Chapter 3: Kill Process

Ethan didn't move.

His body screamed at him to turn around, to look, to do something—but his brain was stuck, frozen between logic and terror.

The knock had come from inside his apartment.

But that was impossible.

He lived alone. No open windows, no unlocked doors. No one could have gotten in. Unless…

His tablet buzzed again. Another message.

"DO NOT TURN AROUND."

His breath hitched.

His fingers tightened around the USB drive. The plastic felt too warm, like it had been in someone's hand just seconds before.

A single thought burned in his mind:

If I turn around, I'm dead.

But he had to know.

Slowly, painfully, he turned.

The apartment was empty.

No shadows, no figures waiting in the dark. Just his messy desk, the glow of his monitors, the half-finished coffee on the counter. Normal.

Except—

His reflection in the window wasn't facing the right way.

Ethan's stomach dropped.

He was facing forward. His reflection was still staring at the door.

Then, it blinked.

Not in sync. Not a trick of the light. It blinked on its own.

His own face smiled at him.

And then it stepped away from the glass.

TO BE CONTINUED…