This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/anish026 on 2024-09-13 16:53:31+00:00.
I swear, the folder wasn’t there the night before.
I’m not the kind of guy who keeps a messy desktop. I’m almost obsessive about it. Clean folders, everything in its place. So, when I powered up my laptop that morning and saw a new folder sitting right there, bold and unassuming, I froze.
UnknownUser
That was the folder’s name.
At first, I thought maybe it was a prank. My friends are the tech-savvy type, and I’d left my laptop at their place a few days ago. Maybe they got drunk, installed some creepy software to mess with me. But it didn’t make sense; they wouldn’t go this far for a laugh.
I clicked on it.
Nothing.
It didn’t open, didn’t load, nothing changed on the screen. Just this weird moment of hesitation like the laptop itself was considering whether or not to let me in.
And then, a line of text appeared across the top of my screen.
You’ve been chosen.
I blinked. Was it a pop-up? A message from some app? Maybe a virus?
Before I could react, the folder disappeared.
Vanished. Like it was never there.
I leaned back in my chair, laughing nervously. Of course, it had to be a virus. Maybe I’d clicked something shady online. But as soon as I opened the browser to do a search, the screen flickered.
Don’t search. It’s pointless.
The words flashed across my screen in bold red letters. They lingered there, pulsing, as if the computer itself was taunting me.
I closed the browser window and immediately shut down the laptop. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. This wasn’t funny anymore. Maybe it was a hack, something serious. I grabbed my phone to call one of my friends.
Before I could dial, my phone lit up.
Unknown Number: “I told you, it’s pointless.”
I dropped the phone like it had burned me. There was no way someone was listening, right? But I couldn’t shake the feeling that my laptop, my phone—hell, maybe even my house—wasn't just compromised. It was watching me.
I didn’t touch my laptop for the rest of the day. I didn’t even open my phone. Every little noise made me jump—every creak in the walls, every gust of wind rattling the windows. By the time night rolled around, I convinced myself I was being paranoid. No one could hack a laptop that fast and interact with me in real time. It had to be some advanced phishing scam or something.
I decided I’d take the laptop to a professional in the morning. Until then, I needed sleep. I locked the laptop in a drawer and crawled into bed.
I woke up in the middle of the night to a soft, persistent sound.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was coming from the drawer where I’d locked my laptop.
I froze. The rational part of my brain told me it was just a random creak, maybe the house settling. But that tapping had a rhythm. It wasn’t random.
I got up slowly, heart hammering in my chest. The tapping continued, soft but steady, as I approached the drawer. I could see the faint glow of light coming from the seams.
My laptop was on.
I hadn’t left it on.
With trembling hands, I unlocked the drawer and pulled it out. The screen was bright, and there was a single file open. It was a text document.
“You can’t hide from me.”
Beneath that line was a series of photos. The first was of me, sitting at my desk, staring at my laptop from earlier that morning.
The second was of me in bed, tossing and turning, unaware of anything.
The third… was a picture of me standing right there, in front of the open drawer.
The laptop clicked off before I could react.
By now, I was convinced someone had hacked my webcam or installed malware. But that didn’t explain how it seemed to know where I was, even when the laptop was off.
I unplugged the computer and removed the battery. If someone was controlling it remotely, that would stop them, right? Yet, even as I did, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t alone. My eyes kept darting to the corners of the room, as if expecting to see someone—or something—standing in the shadows.
That’s when I noticed the new sound.
A faint buzzing. Not from the laptop, but from my phone.
My screen was lighting up again, over and over, as if someone was calling. I picked it up with shaking hands. A new number this time, but the same message appeared on the lock screen.
I see you.
I tried turning the phone off, but it wouldn't respond. It just kept buzzing in my hand like it was alive. Then, before my eyes, a new message appeared, this time from my own number.
“It’s too late. You’re already part of the game.”
My vision blurred. I had to sit down before I collapsed. My heart was racing so fast I thought I might pass out. This wasn’t normal. This was something else—something I didn’t understand, and no amount of logic could explain.
That’s when the voices started.
They were faint at first, barely whispers, but growing louder with each passing second. I couldn’t make out the words, just a constant stream of unintelligible noise. I clutched my head, trying to block them out, but they wouldn’t stop.
I slammed my phone into the wall, watching as it shattered into pieces. For a moment, the room was silent again. But the relief didn’t last long.
A soft chime echoed through the room.
My laptop, battery removed, still locked in the drawer, had powered itself on.
By now, I had to be losing my mind. I grabbed the laptop, fully prepared to smash it to pieces, but as I held it over my head, ready to throw it down, something caught my eye on the screen.
A video call had opened up. No name, just a black screen, as if whoever was on the other end was watching from the shadows. For a moment, I stood frozen, staring at the pixelated blackness. Then, slowly, a face began to emerge from the void.
My face.
But it wasn’t a reflection. It was me, standing in my living room. I watched as the figure on the screen raised its hand, mirroring my movements. But the smile on its face wasn’t mine. It was twisted, wrong, like a distorted version of myself.
Then, it spoke.
"Don’t you get it? This isn’t a hack. This isn’t some game you can win."
The figure on the screen leaned closer, filling the entire display with its face.
“I’m inside you now.”
For days after that, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. Every electronic device around me felt like it was pulsing with life, waiting to strike again. I trashed the laptop, bought a new phone, and even stayed at a hotel for a while, thinking I could escape whatever it was. But it didn’t matter. Everywhere I went, I felt that presence—watching, waiting, controlling.
It wasn’t long before I started seeing the figure in reflections—mirrors, windows, even in the glossy surface of a car. The twisted version of me, always lurking just out of reach, smiling that horrible smile. It didn’t speak again, but it didn’t have to. I knew what it wanted.
It was taking over.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. My mind is unraveling. I can barely tell what’s real anymore. Is this my hand typing these words, or is it his?
If you’re reading this, maybe you’ve already seen the signs. The strange messages, the eerie glitches, the reflection that doesn’t quite match. Maybe you think it’s just a virus, just some glitch in your system.
But it’s not.
They’re already inside. And soon, they’ll be coming for you.
Final Note:
The story you just read may seem like fiction, but be cautious the next time you notice something strange on your device. Sometimes, the things we rely on to connect us with the world can also connect us to something far more sinister.
Whatever you do, don’t open the folder. It’s already too late for me.