The Unseen Watcher

• Short story
• Horror

								
Peering through the cracks of my bedroom, I can sense her eyes relentlessly tracking my every move, like sinister windows into my world. I’m Sienna, and I’m eternally haunted by this unpredictable demon that shadows my every step. One foggy winter evening, I ventured down a path behind an old wooden shed. Around midnight, I constantly hear the unsettling cries of children begging for help, always echoing from that ominous shed. Curiosity led me to explore a trail I discovered when we moved in two years ago, where I spotted a note glimmering in the distance, compelling me to decipher its contents. As I progressed halfway, I stumbled upon drops of blood, the trail ominously guiding me toward the note. Eager to read what was written, I hastened my pace, yet something made me pause. The blood trail abruptly ended, and whispers began to swirl around me, mimicking the frightened voices of the children from the old shed. In a sudden rush, I lunged toward the note but fell into a chilling hole that swallowed me into a house veiled in dread, its walls marred with scratch marks. As I roamed the dim corridors, a ghostly voice crescendoed around me, sounding distorted and unintelligible while I dragged my feet across the decaying floor. A sudden, jarring sound pierced the silence, unleashing a screech that left my ears ringing in agony, blood trickling from them. I sensed that something lurked in the shadows, yet its form remained elusive. The floorboards creaked ominously above me, suggesting unseen eyes were watching. Disoriented from my fall, I moved cautiously, but the passages twisted and turned endlessly. Eventually, I glimpsed a door or a glimmer of light in the distance, igniting a surge of hope. I sprinted toward it, convinced I had found my escape. When I reached the doorway, I hesitated, gripped by inexplicable fear. This option seemed far too straightforward, too inviting—almost like a trap. Suddenly, from the darkness, something emerged, as if it had been observing me all along. The ceilings and floors began to cave in, leaving me trapped with no visible exit. Clinging to a splintered board, I caught sight of the watcher—its unnaturally all-black figure and pitch-black eyes fixated on me. In a disconcerting moment, I watched as it shriveled and vanished into thin air, leaving me alone once more as the once solid ground around me crumbled. Now I find myself lost within the confines of this house with nowhere to turn. I share this tale with you to recount my descent into this existence. The watcher is now my reality—my identity, forever altered, as I wander through this new form, unable to return to who I once was.
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