On the screen, the video-Elias began to scream, but no sound came out. Instead, a text overlay started to crawl across the bottom of the player in a jagged, white font:
In the real world, Elias heard the floorboard behind him groan. The same groan he’d lived with for three years, the one he always blamed on the house settling. The text on the screen updated:
The screen stayed black for exactly eleven seconds. Then, a grainy, high-angle shot flickered into view. It was a small, cluttered apartment—his apartment. He saw himself sitting at the very desk he was at now, bathed in the blue glow of the monitor.
In the real world, Elias felt his heart hammer against his ribs. He turned around, expecting to see a tripod or a hidden lens tucked into the bookshelf behind him. Nothing. Just dusty novels and a dead spider.
The Elias on screen looked up, staring directly into the camera lens with a look of pure, paralyzing terror.