September 21st,
There's a moment in every war when the enemy stops hiding behind rumors and whispers. He steps out — bold, angry, exposed. Today was that day. And suddenly, this doesn't feel like campus anymore. It feels like a battlefield.
***
Tony didn't come back that evening.
He always texted — even if he was just going to grab snacks or hang out with the campus fellowship guys. But this time, there was nothing. Not even a "be right back."
I was pacing our hallway, holding my phone with numb fingers, when Mayumi rushed in, breathless.
"Sandra," she panted, "I just got a message from someone who saw it happen. Tony was ambushed."
"What?" I froze.
She nodded, eyes wide. "Near the back gate. Someone said Darrey and two guys cornered him."
I didn't wait to think. I just ran.
We found Tony seated on the edge of a concrete block, holding a bag of ice to his jaw. His shirt was torn at the collar, and there was a small cut above his brow.
"Tony!" I cried, dropping beside him.
He looked up and gave a half-smile. "Hey, Sand… you should see the other guy."
"Don't joke!" I snapped, blinking back tears. "What happened?"
He sighed. "I was heading to the library shortcut when Darrey and his guys showed up. Said I've been 'brainwashing the campus' and 'starting a cult of fire.' Said I was turning people against them."
"What did you do?" Mayumi asked.
Tony shrugged. "Tried to walk away. That's when one of them shoved me. I didn't swing — not until they threw the first punch."
"Did anyone see it?" I asked.
"Yeah. A girl ran off when it started. I think she reported it."
As if on cue, my phone vibrated. A text from the Fellowship president:
"Heard what happened. We're calling an emergency prayer chain tonight."
The next morning, I attended my Creative Expression class — exhausted but still standing.
Professor Frey, a middle-aged man known for his charisma and sharp wit, paused mid-lecture when he saw me.
His eyes lingered — not with warmth, but with something cold and unsettling.
"Miss Sandra," he said slowly, "you seem to enjoy… standing out."
I blinked. "Sir?"
"You know," he continued, voice smooth like silk over glass, "in every jungle, there's always a bird that sings too loudly."
The class chuckled nervously.
Then, suddenly, he smiled — too wide. "Don't be that bird."
The air in the room chilled. I felt something crawl up my spine.
After class, he passed by my seat and whispered low, "Careful where you burn your fire. Some of us prefer the dark."
I stared after him, stunned.
"Did you hear that?" I whispered to Mayumi.
She nodded, her face pale. "What is happening in this school?"
That evening, I couldn't eat. I sat on my bed, fingers resting on my Bible, heart racing. Anita walked in, watched me for a long moment, then sat on her own bed.
"They're afraid of you," she said quietly.
"Who?"
"The ones you can't see. And the ones you can."
I turned slowly to her. "Anita… do you know something?"
She looked at me — really looked. And for the first time, I saw the fear behind her usual calm.
"I've seen this before… in my dreams. But it wasn't just dreams. I think this place…" she swallowed, "I think it holds something dark. Something ancient."
***
They've stopped whispering. They're speaking now — through professors, fists, and fear. But I won't be silenced. We won't back down. The altar is built, and fire has fallen. The question is… who will stand?