Kursach by Magomet Tuskaev

sketchfab

They're watching me. I feel it. It's like a cold wind that whispers my name in the dead of night. They know everything about me. My secrets, my desires, my deepest fears. They see right through me, into the very soul of who I am. I try to shake off the feeling, but it's no use. I'm trapped in this endless loop of paranoia and fear. Every move I make is watched, every word I say is listened to. I feel like a rat in a maze, searching for an escape that never comes. But what if I'm not just paranoid? What if they really are watching me? What if I've been living in a lie this whole time? The thought sends shivers down my spine. I try to push it away, but it's too late. The seed of doubt has been planted, and it's growing fast. I look around me, trying to see if anyone is watching. But everyone seems normal, oblivious to the fact that I'm being watched. Or are they? The question hangs in the air, taunting me with its uncertainty. Am I really being watched, or am I just losing my mind?