Chapter 2: Nowhere to Hide
Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at the photograph taped inside your closet. Your own image, captured just moments ago, sends a chill down your spine. The dim glow of your phone screen is the only light in the room, casting eerie shadows against the walls.
Your hands shake as you rip the photo off the closet wall. The edges are slightly curled, the ink still fresh. Someone—who?—was inside your room. Watching.
Unknown
Do you believe me now?
Your pulse pounds. You want to scream,
You
Call the police, do something, but my body feels frozen.
You
Who are you?! How did you get into my house?!
Unknown
I never said I was inside.
Your stomach clenches. You whip your head around, scanning the room. The window. The door. The walls.
You
Someone is watching—but from where?
Fingers fly across the screen.
Seconds stretch into minutes. The silence is unbearable.
Your mind races through possibilities.
You
Maybe someone planted a hidden camera?
The thought sends fresh terror through you.
You rush to check your room, your hands fumbling as you search for anything unusual.
The vents. The bookshelves. The lamp. You even pull the blankets off your bed, your paranoia growing.
You
Nothing.... Nothing....
You sink onto the mattress, your heart still hammering. Your phone remains eerily silent.
You
Maybe… maybe they’re done.
You
Maybe this was the end of whatever cruel game this was.
Then, your screen lights up again.
Unknown
You’re looking in the wrong places.
Your mouth goes dry. You don’t dare respond.
Seconds later, another message.
Unknown
Look under your bed.
Your breath catches. A lump forms in your throat as you stare at the edge of the mattress
Your fingers tighten around your phone. You want to ignore it, pretend you never saw the message.
But a deeper, more terrifying thought lingers in your mind.
You
— what if they’re right?
Slowly, you shift on the bed. The wooden floor beneath you creaks as you lower yourself onto your knees.
The space under your bed is dark, the shadows stretching out like grasping fingers.
Your stomach twists. You swallow hard and lower yourself further, pressing your palm against the floor as you lean in.
At first, all you see is darkness. Then—
Your phone buzzes. A new message.
A sharp gasp escapes you as you finally see it.
Your phone slips from your grip, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Your mind screams at you to move, to run—but you’re frozen, locked in place.
Then, before you can react—
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