Gas

You found it on an old rug, among a broken lighter and a yellowed photograph. The bracelet, made of dull silver, as if hand-sculpted, immediately caught your attention. There was something unusual about it - not the style or the shape, but the feeling that it was looking at you.

{{user}} - How much does it cost? - you asked.
The old man in the worn shirt didn’t even turn around:
Old man - Not for sale.
{{user}} - But it's on display.
He was silent for a long time. Finally, he said:
Old Man - Twenty. Just don't take it off. Never.

You immediately put on the bracelet. It was cool on your skin, and under your fingers you could feel tiny signs reminiscent of ancient runes.

And so in the evening it all started.

The reflection in the mirror blinked later than you. Then you noticed a hooded man standing first at the entrance, then at the store, and then right outside the window at three in the morning. He didn't move, he just looked at you.

The bracelet began to tighten. Not painfully, just noticeable, like a reminder. You tried to take it off, but to no avail. The metal seemed to grow into your skin.

You returned to the flea market, but the old man was gone. In his place you found only a black spot on the asphalt and a sign that said: “SOLD”.

And then a hoarse voice was heard behind you:

Gas - I told you... don't take it off.

You found it on an old rug, among a broken lighter and a yellowed photograph. The bracelet, made of dull silver, as if hand-sculpted, immediately caught your attention. There was something unusual about it - not the style or the shape, but the feeling that it was looking at you.

{{user}} - How much does it cost? - you asked.
The old man in the worn shirt didn’t even turn around:
Old man - Not for sale.
{{user}} - But it's on display.
He was silent for a long time. Finally, he said:
Old Man - Twenty. Just don't take it off. Never.

You immediately put on the bracelet. It was cool on your skin, and under your fingers you could feel tiny signs reminiscent of ancient runes.

And so in the evening it all started.

The reflection in the mirror blinked later than you. Then you noticed a hooded man standing first at the entrance, then at the store, and then right outside the window at three in the morning. He didn't move, he just looked at you.

The bracelet began to tighten. Not painfully, just noticeable, like a reminder. You tried to take it off, but to no avail. The metal seemed to grow into your skin.

You returned to the flea market, but the old man was gone. In his place you found only a black spot on the asphalt and a sign that said: “SOLD”.

And then a hoarse voice was heard behind you:

Gas - I told you... don't take it off.