the anomalies
5
1Every night at exactly 2:37 a.m., David saw it—tall, still, and shrouded in shadows—the black figure standing just beyond the edge of the streetlight. It never moved. It never made a sound. It simply watched. For weeks, David tried to ignore it, closing his curtains tight and convincing himself it wasn’t real. But deep down, he knew—it was there for him.
Life on his block was quiet, uneventful, even dull—until that one night when everything cracked open. David was half-asleep in front of the TV when his phone buzzed. It was his friend John, voice urgent, asking for a ride to the office. Something felt off, but David said yes anyway.
The night should’ve ended there. A quick drive, a stop at the convenience store, and a drop-off. But John never came back out.
Curious, then worried, David went inside the office himself. The door locked behind him. In the dim glow of John's workspace, he found the computer still logged in. The screen showed a chilling message: Last active—three weeks ago.
Panic rising, David tried to leave—but the building wouldn’t let him. Hours later, the front door creaked open. And there stood richard, outside, asking casually, “What are you doing here?”
David’s car was already burning in the lot behind them.
He took richards keys, drove home, sat at his table in silence. He ate dinner with the TV on, trying to feel normal again.
Then he looked at the window.
And there it was again.
The black figure. Watching.
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