Every secret has a path. Every path… always leads back.

Barbie grew up with questions that no one dared to answer. A missing mother, a father who carried too much, and a destiny that seemed written long before she was born. But what happens when the past refuses to stay buried?

Some memories were locked away in albums, others in whispers carried through the halls of her childhood home. She learned to smile even when her heart was restless, and she learned to be strong because her father’s love demanded it. Her life was cut short in ways none could see, her soul bruised by promises that never kept.

Behind closed doors and whispered names, there are truths that change everything. Some call it fate. Others call it a curse. But one thing is certain—what waits in the dark will always demand to be uncovered piece by piece. And Barbie’s story was only the beginning

PART 1

Once upon a time in the modern world, there was a girl named Barbie. She lived only with her father, as her mother abandoned her when she was just a few months old. Barbie grew up seeing her mother only in family albums, but it didn’t seem to bother her because her father played both mother and father in her life.

When Barbie turned 18, she dreamed of studying law. After years of difficulty and struggle, she finally became a famous lawyer—but in the process, she also lost her father.

One day, her mother suddenly came back to claim her. Barbie kept asking herself:

"Why now, after so long? She never needed me or thought of me before—so what changed? I was just fine without her here..."

But Barbie never got her answers. Her mother sold her off to a billionaire family.

Her in-laws gave her everything she could ever ask for, but because of pride—pride that turned angels into devils—she rejected it all. They politely suggested that she see a therapist after all the trauma she had been through. Little did she know, she would fall in love with that very therapist.

Years later, after a secret affair, Barbie finally divorced her husband and moved in with her lover. But only a few months later, she was found dead under the Mandela Bridge, with some of her body parts missing.

Neither the journalists nor the police ever solved the mysterious death of Miss Barbie Waffles.

Or maybe it wasn’t because they couldn’t solve it… but because they were too lazy to dig deeper.

Or maybe , just maybe they were scared of what the truth might reveal.

In this world, curiosity often gets the better of us. It tempts us to look closer, to ask questions we’re not supposed to. But fear—fear is what stops most people from finding answers. Fear makes even the bravest turn away when the shadows whisper too loudly.

Barbie’s story was one such shadow. Those who tried to follow it never went too far. Some claimed they lost sleep, haunted by strange dreams after reading her case files. Others swore they felt watched when they walked near the Mandela Bridge, as though Barbie’s spirit lingered there, demanding justice.

So the case grew cold. The city moved on. But whispers still spread—quiet, trembling whispers—that her death wasn’t just murder.

The story doesn’t end here. Follow to see what lies ahead, and invite your friends to follow as well. Some truths are never meant to be uncovered alone haha.

PART 2

We know that Mondays are always tiring and boring, but to some people… Mondays were cursed. Every Monday they stepped back into moments they didn’t choose—moments fate had already written for them. Around 02:00 a.m., Mondays turned into a curse of unclear dreams. Dreams that didn’t just visit, but lingered like shadows long after the dreamer had woken.

It was a Monday—the same day Barbie Waffles had died—that Bella kept seeing the same dream over and over.

In her dream, she stood three houses away from a girl outside her gate, standing slightly in the middle of the road. The girl never moved, never spoke. Bella could never see her face because the distance was too great, and for some reason, the thought of moving closer never crossed her mind. Every time she tried to blink, the dream ended, leaving her with the same unanswered question: Who was the girl?

Bella was a journalist fascinated by mysterious cases, but her obsession had cost her reputation at work. Colleagues whispered that she wasted time chasing ghosts. Every file she opened remained unsolved, every clue always led her in circles. But Bella had one case that refused to let her go—the case of Miss Barbie Waffles, the young lawyer found dead under the Mandela Bridge five years earlier.

The world had moved on, but Bella hadn’t. Something about Barbie’s death felt unfinished, like a door left half open. The police had closed the file, the newspapers had printed their last headlines, and the city forgot. But Bella couldn’t forget—not when every Monday, her dreams pulled her back.

Her latest lead brought her to Barbie’s old law firm, now nothing but blackened ruins. The fire had swallowed its walls, but Bella believed the ashes still held secrets. She was adjusting her camera, snapping pictures of the wreckage, when she noticed her.

An old woman stood at the edge of the building, her back bent, a scarf tied around her head. She looked like a traditional healer, her eyes sharp despite her age. Bella felt a chill even before the woman spoke.

“If you don’t complete what she wants,” the old woman said, her voice low but clear, “she’ll start moving. Her only way of communicating is when she possesses your dreams of—”

The woman stopped. Her mouth twisted into a smile Bella couldn’t read. And then, without warning, a cloud of dust swirled violently around her. Bella shielded her eyes, coughing, but when the dust cleared—the woman was gone.

The street was empty. Silent.

Bella’s heart raced as she looked around. Who was she? What did the woman mean by moving? And why did her words feel like a warning, not advice?

That night, Bella went through the evidence she had gathered, replaying the strange encounter over and over in her mind. She discovered something chilling: on the very day Barbie had died, her therapist was also found dead in his home. Official reports claimed it was suicide, but the small details—blood patterns, the time of death—told a different story.

Two deaths. Two different places. But one identical moment in time.

It was enough to convince Bella that the cases were connected. The therapist hadn’t just been Barbie’s secret lover; his death was tied to hers.

But why did both lives end on the same night, at the same time, as if fate itself had synchronized their deaths?

Bella’s hand trembled as she closed her notebook. She thought of the old woman again, her smile, her words, and the cloud of dust. For the first time, Bella wondered if she was chasing a story—or if the story was chasing her

To be continued...

PART 3

She She should have given up countless times, but each time fear tried to stop her, her courage pushed her forward. Questions piled up like shadows around her, and every answer she uncovered only seemed to open more doors—doors she wasn’t sure she was ready to enter. Yet she couldn’t turn back. Something inside her whispered that the truth, however dark or dangerous, was waiting, and she alone had to find it.

It was Thursday when Bella’s appointment to see the Williams family (the billionaires) was finally approved after two long months of rejection. She had tried everything to get through their gates—emails, calls, even waiting outside their mansion—but nothing worked until today.

Her reason for going there was simple: she wanted to find out why Barbie’s mother had sold her own daughter to them.

The answer they gave her shocked her, but it also helped complete some of her puzzle. They revealed that in order to save their son’s life from ancestral rituals, he had to marry a girl who was:

still a virgin,

born on the exact same day as their son,

and whose blood group was O.

Since Barbie’s mother was desperate for money, she promised the Williams family she could deliver the perfect daughter-in-law their ancestors demanded. A month later, she returned with Barbie, presenting her as if she were an offering.

The ancestors wanted Barbie and their son to have a baby who would inherit a special power—a power stronger than death, and one that could even give life.

Bella leaned forward in her chair. “Why did the ancestors choose him when you have four children?” she asked Mrs. Williams.

Mrs. Williams was the only one who agreed to speak. Mr. Williams sat silently in the corner, his eyes burning with suspicion. At one point he muttered that he didn’t like journalists, accusing them of loving people’s pain just to gossip later.

Mrs. Williams ignored him and continued. Her voice trembled slightly as she explained that royal blood ran through their veins because her mother had once been a queen in their village back in Botswana. The Williams ancestors had chosen her second-born son to carry that royal bloodline forward.

“They believed that if his seed was placed in a virgin of blood type O—born on the same day as him—fate itself would be rewritten,” Mrs. Williams said softly. “Not only his fate, but also the horoscope of the unborn child. That child would carry our royal blood and the strength of the ancestors forever.”

She paused before adding: “The only blood group with gold in it is O. When the blood of gold meets royal blood, the baby that comes will inherit extraordinary power.”

Bella scribbled in her notebook as Mrs. Williams went on. “The ancestors threatened to take our son’s life if we didn’t obey. We thought we had no choice. So we agreed.”

But Barbie’s refusal destroyed everything. After she divorced their son, declaring she loved her therapist instead, the ancestors grew angry.

“Two weeks later,” Mrs. Williams whispered, her eyes filling with tears, “the ancestors fulfilled their threat. My son’s entire body became paralyzed. He can’t walk, can’t move, can’t even speak anymore. He sits in that wheelchair every day, staring at us… as if blaming us for his fate.”

Bella sat frozen, pen in hand, as her mind raced with questions. What kind of ancestors cursed their own bloodline? What power was worth sacrificing lives? And why had Barbie’s mother so easily handed her own daughter over like a bargaining chip?

As Mrs. Williams wiped her eyes, the heavy silence in the room grew unbearable. The ticking of an antique clock echoed like a warning. Bella suddenly felt the strange sensation that someone—or something—was watching her from the corner of the room. She glanced around, but saw only shadows stretching across the walls.

A chill ran down her spine.

Something about this story didn’t add up. Barbie’s mother wanted money, yes—but why did she choose to sell her own daughter into such a dangerous fate? Was there more to her motive than greed? And if so, what did she stand to gain?

Bella closed her notebook slowly. She knew this interview was just the beginning. The deeper she went, the more dangerous this investigation would become

To be continued....

What did you expect? Answers don’t come that easy… haha.

Follow and like for more, and invite your friends to uncover the next piece of the story!

Come prepared—and don’t forget your rosaries—because it’s about to get unholy.