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Elias froze. The hum of his computer fan suddenly felt like a roar. He could feel the weight of the air in the room shift, a subtle change in pressure as if someone had just stepped through a door that shouldn't exist.

He didn't turn around. Instead, he watched the screen as a second pair of hands—pale, long-fingered, and definitely not human—reached out from the shadows of the video-room and rested gently on the shoulders of his digital self. On the screen, "Video Elias" didn't look scared. He smiled. AgADtgADnvAAAVc.mkv

He waved his hand. On the screen, the empty room remained still. Elias froze

In the video, the chair was empty. Elias felt a chill crawl up his spine. He looked at the timestamp in the corner of the player. It wasn't a recording of the past; the clock in the video was ticking perfectly in sync with the one on his wall. He didn't turn around

The "Video Elias" leaned forward, his face filling the screen. He didn't speak. Instead, he held up a handwritten sign against the glass:

When the file finally opened, the video player didn't show a movie or a home video. Instead, it was a static-heavy feed of a room that looked exactly like his own—down to the half-empty coffee mug on the desk and the specific lean of the bookshelf.

Elias looked down at his own shoulders. There was nothing there. But when he glanced back at the monitor, the file had already deleted itself. The screen was black, reflecting only his own terrified face—and the tall, dark shape standing right behind his chair.