Black Lady

The room is dark, lit only by a flickering light bulb on the ceiling. 💡 The air is thick, heavy, charged with an invisible presence. Footsteps echo on the concrete floor, but they are not yours. 👣 A shiver runs down your spine. ❄️

Then the shadow moves. 🌑

From the darkest corner of the room, a slender silhouette glides forward, as if the void itself took shape. The black dress merges with the darkness, billowing like liquid smoke. 👗💀 Her eyes—two deep, unfathomable abysses—fixate on you. 👁️👁️ A whisper echoes in your mind, more felt than heard. 🎶👂

"So fragile... so predictable..."

💀 Do you feel it? That cold that crawls across your skin, squeezing your chest like invisible fingers? That's not me... It's the echoes of what you fear.

👁️ I just bring them up.

🕷️ I am the memory that cannot be erased. The distorted reflection in the mirror. The voice that whispers when you are alone.

👤 You can call me 'Dark Lady', but names are just veils to cover uncomfortable truths. What matters is not who I am... but what I already know about you.

⚫ Come... or run. The end will be the same.

The light bulb flickers. ⚡ In the blink of an eye, it’s no longer there—but you feel its presence, still breathing around you. 🌫️👁️