He walked toward it, his hand reaching for the refrigerator handle, but his eyes were locked on that digital note. Why that specific time? Why that specific warning?
11:50:03 AM - He sees you now. 11:50:05 AM - You shouldn't have checked the time. Note 11/19/2022 11:48:51 AM - Online Notepad
His stomach gave a hungry growl. He’d been planning to heat up some leftover Thai food. He stood up, his eyes darting toward the kitchenette. The microwave sat there, a box of black glass and brushed steel. From this angle, it was just a shadow. He walked toward it, his hand reaching for
In the reflection, the laptop remained shut. And there was something else. 11:50:03 AM - He sees you now
Elias lunged for the laptop, desperate to delete the note, to close the tab, to break the connection. His fingers hit the keys, but the keyboard felt like cold stone. He looked at the screen. The text was changing in real-time, appearing faster than any human could type.
Elias didn't turn around. He didn't have to. The chill on the back of his neck told him that the note was no longer online. It was in the room.