Dog: Imskirby

But one night, during a late-night Valorant session, something shifted. The chat spammed the same thing over and over: “skirby what’s behind you” “dog” “is that a dog??” Kirby laughed it off. They didn’t own a dog. The apartment building didn’t even allow pets.

That night, when they started the stream, Hex was gone. The chat mourned for weeks. imskirby dog

The dog stood up. Walked to the window. The moonlight passed through it like water, and for a moment, Kirby saw through its shape — saw a girl in a hospital bed, hooked to monitors, her hand resting on the chest of a service dog that had never left her side. The girl had Kirby’s eyes. But one night, during a late-night Valorant session,

The dog looked back. Then it blinked — slow, deliberate — and the vision faded. The apartment building didn’t even allow pets

The next morning, Kirby called their mom for the first time in three years. They talked about nothing important: the weather, a recipe, an old family photo of a childhood pet they’d forgotten.

In the doorway, sitting as still as a statue, was a dog. Not any breed Kirby recognized — lean, silver-grey, with eyes the color of old honey. No collar. No sound. Just… watching.