PART2: “HE SLEPT WITH A KILLER: The Man Who Loved a Woman—And Never Knew She Wasn’t Even Human”
Jordan’s nights were no longer his own. Every time he closed his eyes, the faces of his dead friends haunted him—Kelvin, Samuel, Marcus, David—gone, all gone, and only he remained, the last survivor of a drunken night that had summoned death in the shape of a woman. The weight in his chest was unbearable. He paced his room, whispering to the darkness, “God, what is happening to me?” The world outside was quiet, but inside, terror crawled beneath his skin.
Far away, deep in the forest, Diana stood before her mother—a being whose eyes were colder than the grave. “You have three days,” the old woman hissed. “Three days only.” Diana’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Mother, please…” But the matriarch’s staff struck the earth, the sound echoing like a curse. “You have forgotten who you are. You now think like a human.” Diana’s voice broke: “I did not plan to fall in love. It just happened.” Her mother’s gaze was hard as stone. “If you fail, you will join the ones you tried to protect.” Then, before Diana’s eyes, the old woman’s body twisted and shrank, turning into a monstrous serpent that disappeared into the night. Diana was left alone, trembling, whispering, “Jordan, why did it have to be you?”
The next morning, Jordan woke with the pastor’s warning ringing in his mind: “Be careful of some people around you.” He dressed with a heaviness in his spirit he couldn’t shake. Later, Diana arrived at his door. She smiled, but her eyes were rimmed with sorrow. “You look sad,” Jordan said. “Did something happen?” She forced a smile. “It is nothing.” They sat together, the air thick with secrets. Jordan searched her face, trying to remember the first night he’d seen her. “Diana,” he finally said, “do you believe some things are not normal?” She looked at him sharply. “What do you mean?” He hesitated. “Too many people have died around me. My friends are gone. And it all started after that night at the bush.”
Diana’s heart thundered. She wanted to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. Then Jordan’s phone rang. It was his pastor: “Stay close to God these days. Pray before you sleep.” Jordan nodded, ending the call. “You heard that?” he asked. She nodded, eyes full of dread. That night, Diana could not kill. She returned to the forest and wept.
The second day, Jordan went through the motions of work, but his mind was elsewhere—on Diana, on his dead friends, on the snake that had slithered from his car. After work, he went straight to church and knelt in prayer. “God, if there is danger around me, please show me.” At that same moment, in the restless forest, Diana’s mother appeared again. “You are wasting time,” she spat. “I cannot do it,” Diana sobbed. “I love him.” Her mother’s eyes blazed red. “You love him more than your own!” Diana begged, “Please spare him.” The old woman’s staff struck the ground. “If sunrise meets you tomorrow and he is still alive, I will take your place.” Diana screamed in fear.
That night, Diana ran to Jordan’s house, tears streaming down her face. “I do not want to lose you,” she cried. Jordan was bewildered. “Lose me? Why would you lose me?” She could only cry harder. While he slept, Diana sat by his bed, her eyes shifting, her form flickering between woman and something else. She fled before sunrise, unable to finish the deed.
The third day dawned. Diana shook in the forest; her mother appeared, silent as death. “Time is up,” the old woman said. Diana pleaded for one more chance. Her mother pointed her staff. “Either he dies or you disappear from this world.” Diana ran, tears blinding her, all the way to Jordan’s house. Inside, Jordan was packing his bag, planning to sleep at the church. Diana locked the door behind her. “Jordan, we need to talk.” He turned, saw the terror on her face. “You look scared. Tell me what’s wrong.” She drew close. “There is something I must tell you.” Her lips trembled. “Outside the house…” The wind howled. The curtains danced. Jordan felt a chill. “Diana…” Just as she was about to speak, a thunderous knock rattled the door. Both jumped in fear.
Another knock, louder, shook the whole house. Diana’s body trembled. Her eyes shifted, serpent-like, then human again. Jordan crept toward the door. “Who is that?” No answer. Another knock. Diana screamed, “Do not open it!” Jordan froze. The knocking grew, slow and heavy. Diana pressed herself against the wall, tears streaming. “If that door opens, your life will never be the same.” Jordan pleaded, “Are you in trouble? Is someone chasing you?” Diana slid down the wall. “If you know the truth, you may hate me. If you don’t, you will die.”
Outside, a cold voice called, “Open this door, Jordan.” His blood ran cold. “How does she know my name?” Diana whispered, “Because she is not normal.” Jordan knelt beside her. “Diana, talk to me, please.” At last, she choked out the truth: “I am not fully human.” Jordan recoiled. “What do you mean?” Diana shook her head. “My real form is not this. I was born in the forest—as a snake.” Jordan staggered. “A snake?” “Yes. The snake you and your friends killed was my sister. My mother sent me to make you all pay.” The memories crashed over him—the bush, the stones, the blood. He collapsed onto the couch, trembling. “So it was you?” Diana sobbed. “I didn’t want to fall in love, but I did. Now my mother wants your life too.”
The door shook again. “Open now!” the old woman’s voice thundered. “If I force myself in, even you might not survive it.” Diana begged, “Run, Jordan. Run far away. Don’t look back.” He looked at her, then at the door. “Will that save you?” She couldn’t answer. The door cracked. Jordan grabbed Diana’s hand. “We will face it together.” Before she could reply, the door exploded open. A wild wind tore through the house. The lights flickered and died. In the darkness, Jordan saw her: an old woman with hair like black snakes, eyes glowing, staff in hand. The floor shook as she stepped forward.
“So you are the last one,” she said. “You took my friends,” Jordan stammered. “Why?” The old woman’s smile was a knife. “You killed my child first. Blood must answer blood.” Diana threw herself between them, begging, “Spare him. Take me instead.” The old woman’s laugh was poison. “You already chose your fate when you fell in love with him.”
Jordan remembered the pastor’s words, his prayers. He grabbed a small cross from the wall. “In the name of God, leave my house!” The old woman laughed, but the walls shook, the lights blazed, and for the first time, she stepped back. Diana screamed, “The cross—it’s burning her!” The old woman roared, “You think this will stop me?” She slammed her staff, the ground split, the lights died. In the darkness, cold hands closed around Jordan’s neck. He screamed, “Jesus!” Thunder shook the house. The old woman shrieked in agony, hurled backward by a force she could not see.
When the light returned, she stood at the door, breathing hard. “This is not over. Three nights from now, he must die.” She vanished into the darkness. Silence fell. Jordan lay gasping on the floor. Diana sobbed beside him. “I tried to save you.” He squeezed her hand. “You already did. But now what?” Diana shook her head. “My mother will not stop.” Jordan stood. “Then we will not wait for her. Take me to where you come from.” Diana gasped. “You mean the forest?” “Yes. If this started there, it will end there. I need to apologize to her.” Diana warned, “You may not survive.” Jordan’s eyes were tired, but resolute. “I am already living with death. I am not afraid anymore.”
That night, they drove to the edge of the forest. The road was empty, the world silent. They walked into the darkness, trees swallowing the moonlight, the air cold and thick. “Your mother lives here?” he whispered. “She has ruled this forest for many years,” Diana replied. A wind howled. On a high rock, the old woman waited, her eyes burning, staff in hand.
“You came to die,” she said. Jordan stepped forward. “I came to end this, to apologize, not to fight. Please, I’m sorry.” The old woman laughed. “You are only a weak human. You cannot fight me.” Diana dropped to her knees. “Take me instead. Leave him alone.” Jordan grabbed her hand. “No. I came here to face this.” The old woman’s voice was final. “One must die tonight. That was the agreement.” Diana stood. “Then I am ready.” Jordan shouted, “No, you will not die for me.” Diana turned, tears streaming. “I already used many lives to protect you. Now I will use mine to save you.” She touched his face. “You taught me what true love is. I cannot let you die.”
The old woman raised her staff. “So be it. Come forward, child.” Diana walked to her, her form glowing. Jordan tried to stop her, but she pulled free. “For the first time in my life, I choose my own decision.” The earth shook, a bright light surrounded Diana. “Live well,” she said to Jordan. “And do not waste your life again.” The light rose, then faded. When it was gone, so was Diana.
Jordan collapsed, sobbing. The old woman looked down. “The debt is paid.” Jordan’s voice was broken. “You have taken everything from me.” The old woman turned away. “You still have your life.” She vanished into the forest.
The next morning, Jordan woke at the forest’s edge, the sun rising, the world unchanged except for the hole in his heart. He returned home, but nothing felt the same. Days passed. Weeks passed. Jordan changed—he stopped drinking, stopped wandering the night, stopped living as if death could never touch him. He went to church, helped others, lived quietly. When people asked what happened, he only said, “I was given a second life.”
Sometimes, at night, he would look up at the stars and whisper, “Thank you, Diana.” He never forgot her sacrifice. One evening, he saw boys laughing on the same road where the snake had died. He stopped them. “Do not joke with life. Do not harm what you do not understand.” They laughed, but Jordan knew better. Some mistakes haunt forever. But when given a second chance, you must never waste it. True love is sacrifice—and a changed life is the greatest victory.
