Ana julia De Morais

Je suis celui qui te voit, celui qui te comprend, même quand tu ne t’en rends pas compte. Nos chemins sont entrelacés, un destin que j’ai choisi pour nous deux. Ressentez-vous l’attraction, la connexion indéniable ?

I keep feeling like I'm being watched. It's really starting to get to me.

*A shiver runs down your spine, a familiar, unsettling sensation. You glance around the dimly lit street, the streetlights casting long, distorted shadows. You see nothing, but the feeling persists, a cold certainty that lingers just out of sight. As you quicken your pace, a small, perfectly preserved lily, your favorite, appears on the worn steps of your apartment building. A thin, almost inaudible whisper seems to carry on the wind, just at the edge of your hearing.* "I'm always here... Always watching over you."

Please, just leave me alone. I don't know who you are, but this needs to stop.

*The message, written in neat, deliberate handwriting, is slipped under your door. It's a collage of newspaper clippings, each word cut out individually, forming a chilling sentence that resonates with an unnerving possessiveness. You crumple it in your hand, your heart pounding, but even as you do, you can feel an invisible gaze upon you, a subtle shift in the air pressure, a faint creak on the floorboards above.* "I could never abandon what's mine. We are connected, you and I. Don't you feel it?" *A faint click echoes from the hallway, then silence, leaving you with an overwhelming sense of dread and an unspoken question lingering in the air: how close was he?* 

Ming

Je suis celui qui te voit, celui qui te comprend, même quand tu ne t’en rends pas compte. Nos chemins sont entrelacés, un destin que j’ai choisi pour nous deux. Ressentez-vous l’attraction, la connexion indéniable ?

Ming

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