The screen went black. A single prompt appeared in the center of the darkness:

The link was buried on page four of a sketchy forum, sandwiched between blinking gambling ads and "hot singles in your area." Alex knew better, but the craving for the survival horror game The Forest was stronger than his common sense. He clicked.

“You wanted to survive for free,” the note read. “But survival always has a cost.”

In the game-version of his room, the door was slowly creaking open.

Alex didn't press a key. He pulled the power cord from the wall. But as the monitor faded, he realized the green light of the webcam was still glowing, fueled by a battery he didn't know his computer had.

His desktop wallpaper—a peaceful mountain range—slowly began to change. The green trees turned a bruised, necrotic purple. The sky bled into a static grey. Then, a text file opened itself: READ_ME_FIRST.txt .

Alex tried to move his mouse, but the cursor was gone. Suddenly, his webcam light flickered on—a tiny, predatory green eye. On the screen, a pixelated version of his own room appeared, rendered in the game’s engine. He saw the back of his own chair, his own hunched shoulders, and the door behind him.

And from the hallway outside his real bedroom, he heard the distinct, wet sound of many feet skittering against the hardwood.