He didn't dare turn around. On the screen, the intruder reached for the mouse. In the real world, Elias’s hand was forced off the device as the cursor moved on its own. The intruder on the screen clicked "Upload."
"Desiremovies," Elias muttered. Probably some defunct torrent site from the early 2010s. bb-720p-hd-2-oct-desiremovies-home-mkv
Elias watched as the progress bar hit 100%. The file name changed. It was no longer a video; it was a mirror. The last thing Elias saw before the screen went black was his own face looking back at him from the monitor, but he wasn't the one sitting in the chair anymore. He was the one standing behind it. He didn't dare turn around
He double-clicked. The media player flickered to life. The resolution was crisp—720p, just as the name promised—but the image was strange. It wasn't a movie. It was a fixed-angle shot of a living room. His living room. The timestamp in the corner read . Elias froze. Today was October 1st. The intruder on the screen clicked "Upload
A figure stepped into the frame. It wasn't a monster or a masked killer. It was another Elias. This version was pale, his eyes wide with a desperate, starving kind of hunger. The intruder Elias walked up behind the seated Elias and whispered something into his ear.
He watched his digital self on the screen. The "Elias" in the video was sitting exactly where he was now, bathed in the blue glow of the monitor. But in the video, the front door behind him—the one he had locked ten minutes ago—was slowly, silently creaking open.