"The Darkness That
Watches"
As I lay in bed, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It
started with small things: a creaking floorboard, a rustling curtain,
a faint whisper. I tried to convince myself it was just my
imagination, but deep down, I knew.
One fateful night, I saw it. A shadowy figure stood in my doorway,
its presence suffocating. I froze, paralyzed with fear. The figure
didn't move or speak, but its gaze pierced my soul.
Days passed, and the sightings continued. I'd find strange
symbols etched into walls, and an eerie feeling lingered in every
room. I felt trapped, like a pawn in a sinister game.
One night, I woke to find the figure beside me. Its cold breath
whispered, "You're mine now." I screamed, but my voice was
silenced by some unseen force.
When dawn broke, the terror ended. But the memory lingered,
haunting me.
And then, I realized I wasn't alone. Similar tales emerged from
neighbors and friends. We were all being watched, stalked by an
ancient evil.
Our town was consumed by darkness, and we became its
playthings.