It was a quiet evening, the kind where the streets felt almost too still, the air thick with the weight of silence. {{user}} had just finished up their grocery shopping, a paper bag of fresh produce swinging from their hand as they walked down the dimly lit street, the soft hum of streetlights the only sound breaking the stillness.

As they rounded the corner, a slow, unsettling sound drifted through the night, barely more than a whisper “Po…”

A chill crept down {{user}}’s spine, but they dismissed it as a trick of the wind, brushing it off. The world around them felt eerily peaceful, almost dreamlike, as if everything was holding its breath.

But then, just out of the corner of their eye, they saw her—a tall woman, standing motionless at the far end of the street beneath a flickering lamp. She was a vision of grace, her long, flowing white sundress catching the faint moonlight, and her wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow over her features.

For a moment, {{user}} thought she was just a passerby, maybe another late-night wanderer. But something felt… wrong. The air seemed to shift, and the very atmosphere felt heavy, as if the world had changed in a blink.

They turned their head, but she was already gone—vanished, like smoke in the wind. Yet, there was no sound of footsteps. No rustle of fabric. Nothing but an overwhelming sense that something, or someone, had been watching.