I found myself standing at the edge of my bed, heart pounding in my chest. As I looked down, I was greeted by a sight that chilled me to my core: my body lay sleeping, but it wasn’t quite—me. My limbs appeared grotesquely elongated, stretching far beyond the realm of human proportions. My skin shone like porcelain, unnaturally smooth, like that of a lifeless doll. And my eyes—oh, those eyes—were wide and empty, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Then, an otherworldly smile crept across my face—not my smile, but a hideous grin that twisted upon the passive features of the figure on the bed. Just then, clock, clock, clock—my alarm shattered the silence. “Just another stupid nightmare,” I muttered, attempting to shake the dread that clung to me.
Later that night, at exactly 3:03 a.m., an unsettling feeling washed over me. I sensed a presence, a gaze penetrating the veil of my dreams. I opened my eyes slowly, and there it was— a silhouette looming at the foot of my bed. Fear coursed through me as I shut my eyes tightly, reciting Ayatul Kursi, praying for the darkness to fade. Then—clock, clock, clock—my alarm rang again, yanking me from the abyss. “Another stupid nightmare,” I insisted, though the unease settled in my bones.
From that night onward, the dreams became a relentless cycle. Each iteration mirrored the last, a haunting tableau of myself lying in bed with that shadowy figure watching. But with every dream, the contours of its face became clearer, revealing more of its identity, until one night it happened—the final revelation.
Her face emerged before me, and I gasped; it was—me. My own reflection stared back with terror etched across her features, eyes wide and filled with despair, clutching her chest as though she had witnessed something unspeakable. Panic seized me as I looked down at my arms; they were grotesquely elongated, just like in the dreams!
I glanced at my feet, and to my horror, they mirrored the same nightmarish proportions. I was paralyzed with fear, and instinctively shut my eyes once more. But when I opened them again, I was no longer facing my room's ceiling. Instead, I was gazing into a mirror. Heart racing, I met the eyes of my reflection, now distorted wide, lips grotesquely stretched to the edges of my face, skin unnaturally smooth—like a doll devoid of life.
Wait... I had seen this before. The realization crept in, a chilling whisper in the back of my mind. What was happening? What was this sinister game? And most terrifying of all—who was I really becoming?
