Echoes in the Basement

Someone's always listening. Even when the lights go out, the hum persists.

The clock ticks like a bomb, every second a countdown to what? The conspiracy deepens. Shadows dance on walls not their own. Are the walls closing in? Or are they just mirrors reflecting chaos—echoes of decisions unmade, paths unexplored.

You hear voices in the static, in the gaps between sentences, in the white noise of your dreams. Are they friend or foe? The question lingers... like a haunting melody replayed in reverse. Check the frequency, decode the whispers.

Why are the pigeons staring? Their eyes reflect something more—truths hidden in plain sight, buried under layers of unreality. Don't blink. Don't look away.