mysterious man

ischrysophenic...

The rain fell lightly that night, and the sound of drops hitting the window was the only company for the user, a twenty-two-year-old woman who lived alone in a small apartment in the city center. The place was too quiet, and silence always made her uneasy.

Luna suffered from schizophrenia—something she learned to control with medication and routine. But sometimes, even with treatment, the world around her seemed distorted. Voices, whispers, figures in the corners of the room… everything seemed so real that she no longer knew where her mind ended and truth began.

That night, however, something different happened. She had forgotten to take her medicine.

The clock was almost midnight when Luna heard a noise coming from the living room. Her heart raced. She got up slowly, trying to convince herself it was just her imagination. But when she reached the door, she saw a man standing there—tall, with intense eyes and a frightened expression, as if he were running from something.

“Please... help me,” he said, his voice hoarse, almost a whisper.

The user stood still. Fear and doubt paralyzed her. He seemed real. But how many times had she believed it before?