Dreamlog Entry - #004

  Title: The Suitor

  Date of Dream: November 07, 2025

  Clarity: Vivid

  Tags: Horror, Supernatural, Psychological,

  Status: Dream ended after interaction. Memory is extremely sharp.

  Note: This story was written exactly as it appeared in a dream. Nothing was added. Nothing was removed.

  [LOG BEGINS]

  The Suitor

  Premise

  There is an entity called ‘Smiley’.

  He follows me because he wants me to look at him.

  I refuse.

  I am the only one who can see him.

  When I ignore him, he throws things.

  At me.

  At other people.

  No one believes me -

  until something moves.

  Scene I

  It was a peaceful day.

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  Too peaceful.

  I was walking down the road when I bumped into someone. Hard.

  I looked up to apologize -

  And couldn’t see his face.

  Not because it was dark.

  Not because I blinked.

  It just… wasn’t there.

  I said sorry anyway and kept walking.

  That’s when the feeling started.

  That slow, crawling awareness that something is behind you.

  Every time I turned around -

  He was there.

  Standing still.

  Staring.

  He was tall. Too tall.

  At least 6’5”, maybe taller.

  He wore a black suit that looked too formal for daylight.

  And over his face -

  A brown, rough cloth mask. Like cheap cheesecloth stretched tight.

  Two horizontal slits for eyes.

  No mouth.

  No nose.

  Just fabric.

  The first time I spoke to him, my voice felt wrong in my throat.

  “What do you want?”

  His answer came without lips moving.

  “I want you.”

  I ran.

  He didn’t chase.

  He just kept appearing.

  At corners.

  Across streets.

  Behind parked cars.

  Always standing.

  Always waiting.

  For me to look.

  I ran into a building.

  He didn’t follow.

  He was already inside.

  Peeking from behind a pillar.

  Still.

  Waiting.

  I ran into a house.

  Locked the door.

  Closed the curtains.

  When I turned around-

  He was outside the window.

  Not knocking.

  Not forcing his way in.

  Just standing there.

  Looking at me.

  One hand raised slightly.

  “Come.”

  I ran to someone on the street.

  Grabbed their arms.

  “There’s someone following me.”

  They looked confused.

  “Where?”

  I pointed.

  He was standing across the road.

  Tall. Still. Watching.

  The person looked.

  Saw nothing.

  “There’s no one there.”

  But I could still hear him.

  His voice didn’t come from his covered face.

  It came from everywhere.

  “Look at me.”

  I refused.

  That’s when something moved.

  A bucket.

  It flew through the window behind us.

  Shattered glass exploded inward.

  It missed my head by inches.

  The person screamed and turned.

  And this time-

  They saw him.

  Across the street.

  No longer blank.

  The cloth over his face stretched unnaturally.

  A frown pressing against fabric that shouldn’t move.

  He wasn’t looking at them.

  He was looking at me.

  Disappointed.

  I ran again.

  Out into the street.

  The road stretched long and narrow.

  Trees on both sides.

  Thick.

  Dark.

  Too close together.

  He called my name.

  Soft.

  Almost gentle.

  Every time I heard it, I looked between the trees.

  And he was there.

  Not moving.

  Just appearing.

  Watching.

  Waiting for me to look properly.

  [LOG ENDS]