When I first saw it, I thought it was just a strange branch. The sun was scorching that afternoon, the ground cracked beneath my feet, and I was wandering through an abandoned valley, collecting dry wood for my craft project. 🌞 Not for a single moment did I imagine that on that day, I would find something that would visit me again and again in my dreams.
I remember exactly how it began. I was walking along a narrow path when something crunched lightly under my boot. Curious, I looked down and saw what appeared to be a heart-shaped, twisted branch — thin, elongated, almost horn-like. It was so oddly beautiful, as if nature itself had carved it from bone. I bent down, brushed off the dust, and picked it up.
The moment my fingers touched it, a cold shiver ran through me. It wasn’t the rough texture of wood. It felt… smooth, like skin left too long under the sun. I turned it over in my hands, tracing its delicate ridges. That’s when I noticed them — two tiny, dark dots near the base. 👁️👁️
At first, I thought they were just bits of hardened sap or marks from the plant’s surface. But then, impossibly, they blinked.
I gasped and dropped it at once. It landed upright on the sand — and moved. Just slightly, but enough for my heart to stop. It twitched again, the curved hooks flexing like limbs awakening from a long sleep. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I stood frozen, unable to look away. In that instant, I knew — this was no branch. It was alive. 😱
My first thought was that it might be some kind of mutant insect, a desert creature unknown to science. But its movements were too deliberate, too cautious — not the erratic twitching of an insect. It moved like something that remembered how to live. My throat went dry. I whispered, “What are you?”
The creature froze. Then, one of its curved “arms” lifted slowly and pointed toward me. For a heartbeat, I felt ridiculous, staring at a piece of dried fruit as if it were alive. But when its shadow stretched across the ground, forming the exact shape of a heart, a chill rippled down my spine. 💔 It wasn’t random — it knew I was watching.
I took a step back. The thing began crawling toward me, silently, gracefully. The movements were smooth, yet unnatural — as though bones and sinew lay hidden beneath its surface. When it stopped just a few inches from my boot, it lifted itself slightly, and those dark eyes glinted in the sunlight, focused directly on mine.
Then came a sound — not quite a whisper, not quite a breath. A faint vibration in the air, carrying a single word. “Finally.”
I stumbled backward, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t. The creature tapped the earth twice with its hooks. Dust rose in spirals, swirling around it. In that haze, I saw faces, symbols, shifting marks that vanished before I could make sense of them.
Then, silence.
I grabbed a nearby stick, desperate to prove to myself that it wasn’t alive — that it was just some strange seedpod or desert plant. But as I reached out, it began to collapse inward, folding on itself like a dying flower. Tiny pores along its body closed one after another until it became still again — nothing but a brittle husk.
I waited. Ten seconds. Thirty. A full minute. Nothing. I picked it up again carefully. No warmth. No movement. Just a dry, papery texture. Maybe I was hallucinating, I thought. Maybe the heat had tricked my mind.
And then it pulsed.
A single, deep movement — like a heartbeat. The hooks tightened around my fingers, not enough to hurt, but enough to make me freeze. Its eyes opened again, wide and shining — not black this time, but amber, glowing faintly like molten honey. I screamed and tried to shake it off, but it clung harder, its curved limbs gripping my wrist like claws.
Suddenly, images flooded my mind — vast dunes, endless storms, thousands of identical beings moving beneath the sand, whispering as one. Then came the voice again, not through my ears but deep inside my skull.
“You found me. Now I see through you.” 🌪️
And just as suddenly, the pressure vanished. The creature fell to the ground, lifeless once more. My wrist was red, marked as though burned. I rubbed the skin, then kicked sand over it and ran, faster than I’ve ever run, never daring to look back.
When I reached the village, I told no one. Who would believe me? That night, I couldn’t sleep. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw that heart-shaped shadow moving closer — silent, patient.
The next morning, I looked at my wrist. The redness had faded, but in its place were two faint marks, curved like hooks. When the sunlight touched them, they glowed for a moment — then disappeared.
Weeks passed. Yet sometimes, when I’m alone, I still feel something beneath my skin — a faint twitch, a tiny pulse that doesn’t match my heartbeat. And in the darkness behind my eyelids, I see two glowing amber lights staring back at me. 👁️🗨️
Once, I went back to that valley. I needed to know if it had been real. Everything looked the same — the cracked soil, the silent wind, the endless emptiness. But they were there. Dozens of them, scattered across the ground like dried leaves, their hooks pointing toward the sky.
When the wind blew, they seemed to stir ever so slightly, all turning in the same direction. 💨
Toward me.
Since that day, I’ve never returned. But I know they’re still there.
And I know — they’re still watching. 👁️
