It's all in here. My whole life. Or what's left of it. Every file feels... tainted. Like it's been looked at by those eyes. I keep checking the system files, looking for a virus, a rootkit... something to explain it. But the machine is clean. The corruption... it's in the user.

I used to know. I had a name, a job, a face in the mirror. Now when I look, I see its reflection behind mine. Pink and yellow.

Am I me? Or am I just the person who sees the face?

A face. It's not human. It floats in the corner of my vision, in the static of an old screen. It has no mouth, but I hear it. The eyes are what get you. One is a sickening, bubblegum pink. The other, a jaundiced, electric yellow. They don't blink.

Time feels fluid here. The clock on the taskbar is steady, but is it *my* time? Does it measure seconds or cycles?

It started last Tuesday. Or was it a year ago? The moment I first saw the face is always now. The horror never fades.

The ultimate question. Why me? Was it something I downloaded? Something I saw? Or is this a punishment? A warning?

The face offers no answers. It just watches. Maybe the 'why' is simple. Maybe it's just my turn to go mad.