Video_2021-09-07_23-09-48.mp4

His phone buzzed on the desk. A notification from an unknown sender.

The timestamp on the screen ticked to . At that exact second, the reflection in the window turned its head and looked directly into the camera lens. The video didn't end; it simply froze. The progress bar continued to move, but the image remained locked on those silver, digital eyes. video_2021-09-07_23-09-48.mp4

The video opened to a shaky, low-light shot of a rain-slicked street. The audio was mostly the rhythmic thrum-thrum of windshield wipers. The camera was sitting on a dashboard, pointed toward a lonely intersection. For the first thirty seconds, nothing happened. His phone buzzed on the desk

He looked down. It was a new file transfer. video_2024-04-28_11-34-12.mp4 The current date. The current time. At that exact second, the reflection in the

Elias felt a chill crawl up his spine. He tried to close the player, but his cursor wouldn't move. He reached for the power button on his monitor, but his hand stopped mid-air.

Then, a figure appeared in the headlights—not a person, but a reflection of one in the glass of a storefront, even though the sidewalk itself was empty.