_________.____________ ____ __. _________ _____ ________ / _____/| \_ ___ \| |/ _| / _____/ / _ \ \______ \ \_____ \ | / \ \/| < \_____ \ / /_\ \ | | \ / \| \ \___| | \ / \/ | \| ` \ /_______ /|___|\______ /____|__ \ /_______ /\____|__ /_______ / \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ __ __________ __________.____ ________ / \ / \_____ \\______ \ | \______ \ \ \/\/ // | \| _/ | | | \ \ // | \ | \ |___ | ` \ \__/\ / \_______ /____|_ /_______ \/_______ / \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ .--. .-'. .--. .--. .--. .--. .`-. .--. :::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\ ' `--' `.-' `--' `--' `--' `-.' `--' ` ISSUE 006 .--. .-'. .--. .--. .--. .--. .`-. .--. :::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\ ' `--' `.-' `--' `--' `--' `-.' `--' ` oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo ->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->-> Vanishing On a foggy, moonless night, Natasha's footsteps echoed through the mist, leaving the cacophony of the club behind. It was late, or perhaps it was early; that ambiguous hour when the night is at its darkest and the world seems to hold its breath. The air was damp and cold, seeping through her clothes, making her shiver as she hurried along the deserted streets. The fog seemed to play tricks on her eyes. Shadows moved and swayed in the periphery, creating forms that weren't there – or were they? The streetlights, cloaked in mist, cast a ghostly glow, painting the world in hues of orange and grey. The city, usually so vibrant, felt abandoned, as if she were the last soul left on Earth. As Natasha ventured further, the silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional distant sound – a cat's meow, the rustle of leaves, a window shutter banging in the wind. Each noise made her jump, her heart racing with a mix of fear and adrenaline. The shadows began to morph, becoming more distinct, more menacing. They seemed to have a life of their own, moving against the logic of light and physics. At times, they resembled human forms, contorted and twisted, disappearing just as she tried to focus on them. Then, amidst the shifting shadows, a figure emerged. It was a silhouette, darker than the night itself, faceless and void of any human feature. The figure glitched like a broken image, flickering in and out of existence, moving towards her in spasmodic jerks. Its presence was an anomaly, a tear in the fabric of reality, defying the natural order of things. Natasha's heart pounded in her chest, her instincts screaming at her to run, but her feet were for now rooted to the spot. The figure's movements were erratic, its form constantly changing, never quite there yet undeniably present. It was a manifestation of the surreal, nightmarish world she had stumbled into. As the figure approached, Natasha felt a coldness seep into her bones, a chill that was more than just physical. It was as if the figure was draining the very essence of her being, pulling her into the shadowy realm it inhabited. In a moment of terror-fueled adrenaline, Natasha turned and ran. The streets twisted and turned in impossible ways, the fog growing thicker, obscuring her path. The sounds of the city were now distant memories, replaced by the echo of her footsteps and the erratic, glitching whispers of her pursuer. Her pace quickened, a sense of urgency driving her. The fog grew thicker, enveloping her in a claustrophobic embrace. It was then she noticed the absence of familiar landmarks. Streets and buildings had taken on a strange, unrecognizable appearance, as though the city itself had been transformed into an alien landscape. With each step, Natasha felt the grip of an invisible force, pulling her deeper into a world that was both familiar and utterly foreign. The air grew colder, the fog denser, and the silence more profound. It was as if the very fabric of reality was unraveling, leaving her in a limbo between the world she knew and one that defied explanation. With each step, Natasha felt herself fading, her memories becoming blurred, her identity slipping away. She was becoming part of this shadow world, her existence merging with the endless night. The vibrant life she once knew was now just a fleeting thought, a dream slipping through her fingers. In her heart, she knew she had strayed too far, crossed a boundary into a realm where the rules of her world no longer applied. This shadow realm, a mirror of her own, was a place of lost souls and eternal twilight. Here, the figures in the fog were more than just shadows; they were the inhabitants of this parallel existence, distorted echoes of reality. As the last remnants of her former self began to dissolve, Natasha realized that she was no longer running. She was drifting, a ghostly presence in a world devoid of color, sound, and life. Her thoughts, her fears, her very sense of self were fading into the obscurity of this new existence. In this shadow realm, Natasha became a specter, a lost soul wandering the streets of a world that was both familiar and utterly alien. She had become one with the darkness, a part of the eternal twilight that engulfed this parallel plane of existence. Her story, her life, her very essence were now nothing but whispers in the fog, echoes of a life once lived in a world now forever beyond her reach. ->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->->- oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo oo1oo .--. .-'. .--. .--. .--. .--. .`-. .--. :::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\ ' `--' `.-' `--' `--' `--' `-.' `--' ` ! Produced by I HATE IT HERE - https://www.tengushee.com/ihih ! | #FAEWAVE #ERIS .--. .-'. .--. .--. .--. .--. .`-. .--. :::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\::::::::.\ ' `--' `.-' `--' `--' `--' `-.' `--' ` EOF