Genur.art

A woman cowers in terror against the cold, metallic wall of a dimly lit spaceship corridor, her expression frozen in pure fear, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream. Her face and skin glisten with a wet sheen of sweat and fear, the emergency red lighting casting dramatic shadows across the industrial interior. Looming inches from her face is an enormous, human-sized rubber duck — sleek, shiny, and utterly expressionless. The duck’s glossy yellow surface reflects the flickering lights ominously. Its eyeless stare and unnervingly perfect stillness evoke an uncanny, surreal horror, like something fundamentally wrong with reality. The tension is suffocating. The duck, though mouthless and limbless, radiates an eerie sentience. Steam rises faintly from vents, and the silence is oppressive. The duck needs no words. It knows.