I always thought it was strange that I couldn’t remember anything about my childhood. No memories of playing with friends or going on family vacations. It was like my life started when I turned 18.
But one day, while cleaning out my parent’s attic, I found an old photo album. As I flipped through the pages, I saw pictures of myself as a baby, as a toddler, as a young child. I felt a sense of relief, as if I had found a missing piece of myself.
But as I continued to look through the album, I began to notice something odd. In every single photo of myself, there was a figure standing in the background. A tall, shadowy figure with no discernible features.
I asked my parents about it, but they had no explanation. They claimed they couldn’t remember anything about the figure in the photos.
Ever since then, I’ve had a feeling that something is watching me. It’s like that figure from my childhood photos has followed me into adulthood, and it’s always lurking just out of sight. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s waiting for something.
The feeling of being watched only grew stronger as the days passed. I started seeing glimpses of the shadowy figure everywhere I went - in the corner of my eye, in reflections, even in my dreams.
I tried to ignore it, but the figure seemed to be getting bolder. Sometimes it would move so close that I could feel its icy breath on the back of my neck. Other times it would whisper things to me, things I couldn’t quite make out but that filled me with a sense of dread.
I started to become paranoid, afraid to leave my house or even turn off the lights at night. And then, one evening, I saw the figure standing in my living room. It was no longer just a shadowy outline - it had taken on a more solid form, with gleaming eyes and razor-sharp claws.
I froze, unable to move as it approached me. I could hear its low growls and feel its hot breath on my face. I closed my eyes, expecting the worst, but when I opened them again, the figure was gone.
But it had left something behind. In the center of my living room floor was a single, bloody claw mark - a clear warning that it was still watching, still waiting. And I knew then that I was in grave danger.
I spent the next few days in a constant state of terror, never sure when the shadowy figure would strike again. I barely slept, barely ate, barely left my house.
And then, one night, I heard a soft scratching sound coming from outside my bedroom window. I cautiously approached the window, heart pounding in my chest, and peered out.
There it was - the shadowy figure, perched on the windowsill, its glowing eyes fixed on me. In that moment, I knew I had to do something - anything - to protect myself.
I reached for the nearest thing at hand, a heavy book, and flung it at the figure. It struck it with a sickening thud, and the figure let out a chilling screech before disappearing into the darkness.
I thought I was safe. I thought I had won. But then I heard a voice - a voice that sounded like it was coming from inside my head. It said only two words:
“You’re next.”
And that’s when I realized that the figure was not just a figment of my imagination - it was a physical manifestation of my deepest fears and darkest thoughts. And now that it had been unleashed, there was no stopping it.
I never saw the shadowy figure again, but I could feel its presence with me every moment of every day. I knew that it was always watching, always waiting for me to slip up, to let my guard down.
And then, one day, I simply disappeared. No one knows what happened to me - whether I was abducted, murdered, or simply vanished into thin air. But I know the truth - I was taken by the shadowy figure, the one that had been waiting for me all my life.
And now, I am part of it - a shadowy figure myself, lurking in the shadows, waiting for my next victim.