Julian felt a cold prickle at the base of his neck. He zoomed in. In the gap of the doorway, he could just make out the pale edge of a hand gripping the wood. It was thin, with elongated fingers that looked more like wax than flesh.
The image file "unnamed.jpg" had sat on Julian’s desktop for three years. He didn’t remember downloading it, and he certainly didn't remember taking it. It was a low-resolution shot of an empty hallway in an old house, bathed in a sickly, jaundiced light. unnamed.jpg
The screen was cracked, but the image was clear. It wasn't the hallway anymore. It was a photo of Julian’s bedroom, taken from the corner of his ceiling. In the bed, Julian lay asleep. Beside him, sitting on the edge of the mattress, was a figure with no face—just a smooth, blank surface where features should be. Julian felt a cold prickle at the base of his neck
He shut his laptop immediately. "It’s just an algorithm," he whispered to the empty room. "An AI-generated prank or a lingering virus." It was thin, with elongated fingers that looked
If you enjoyed this, I can pivot the story into a different genre: A mystery about a corrupted space station log. A whimsical tale of a forgotten memory regained. A noir detective story involving a missing photographer. Which direction
But that night, he dreamt of the hallway. He could smell the dust and the faint, sweet scent of rotting apples. He heard the floorboards groan under a weight that wasn't his own. When he woke up, drenched in sweat, he reached for his phone.
A notification was waiting for him. AirDrop: "unnamed.jpg" wants to share a photo.