Note 11/19/2022 11:48:51 Am - Online Notepad 〈Hot →〉

In the mirror-world of the kitchen, a figure was standing directly behind him. It wasn't Sarah. It was a tall, blurred shape with fingers like frayed rope, reaching out toward his reflected neck.

Elias froze. He looked back over his shoulder. The laptop was definitely open, the bright white screen of the notepad illuminating the wall. He looked back at the microwave. Note 11/19/2022 11:48:51 AM - Online Notepad

The cursor blinked steadily against the white digital void of the online notepad, a silent witness to the silence of the room. At the top, the timestamp sat like a tombstone: . In the mirror-world of the kitchen, a figure

Elias didn't turn around. He didn't have to. The chill on the back of his neck told him that the note was no longer online. It was in the room. Elias froze

Elias didn’t remember typing the title. He didn’t remember opening the browser. But there it was, a single line of text pulsing in the center of the screen, typed in a font that felt too sharp for the words it carried. “Don’t look at the reflection in the microwave.”