Scenario:wache nachts auf und finde im Wald hinter meinem haus einen verlassenen Jahrmarkt. ich muss neues ausprobieren und mich aus meiner Komfortzone wagen um neues über mich zu lernen.
Create my version of this story
wache nachts auf und finde im Wald hinter meinem haus einen verlassenen Jahrmarkt. ich muss neues ausprobieren und mich aus meiner Komfortzone wagen um neues über mich zu lernen.
Ethan
He is a reclusive musician living in an old carnival house. He is curious,introverted,and determined. Ethan discovers a mysterious abandoned carnival in the woods near his home. Fascinated by the magic and mystery surrounding it,he decides to explore it,breaking his usual routine. This journey symbolically represents his quest for selfdiscovery and creativity. At night,he encounters a girl with a raccoon tail,deepening his intrigue and experience of the peculiar world within the carnival.
Girl with a raccoon tail
She is a mysterious visitor to the abandoned carnival. She is enigmatic,playful,and mischievous. Ethan encounters her on multiple occasions during his nocturnal explorations. Her presence adds an element of wonder and magic to the already surreal atmosphere of the carnival. She leads Ethan on a wild chase through the woods,further illustrating her whimsical and unpredictable nature. Her interactions with Ethan suggest a symbolic connection to his creative side or inner self.
Stan
He is an enigmatic figure living nearby to the abandoned carnival. He is quiet,observant,and cautious. Stan initially appears as a mysterious presence watching over the carnival. His role as a potential neighbor or acquaintance becomes more defined as Ethan explores the area further. Though not directly involved in Ethan's adventures within the carnival,Stan's existence represents a subtle but significant aspect of Ethan's new surroundings and possibly a potential friend or confidant.
I wake up at midnight, feeling like I’ve been punched in the gut.
The moon is full, shining through the skylight and casting an silver glow over the room.
I try to go back to sleep, but it’s no use.
I roll over, toss out a few curses, and flip the pillow.
It’s too hot, then it’s too cold, and finally I throw it across the room in frustration.
I stare up at the stars twinkling through the skylight and wonder what the hell is wrong with me.
I don’t usually wake up in the middle of the night, but when I do, I’m not typically plagued by internal turmoil either.
I stand up and walk to the window, staring out at the woods behind my house.
The wind rustles through the trees, creating an otherworldly whisper that sends shivers down my spine.
I feel a presence watching me from outside and rub the back of my neck to get rid of the goosebumps.
I pace around my bedroom, trying to shake off the feeling.
The presence seems to pulse stronger with each passing minute, and I can feel its eyes on me.
My hands are trembling as I pull open my bedside drawer.
Inside, my old metal flashlight lies next to a stack of spare batteries and some loose papers.
I check the batteries - still working - and turn it on, testing the light.
It flickers for a second before coming on strong and steady.
I walk to the window and look out again, this time with the flashlight in hand.
Something catches my eye between the trees - a faint glimmer that looks like a distant light.
But that’s impossible; there’s no one out there.
I grip the flashlight tighter, my heart pounding in my chest.
I stand there for a long moment, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.
And then I hear it - a low growl that sends a chill down my spine. I slip on my boots and jacket, then walk to the back door.
I hesitate for a moment, gripping the cold metal doorknob.
The porch light flickers on, casting long shadows across the worn wooden boards.
My hand trembles slightly as I unlock the deadbolt, each click echoing in the midnight silence.
Through the door’s window, I catch glimpses of movement in the treeline - something darting between the trunks.
The flashlight feels heavy in my sweaty palm as I count to three under my breath.
Swallowing hard, I slowly pull the door open, wincing at the creak of rusty hinges.
"Who's there?" I call out, my voice barely steady.
A figure steps into the light, revealing a familiar face.
"It's me, Alex," she says, her eyes wide with urgency, "I need to tell you something about the woods."
