentional, like someone pushed it there on purpose.
But something else was even stranger.
A strip of paper was tied around the nail like a tiny tag.
He tore it gently.
2:13 A.M.
Just the time.
Nothing else.His mouth went dry.
He dropped the note and stepped back.
This room is weird. Too weird.
Night came faster than expected. Seyi returned with fried rice and pure water, said little, and slept early. Uche lay on his own bed, eyes open, heart beating too fast.
The room felt colder at night. The kind of cold that didn’t make sense in a building full of sweaty students and noisy generators.
Uche checked his phone—2:00 a.m.
Thirteen minutes before the time on the paper.
“Guy,” he whispered, nudging Seyi’s bed. “You awake?”
No response.
“Seyi?”
Silence.
Uche’s chest tightened. He sat up fully, the darkness thick around him. The wardrobe stood at the far end, its wooden doors reflecting a faint shadow from the window.
2:07 a.m.
He wiped his palms on his shorts.
“This is stupid,” he said to himself. “It’s just an old room. Nothing will hap—”
THUMP.
Something hit inside the wardrobe.
Uche froze.
THUMP.
Another one. Louder.Like a fist.From inside.He swallowed hard. His throat refused to work.
“Seyi,” he whispered again. “Wake up.”
No response. The guy was dead asleep.
2:10 a.m.
The thumping continued. Slow. Rhythmic. Deliberate.
THUMP… THUMP… THUMP…
He slowly pulled his feet onto the bed, heart slamming against his ribs. He grabbed his phone, turned on the flashlight, and pointed it at the wardrobe.
Nothing moved.
But the sound continued.He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He wanted to open the door and run straight out of the hostel.
But he also wanted to know.
2:12 a.m.
The sound doubled.
THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.He gripped his phone tighter.
2:13 a.m.
It stopped.
Instantly.
Completely.The silence was loud.
Uche waited.
Ten seconds.Twenty.Thirty.Then—
CREAAAAAK.
The wardrobe handle turned by itself.
Uche’s breath vanished.
The door opened…
just an inch.Only silence came out. No shadow, no hand, nothing.
He stared for almost a full minute, frozen in fear. When the wardrobe stayed still, he finally found the courage to whisper:
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
He slid off his bed slowly, each step careful, his feet trembling. He reached the wardrobe. The air around it was cold like ice. His heartbeat was roaring in his ears.
He pushed the door wider.
The wardrobe was empty.
Completely.
Not even a hanger.He stepped back, confused, terrified, relieved.
Then something on the wardrobe floor caught his eye—a folded piece of paper.
He picked it up with shaking fingers.
Another single line.
WELCOME TO THE PROGRAM.
Before he could react, something moved behind him.
A soft whisper.
“Uche.”
He jumped and turned—
Seyi stood behind him, eyes half-open, face pale.
“You shouldn’t read that,” Seyi said quietly.
Uche’s voice cracked. “Seyi… what’s happening in this room? Why did the wardrobe—”
Seyi raised a finger to his lips.
“Don’t ask here.”
He stepped back towards his bed.“Walls have ears.”And then he lay down and slept.
Just like that.
Uche stood there the rest of the night, unable to sleep, clutching the note, his mind screaming.
The room wasn’t cursed.
Something else was going on.Something organized.Something watching.And for the first time in a long, long while, Uche wished he never got admission.
Because Room 49 did not feel like a room.
It felt like a trap.
A test.
A doorway to something he wasn’t ready for.
And somewhere deep in the dark corners of the room, something—or someone—had just welcomed him.
WELCOME TO THE PROGRAM.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 11 — THE HEART OF 49
Uche stepped through the blackened doorway, and the world shifted beneath him.It wasn’t like any room he’d ever seen—or imagined. The darkness wasn’t empty. It was alive.It whispered. Hissed. Reached into him.The air was thick, tasting of iron and cold metal. His lungs burned as though he were underwater. Shadows curled and twisted around him like snakes, weaving in impossible patterns. He felt their eyes—millions of them—watching, judging, testing.And then he saw it: the core of Room 49.A massive black orb hovered at the center of the space. It pulsed rhythmically, as though it had a heartbeat. Every beat sent ripples across the void, distorting reality itself.Uche’s stomach turned. He instinctively wanted to step back, but his feet were rooted. Something deep in his mind—the same voice that had guided him before—whispered:You were born for this.His father’s voice echoed faintly in his mind."Remember, fear is your tool, not your master."He clenched his fists. His father was
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 10 — THE DIRECTORDarkness swallowed the room.Not the normal type of darkness—no.This one was alive.Uche froze. It felt like something had slipped over his eyes, his ears, his very thoughts. A cold pressure tightened around his skull, like Room 49 itself had wrapped invisible fingers around his brain.His father’s breathing beside him was ragged, shallow—he was fading.“Seyi?” Uche whispered.No answer.The lights snapped back on with a violent flicker.But the room had changed.It was no longer the small interrogation chamber.No walls. No doors. No ceiling.Just a massive empty white void stretching endlessly in every direction.And standing in the center of it—A man.Tall.Cold.Wearing a white coat that contrasted sharply with his obsidian-black gloves.His face was hidden behind a smooth metallic mask—no eyes, no mouth, no features—just a perfect silver surface reflecting Uche’s own terrified expression.The Director.Finally.Uche’s heart slammed against his ribcage.
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 9 — THE DIRECTOR’S GAMEUche ran through the campus streets under the cloak of darkness, lungs burning, heart hammering like it wanted to escape his chest. The night air was thick with smoke from the burning maintenance shaft behind him. Sirens still wailed somewhere below ground. The Director’s forces were organized, precise, and deadly—they didn’t chase blindly. They hunted.He didn’t look back. Every instinct screamed to keep moving. His father had pushed him toward the west exit, but that was no longer safe. The facility was crawling with Execution Units, and Room 49 itself seemed to pulse through his veins, whispering, judging, taunting.Seyi had vanished somewhere along the tunnels, leaving a faint trail only Uche could follow, guided by instinct, fear, and the flickering light of distant exit signs.Then the whisper came—not from the walls, not from the shadows, but inside his mind:“Stop running, Uche Obi. You cannot outrun me.”It wasn’t Seyi. It wasn’t his father. It
CHAPTER 8 – THE ESCAPE THEY DIDN’T PLAN FOR
The siren screamed through the underground facility—shrill, urgent, violent.Red lights flashed like blood splashes against the walls.Footsteps thundered.Orders barked through radios.Uche didn’t move. He couldn’t. His father’s warning froze him.Someone inside wants you dead.Seyi slammed the reinforced door shut and locked it, face tense for the first time since Uche met him.“Shit,” Seyi muttered. “They weren’t supposed to move this early.”Uche’s father stood up slowly, as if his bones hurt. But his eyes—sharp, intense—were fully alive.“We have five minutes,” he said.“Five minutes for what?” Uche whispered.“To get you out.”A pounding hit the door—violent, metallic, the sound of boots and weapons.“Open this door now!”Uche turned to Seyi. “I thought you were in charge. Why are they coming for us?”Seyi didn’t answer immediately. He pulled a pistol from his vest and chambered a round.“I’m in charge of candidates,” he said. “Not the Execution Unit.”“The what?” Uche’s stomach
CHAPTER 7 – THE INTERROGATION ROOM
Uche didn’t expect the blindfold to come off so suddenly.One moment, he was being dragged through a corridor—arms twisted behind him, boots hitting his shins—then a bright white light hit his eyes like a slap. He blinked hard.A metal chair.A table with chains.One camera blinking red.Cold room. No windows. No clock.Interrogation.Across the table sat a man in a grey tactical vest, his face unreadable, fingers drumming the metal like a countdown.“Uche Obi,” the man said. “Age eighteen. Freshman. Room 49.”He tilted his head like he was examining an animal.“You survived longer than expected.”Uche swallowed. “Where am I?”“Somewhere beneath campus.”The man leaned forward.“Tell me what you’ve figured out so far.”Uche kept quiet.He didn’t know if speaking would save him or kill him.He only knew one thing: they wanted information, and anything he said could put him deeper into their game.The man sighed, annoyed.“You think staying quiet helps you? You think silence equals stre
CHAPTER 6 — THE FIRST COMMAND
Uche knew from the moment the sun went down that something was wrong.The air in Room 49 usually felt cold.Tonight, it felt charged—like electricity humming under the walls.Seyi felt it too.He kept checking the corners of the room, looking at the ceiling, glancing at the wardrobe like he expected it to burst open.“This is the Instruction Test,” Seyi said quietly.“It always feels like this.”Uche’s chest was tight. “What… exactly happens?”Seyi didn’t look at him.“The room gives a command. You follow… or you don’t.”“And if I don’t?”“You fail.”“And if I follow?”“You pass.”“But what does ‘fail’ mean, Seyi?!” Uche snapped.Seyi looked at him with eyes that had seen too much.“You don’t want to find out.”Uche swallowed hard.2:00 a.m.The air grew heavier.The taps in the walls stopped completely—like the thing inside was holding its breath.Seyi sat cross-legged, staring at the wardrobe.“Whatever happens,” he whispered, “don’t scream.”Uche froze. “Why?”“Because screaming me
You may also like
Monster Hunters
Datdepressedguy 16.1K viewsHis Biggest Secret
ijay16.5K viewsThe Awakened Arcane Legacy
Paul_okito22.3K viewsThe Least Common Denominator
MokouFriedChicken25.8K viewsHeir by Dawn
Milky-Grip588 viewsThe Villain's Creed: Neither True Hero Nor Last Boss
@zion939 viewsThe challenger of Destiny
Haiistory856 viewsNight walker
Kayler Hood 1.3K views