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The Trap of Fear
An unreleased short story from the book:
The Price of Emotions: How Artificial Feelings Can Destroy Us
Elise had always lived in the shadow of anxiety. It was the constant hum in the background of her life, always present but never fully acknowledged, like a whisper just out of reach. At first, it had been manageable—those sudden spikes of dread before a big meeting, the flutter of panic when she had to speak in public. But as the years passed, it became harder to ignore. It clung to her thoughts like a shadow, creeping into the quiet moments when she thought she could rest.
At night, when the world was still, her mind would race with possibilities of what could go wrong, of the things that could happen, no matter how small or insignificant they seemed. Her heart would race, her breath would quicken, and she would lie awake, trapped in the suffocating grip of fear. It was exhausting, and the longer it went on, the harder it became to escape.
She tried everything—therapy, medication, breathing exercises—but nothing seemed to work. The fear was always there, lurking just below the surface, always ready to consume her at the slightest provocation. And then, one day, as she scrolled through her phone, she found it.
An ad. Simple, unassuming. The words stood out as if they had been written just for her.
“Buy Fear: Confront the anxiety that controls you. One drop, and you will truly understand your fear. Embrace it, and you will be free.”
The words were a promise. A way to finally understand what had tormented her for so long. Elise felt a flicker of hope, something she hadn’t felt in years. Maybe this would be the key—if she could just understand her fear, perhaps it wouldn’t have power over her anymore. The idea of confronting it, of taking control, of finally being free of this prison she had built around herself, was too tempting to resist.
She clicked the link.
A week later, a small package arrived at her door. Inside was a small vial of thick, black liquid. The label was plain—no company name, no instructions—just a single sentence: “One drop. Feel your fear.”
She stared at the vial in her hand, her breath shallow, her pulse quickening. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this? This was more than she had bargained for. The fear, the anxiety, began to claw at her chest as she unscrewed the cap and swallowed the drop.
At first, there was nothing. Her mind raced as she waited, her body tense, bracing for something—anything. But then it came, like a tidal wave crashing over her. The fear didn’t just touch her, it flooded her. It didn’t just make her anxious—it consumed her.
Her body stiffened as the sensation exploded inside her. It wasn’t just the usual dread—it was something else, something deeper, more visceral. Her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably, as if the very foundation of her mind was cracking. She saw herself trapped in a small room, walls closing in, suffocating, unable to breathe. She could feel the panic rising in her chest, but there was no escape. There was no door, no window, just fear.
She opened her eyes, gasping for air, but the room felt like it was closing in on her. The walls seemed to bend and stretch, the ceiling lowering inch by inch, the air growing thicker, more suffocating.
The fear was no longer just an abstract concept. It was a physical force, pressing against her, choking her. Every sound in the room, every creak of the floor, every breath she took felt amplified, distorted, twisted by the anxiety that had taken root deep inside her.
For the first time, she understood her fear—not as something she could control, but as something that controlled her. It was not a passing thought or a fleeting moment of discomfort—it was a beast, a darkness that lived inside her, growing stronger with every heartbeat.
The days that followed were a blur of heightened dread. Elise tried to go to work, tried to do the things she had always done, but it was impossible. The fear didn’t just linger—it followed her, attached to her like a shadow. It was there in every corner, in every room, in every conversation. The simple act of walking down the street became an overwhelming challenge. The fear had turned her world into a minefield, where every step felt like a risk, every movement a potential disaster.
Her colleagues at work noticed the change, but they didn’t understand. They saw the bags under her eyes, the way her hands trembled when she picked up a cup, the way she jumped at every sudden noise. They asked her if she was okay. But Elise wasn’t okay. She was drowning in fear.
The worst part was that it wasn’t just the physical sensation—the tightness in her chest, the cold sweat on her skin—it was the thoughts. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. Her mind kept replaying every possible failure, every mistake, every moment she had ever feared. The fear didn’t just come from the future—it came from the past, from the things she had done, the words she had said, the people she had hurt. It became all-consuming, a constant loop of self-loathing and terror.
The fear no longer felt like something that was happening to her—it felt like her. She couldn’t escape it. She couldn’t separate herself from it. It had become a part of her, wrapped around her thoughts, her emotions, her very existence.
At night, the nightmares came. She couldn’t sleep without the fear invading her dreams, twisting them into grotesque, horrifying shapes. She would wake up drenched in sweat, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing with panic. There was no escape.
She tried to reach out for help, but the fear had already alienated her from everyone she knew. She couldn’t talk about it. No one could understand. How could they? How could anyone understand what it was like to live inside a mind that was consumed by terror?
And as the days turned into weeks, Elise became a shell of the person she had once been. The fear had taken over her body, her mind, her soul. She was no longer living—she was surviving, trapped in a constant state of terror that refused to let go.
The fear grew stronger with every passing day, feeding on her, tightening its grip until she could no longer see a way out. She had thought she could understand it, control it, but instead, it had consumed her, turning her into a prisoner of her own mind.
The fear that she had bought had taken everything from her—the life she had once known, the people she had once loved, the woman she had once been. There was nothing left but the terror.
And there would never be an escape.
If you enjoyed this short story you will probably like our latest release available now:
The Price of Emotions: How Artificial Feelings Can Destroy Us
$3.99
In a world where emotions are bought and sold, the price of feeling has never been higher.
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