Not a ghost. Not a demon. Something older. Something that learned long ago that the loudest presence is the one that makes no sound at all.
So next time you feel unseen… smile. Because somewhere in the static of the ordinary, two unblinking eyes are staring back. staremasster
You’ve felt it before. That prickling on the back of your neck. The sudden urge to turn around in an empty room. The pause mid-sentence when you swear someone’s eyes are on you—but no one’s there. Not a ghost
The Staremasster doesn’t follow you home. It’s already there. In the reflection you glanced at twice. In the gap between your blinds. In the pause between heartbeats when your pet’s head turns to track something you can’t see. Something that learned long ago that the loudest