For as long as anyone could remember, the people of Eclipse Point had avoided the cliffs at night. It wasn't just the treacherous terrain or the jagged rocks below. It was the stars. On clear nights, when the sky was a vast expanse of darkness pierced by countless pinpricks of light, the stars seemed… wrong. They twinkled too slowly, their light too cold. And if you stared long enough, you swore they stared back.
Elliot Grayson, an astronomer, had come to Eclipse Point to investigate a peculiar anomaly. The town was situated in a remote location, far from the interference of city lights, making it an ideal spot for stargazing. But the locals were reluctant to talk about the sky. When Elliot asked about the stars, they turned away, muttering about the "Watchers."
Undeterred, Elliot set up his equipment on the cliffs, determined to uncover the truth. The first night was uneventful. He documented the positions of the stars, noting their unusual patterns but finding no concrete evidence of anything amiss. But on the second night, something changed.
As Elliot peered through his telescope, he noticed a star that shouldn't have been there. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it pulsed rhythmically, like a heartbeat. He adjusted the telescope, zooming in as close as he could. What he saw made his blood run cold. The star wasn't a star at all. It was an eye—a vast, lidless eye, staring directly at him.
Elliot stumbled back, his breath ragged. He told himself it was a trick of the light, a byproduct of exhaustion. But the image of that eye lingered in his mind, haunting him. Over the next few nights, he became obsessed with finding it again. He spent hours on the cliffs, scanning the sky, his once-rational mind consumed by an irrational fear.
One night, as Elliot gazed through his telescope, he found it—the eye, larger and clearer than before. But this time, it wasn't alone. Surrounding it were countless others, each one staring at him with an intensity that made his skin crawl. He tried to look away, but his body refused to obey. The eyes held him in their gaze, their cold light penetrating his very soul.
A voice, deep and resonant, echoed in his mind. It spoke in a language he couldn't understand, yet its meaning was clear. It was calling him, beckoning him to join them. Elliot felt his consciousness slipping, pulled toward the eyes as if by an invisible force. He screamed, tearing himself away from the telescope and collapsing onto the ground.
The next morning, Elliot was found on the cliffs, clutching his telescope with a dazed expression. His notes were filled with incoherent scribbles, sketches of eyes and symbols that made no sense. The locals whispered among themselves, their worst fears confirmed. The Watchers had chosen him.
Elliot tried to leave Eclipse Point, but every time he reached the edge of town, he found himself back on the cliffs, drawn there by an unseen force. The eyes were always waiting, their cold light growing brighter with each passing night. He stopped eating, stopped sleeping, consumed by a need to return to the Watchers.
One night, the villagers gathered on the cliffs, watching as Elliot stood at the edge, his arms outstretched to the sky. The stars pulsed in unison, their light enveloping him. And then, with a final surge of brilliance, Elliot was gone. The stars returned to their normal state, their light cold and indifferent.
The villagers left the cliffs in silence, their hearts heavy with resignation. The Watchers had claimed another soul, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. The stars that watched were eternal, and humanity was but a fleeting speck in their gaze.