#creepy

Two months ago, I almost died. When you imagine your death, most people think they're gonna go peacefully in their sleep at a ripe old age. Very few imagine you'll die because you slipped in an oil puddle in your driveway and cracked your skull on the cement. That's what happened to me, though. My car, an aging beater I had kept for longer than any rational person would have, nearly took me out before I had a chance to sell it. The betrayal cut me deep.

Part I

I have been imprisoned here in this hell hole for the last four years. Fucking TDCJ psych ward. This is where they send the real fucked up prisoners. I’m in for murder, but I managed to make the courts believe I was completely insane. I thought I’d get to go to some hospital. I figured I could handle a lifetime of dealing with the crazies, then having to fight everyday to protect myself and my man-hood.

THE BEGINNING Every American child is familiar with the Statue of Liberty. Green woman. torch. crown. Greetings to the bunched masses, and the exhausted. Since 1886, she has stood atop that pedestal, grinning at cameras, ships, and school groups that wave back. The sole, covert goal of Division 0 was to ensure that she stood on her place. On one unfortunate day, they decided they won't monitor The Statue of Liberty. Midnight struck upon the clock, Guards patrol without focus.

I work as a night-shift moderator for a major social media platform. My job is simple: I watch the videos that the AI flags as "disturbing" before they go live, and I hit Delete or Approve. You see things that change you—car crashes, animal cruelty, the worst of humanity. But after six months, you go numb. Until last Tuesday. The AI flagged a video titled IMG_00042.mp4. It was only twelve seconds long. The thumbnail was just a dark room. I clicked play.

One night, there was pure white snow, five feet deep, below my window panel as I looked outside at the winter wonderland in awe and fear, a pair of eyes watching me from across the street. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start with the bringing of this day, before creatures of snow and ice came to my doorstep. My name is Rose Winters, I'm 31 and I have dark red hair with pale blue eyes. I dress very girly and I never stop talking about something.... dear to me.... Let's start...

Ed was a night watchman at Mr. Mitchell’s company, a firm that manufactured engines for motorboats. He was 54 years old—tall, thin, and never without his glasses. His night shift usually followed a set routine: he would circle the warehouse several times and then spend the rest of the night either napping or buried in a crime novel.

I used to think grown-ups always knew what was right. They seemed to have all the answers, like they were in control of everything. Back then, I thought there were rules for how things worked, even in little moments—like the way someone should look at you, or how a touch was supposed to feel. But nobody ever explained what it meant when something felt… different. When a look lingered too long, or a hand stayed where it shouldn’t.

The village of Driftwood Cove sat at the edge of the world—or so it felt. Waves crashed endlessly against jagged cliffs, their spray licking the stones like hungry tongues. The cries of gulls mingled with the low whispers of old sailors' tales, carried on the wind like secrets best left unspoken. Here, the sea ruled everything, its storms a reminder of its unrelenting power, its rare moments of calm a fleeting grace.

Two years ago my family and I left Earth on an experimental mission.

I'm a Disney fanatic; if you were to ask me something, I'd know it. But sometimes you don't know EVERYTHING Disney does..