The Wrong Reflection
Every night at exactly 1:00 AM GMT, the same thing happened.
The screen flickered.
Just once.
Like something on the other side was knocking.
At first, it seemed like a glitch.
But then the reflection in the monitor began to delay — half a second behind, then a full second, then longer.
Until one night…
the reflection didn’t move at all.
It just stared.
Its eyes were darker than they should be, too focused, too aware.
And then the impossible happened:
It smiled.
Not the person sitting in front of the screen.
Only the reflection.
Slowly, carefully, deliberately…
the reflection lifted a hand and wrote something across the inside of the screen, as if the glass was fogged from the other side:
“LET ME IN.”
The room went ice-cold.
The lights dimmed.
And the reflection started tapping on the glass—
not with fingers,
but with something sharper.
Each tap deeper, louder, closer.
The final tap cracked the screen.
And then everything went dark.
No one knows what came through.
Or if the reflection ever went back.
stake: AlexeyF50