On a night where the moon was timidly hiding behind a blanket of thick clouds, a solitary man stood in an empty playground, lighting a cigarette. The darkness surrounded him like a sinister cloak, and only the faint glow of his cigarette broke the blackness. He knew that park well, he spent a lot of time there, and for that reason he knew that he was breaking the rules by smoking in that place, but he didn’t care. There was no one to stop him, or so he thought.
As he exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes landed on a nearby sign. It had the image of a terrifying eye and a chilling message: “Don’t break the rules.” The man frowned, feeling as if the sign was looking at him disapprovingly. He shook his head to clear those absurd thoughts and continued smoking, watching the surroundings carefully, many children had disappeared in that park in the last few months.
Days later, the man’s paranoia increased with each visit to the playground. The presence of the signs seemed to follow him everywhere, as if they were constantly watching him. Every time he lit a cigarette, he felt the questioning gaze of those terrifying eyes on him, judging him for his defiance of the rules.
He tried to ignore the growing fear that consumed him, telling himself that they were just signs and that they couldn’t hurt him. However, the feeling of being constantly watched began to affect his sanity. He began to avoid the park, but no matter where he went, he always seemed to find piercing eyes watching him from afar.
He couldn’t understand why he felt so haunted by simple signs, but every time he closed his eyes, the images of the signs haunted his dreams. The thought that they were plotting against him took hold of him, turning every moment into a battle against his own thoughts.
Posters with creepy eyes began to appear everywhere he went, on the streets, at his workplace, even on the walls of his own home. He felt like those eyes followed him everywhere, as if they were constantly watching him.
The messages on the posters seemed to become increasingly personal, as if they were directed specifically at him. “We know what you did,” “You won’t be able to escape,” “Rules are there for a reason.” The man began to feel harassed, scared by the intensity with which the posters looked at him.
He tried to escape that overwhelming pressure, escaping in the middle of the night from his home in a desperate attempt to escape. The night had grown even colder, enveloping the man in an icy embrace as he walked through the deserted streets, trying to escape the piercing gaze of the signs. Every corner he turned seemed to take him deeper into the abyss of that surreal world where eyes watched him relentlessly.
His footsteps echoed in the silence of the night, accompanied by the ominous echo of his own labored breathing. The man felt as if he were being dragged into an unfathomable darkness, where reality was blurring and the boundaries between what was and what was not were fading.
In his frantic search to escape, the man found himself trapped in narrow, labyrinthine alleys, where the posters with their disturbing eyes seemed to multiply with every step he took. His heart pounded, filling his ears with the sound of his own anguish as he walked deeper and deeper into the darkness.
Finally, exhausted and desperate, he found refuge in an abandoned bathroom in a forgotten alley. But as he closed the door behind him, he realized with horror that he was not alone. The bathroom had become a twisted extension of that distorted world, where the posters with their watchful eyes surrounded him from all angles.
The flickering light of the old fluorescent lamp barely illuminated the claustrophobic space, casting grotesque shadows on the poster-covered walls. The man felt trapped in an endless nightmare, where every dark corner seemed to whisper to him his worst fears.
Fleeing from that spectacle of shadows, the man suddenly found himself in a dead end, surrounded by the signs that seemed to get closer and closer. The eyes on the signs glowed with sinister malice, and mocking laughter filled the air, as if mocking their desperation.
The man, trapped in that surreal space full of posters that seemed to have a life of their own, struggled to maintain his sanity as the days slowly slipped by. The lack of food and water began to take its toll on his already weakened mind, and his thoughts became increasingly darker and more confused.
His attempts to find a way out became more desperate, but each alley seemed to lead him back to the same hopeless point. He clung to the thin hope of being rescued, but as time passed without any sign of help, that hope faded like a sigh in the wind.
The man was torn between moments of lucidity and episodes of complete disorientation, where the posters seemed to close the ring around him, whispering promises of eternal damnation. Reality was blurring before his tired eyes, and the line between what was real and what wasn’t became increasingly blurred.
In his agony, the man began to succumb to despair and delirium. The posters taunted him with their ominous messages, feeding his fear and paranoia until he couldn’t take it anymore. He sank into self-destruction, unable to resist the crushing pressure surrounding him.
Desperate to find a way out, the man clung to what fragile hope he still had, the days faded away in a haze of pain and anguish, and finally, when he could no longer bear the torment, the man surrendered to the darkness. that had consumed him completely.
And so, weeks later, when his absence became too obvious to ignore, those who knew him could only wonder what had become of him. Meanwhile, on the door of his house, one last sign had appeared, with a chilling message that made clear the fate of the man lost in the shadows: “Thank you for not smoking anymore.”
His photograph began to be seen around the city next to the word “lost”, along with all those children who disappeared in recent months, almost as if it were a cruel joke, a man lost like a child who was separated from his mother and A cruel entity took him to a place from which he would never leave, a macabre presence that enjoyed hunting weak prey, moving among the shadows, where the only indicator of his presence was only the weak glow of his cigarette that broke the blackness of the night. .