Chapter 4: Now
I wrapped my bleeding hand in a towel and stumbled downstairs, grabbing my car keys. I was done. I’d drive to the police station, to a friend’s house, anywhere but here.
The front door wouldn’t open.
The deadbolt was locked from the inside, but the key was still in my pocket. I twisted it frantically. Nothing. The handle wouldn’t even turn.
Behind me, the TV clicked on by itself.
Static filled the screen, then cleared. It was a live feed of me standing at the front door, back to the camera. I watched myself on the TV as I slowly turned around to face the lens.
Except I wasn’t the one moving.
My body turned without me telling it to. My legs walked calmly back into the living room and sat down on the couch. My bloody hand rested neatly on my knee.
I screamed inside my own skull, but no sound came out.
The thing wearing my face looked straight into the TV camera and smiled that same wide, wet smile.
“Relax,” it said using my voice, soft and reassuring. “I’ve got this.”
Then it picked up my phone, opened the Echo app, and typed a status update for all my contacts:
Last Seen: Finally home. Everything’s fine now.
It set the phone down, leaned back, and closed my eyes.
The last thing I felt was it stretching my fingers, cracking my knuckles one by one like it was settling into a new favorite chair.
Then everything went black.
You are reading this on your phone right now.
Check your Echo app.
Last Seen: Right now.
May you like
Smile.
End of Story.
