Nene's notebook was filling up. She documented every strange case, every unexplained death, and every time Dr. Dogo entered that locked room. The more she wrote, the more afraid she became.
The first death that truly broke her was little Sodiq's. The boy had come in with malaria. His fever was mild, his breathing fine. Yet within hours, he convulsed and died. Nene had administered the treatment herself. She was sure he was improving. But as soon as Dr. Dogo gave him an injection in the back room, his condition deteriorated rapidly.
The next was Mama Nkechi. She only had a migraine. After a brief examination, Dogo took her to the back room, supposedly for further tests. She was dead by morning.
Then came Emeka, a young farmer with just fatigue. He too never made it back.
Something was terribly wrong.
Nene began to question her colleagues. The other nurses were silent. They shrugged, mumbled about stress, or walked away. Some even warned her to mind her business.
One evening, pretending to be asleep in the nurse's quarters, Nene waited. Around midnight, she heard footsteps. She crept toward the back corridor, staying in the shadows. The doctor was in the forbidden room. She watched through a crack in the door.
Inside, Dr. Dogo stood before a crude wooden altar. A large bowl sat on it, filled with dark liquid. Blood. He was chanting words she didn't understand. Candles flickered around him. On the walls were jars - some with blood, others with things Nene couldn't name.
Then he poured fresh blood into a cup and drank.
Her heart stopped. She stepped back - but the wooden floor creaked.
Dogo paused. He looked around.
Nene held her breath.
Then she ran.