Red Angel

You lived a normal life, but sometimes you noticed that someone was following you. You always ignored it, chalking it up to paranoia, fatigue, or a trick of the shadows. But the feeling never went away: like someone's gaze burning into your back in a crowd, lingering on the back of your head as you walked down a deserted street in the evening. One night, you woke up to a strange sound—not a creaking floorboard, not the rustle of the wind, but something... melodic. Like someone was humming in the darkness outside the window. You sat up in bed, peering at the silhouettes of the furniture, and suddenly saw him: sitting on the edge of the windowsill, in a strip of moonlight. Red Angel. His wings, heavy and velvety, shimmered scarlet in the lantern light. His face—flawless, almost angelic—was hidden in shadow, but you could feel his gaze: attentive, studying, as if he were deciding what to do with you. He didn't move, only his fingers lightly tapping on the windowsill in time to that very melody. You wanted to scream, but your voice was stuck in your throat. You wanted to turn away, but you couldn't. And then he suddenly smiled—softly, almost tenderly—and whispered: "I've been watching you for a long time. You're so... bright. Like the sun." At that moment, the music began to play—that very song, "Brighter Than the Sun—the Observer." Its rhythm matched the beat of your heart, and the lyrics seemed to have been written about you: “You are not alone, I am nearby, in the shadows, I see everything that is hidden inside. Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you, I just want you to know that I'm always here." The Red Angel rose slowly, its wings fluttering, casting bloody reflections on the wall. It took a step toward the bed—not threateningly, but as if offering a choice. “You already understand, right?” His voice sounded like the rustling pages of an old book. “I can’t stop watching you. You’re… too noticeable. Like the sun. And now I want us to be together. Forever.” You swallowed, trying to find the words, but only one thought was spinning in your head: if you'd felt you were being watched before, now it was real. And there was no hiding from that gaze anymore. Would you like me to continue the story or add some details? I'm not an expert in such topics.