The Last Image My name is Ana. I'm writing this on my…
0 reactions
The Last Image
My name is Ana. I'm writing this on my phone, sitting in my sisters car, and I dont know how much time I have left.
Three days ago, I bought a sleep camera. It wasn't because I was scared of the dark or because I believed in ghosts. My ex boyfriend used to complain about my snoring. He said I sounded like a drowning dog. I wanted proof that he was exaggerating. So I ordered a small camera on Amazon, the kind parents use to watch their babies. I set it up on my nightstand, facing my bed, and I went to sleep like normal.
The first night, nothing happened. I watched the video the next morning while drinking my coffee. Seven hours of me sleeping on my side, mouth open, turning once to scratch my nose. I laughed at myself. I deleted the file and went to work.
But that afternoon, I got a notification from the camera app. "New clip saved." I didnt open the app in the morning. I checked the timestamp. The clip was ten seconds long, recorded at 3:17 AM. In the clip, I was sleeping. Then my arm lifted slowly, like someone was pulling it from under the bed. My hand pointed toward the foot of the mattress. My finger was aimed at something I couldnt see. Then my arm dropped. The clip ended.
I checked the folder again. The original seven hour video was gone. Only this clip remained. And the file name had changed. It said "wake.up" instead of the usual date and time. I told myself it was a bug. Cheap camera, cheap app. I deleted the clip and unplugged the camera.
That night, I plugged it back in. I told myself I was being stupid. I wanted to prove nothing was wrong.
Second night. I slept badly. I kept waking up, checking my phone. At 3:17 AM, I was already half awake. I heard something. A scratching sound, slow and regular, like fingernails dragging across wood. It came from under my bed. I froze. Then my sheet lifted at the foot of the mattress. Not much, just an inch. Cold air rushed in. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.
Something crawled up along my body. I felt pressure on the mattress, moving slowly from my feet to my knees to my hips. It stopped at my chest. I couldnt breathe. The cold was so intense it burned. Then I felt fingers wrap around my wrist. Not five fingers. More. Like a hand with too many joints, too many bones. The grip lasted maybe three seconds. Then it let go. The mattress rose back. The cold faded.
I opened my eyes. There was nothing there. My bedroom was empty. The camera was still recording, its little red light blinking.
In the morning, I watched the video. For three hours, nothing. Just me sleeping. At 3:17, the scratching sound was there, clear and horrible. Then my sheet lifted by itself. Then the mattress compressed in a line from the foot to my chest, like something heavy was crawling. And then my face started changing.
I watched my own cheeks sink inward. My eyes receded into their sockets. My mouth stretched open wider than it should have been able to, but no sound came out. It looked like someone was sucking the air out of my lungs, or maybe my soul, I dont know. My whole face collapsed for forty five seconds. Then it slowly filled back up. I woke up coughing. I didnt remember anything.
I watched that video eleven times. Then I deleted it. But I kept the clip of my face changing. I dont know why. I told myself it was evidence.
That night, I didnt sleep. I pointed the camera at my bed and I sat in the corner of the room with all the lights on. At 3:17, nothing happened. No scratching. No cold. The camera showed nothing. I stayed awake until dawn. I thought maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe my brain was playing tricks.
Then I looked at my wrist. There was a mark. Three small purple dots, arranged in a triangle, like a tiny bite or a needle puncture. They didnt hurt. But they wouldnt wash off.
Third night, I slept with the lights on. I put the camera on the dresser, facing me. I closed my eyes but I didnt really sleep. At 3:17, I heard breathing. Not mine. Someone else's, slow and wet, right next to my ear. I kept my eyes shut. The breathing went on for five minutes. Then it stopped. I opened my eyes. The room was normal. The camera was still recording.
I checked the footage in the morning. At 3:17, the video turned completely black. Not dark. Black, like the lens was covered. But the audio kept recording. I heard myself breathing. Then another breath, deeper, slower. Then a voice. Not a whisper, not a growl. A normal voice, like a woman's, calm and clear. It said: "You are going to show me to someone."
Then the video ended.
I wanted to show my sister. I drove to her apartment that afternoon. Her name is Clara. She lives twenty minutes away. I didnt tell her what was happening. I just said I had a weird video and I needed her to look at something.
I opened the camera app on my phone. The folder was empty. All the videos were gone. The only thing left was a single image. A photo. Time stamp: that morning, 3:17 AM. The photo showed me standing at the foot of my bed. I was smiling. My eyes were completely white, no iris, no pupil. And behind me, there was a shape. Tall, thin, with arms that hung down to its knees. Its hands were resting on my shoulders. The hands had too many fingers. Six on each hand, maybe seven, it was hard to count.
The photo was taken from the corner of the room. That meant the camera had moved. I didnt move it.
Clara looked at the photo. She went pale. She asked me what the hell I was showing her. I tried to explain. While I was talking, she looked at the photo again and screamed. She said the shape behind me had moved. In the photo. Its head was tilted now. It was looking at her through the screen.
I grabbed the phone. The shape was still there, still behind me, but its head was definitely turned. It was facing the camera now. Facing Clara. And its mouth was open.
I deleted the photo. I threw my phone on the floor. Clara picked it up. The screen was cracked but still on. The photo was back. Same image, same smile, same white eyes. But the shape was closer. Its arms were wrapped around my waist now.
We ran out of her apartment. We got in her car. She drove. We didnt know where to go. She pulled into a gas station parking lot and stopped. She asked me what we should do. I didnt have an answer.
I took my phone back. The photo was still there. The shape was gone. Only me, standing at the foot of my bed, smiling with white eyes. But something else had changed. In the background, behind me, I could see the door of my bedroom. It was open. And in the hallway, there was a shadow.
The shadow looked like a woman. It looked like me.
I just looked up from the phone. Clara is staring at me. She says my eyes are changing. She says theyre turning white.
I can feel it. The cold is back. Its inside my chest now.
Im not going to show this to anyone else. Im not going to delete it. Im just going to put my phone down.
If you find it, dont look at the photo. And if you see a woman smiling with white eyes, dont let her show you anything.
Its 3:15 AM.
I have two minutes left.
#entertainment
source
My name is Ana. I'm writing this on my phone, sitting in my sisters car, and I dont know how much time I have left.
Three days ago, I bought a sleep camera. It wasn't because I was scared of the dark or because I believed in ghosts. My ex boyfriend used to complain about my snoring. He said I sounded like a drowning dog. I wanted proof that he was exaggerating. So I ordered a small camera on Amazon, the kind parents use to watch their babies. I set it up on my nightstand, facing my bed, and I went to sleep like normal.
The first night, nothing happened. I watched the video the next morning while drinking my coffee. Seven hours of me sleeping on my side, mouth open, turning once to scratch my nose. I laughed at myself. I deleted the file and went to work.
But that afternoon, I got a notification from the camera app. "New clip saved." I didnt open the app in the morning. I checked the timestamp. The clip was ten seconds long, recorded at 3:17 AM. In the clip, I was sleeping. Then my arm lifted slowly, like someone was pulling it from under the bed. My hand pointed toward the foot of the mattress. My finger was aimed at something I couldnt see. Then my arm dropped. The clip ended.
I checked the folder again. The original seven hour video was gone. Only this clip remained. And the file name had changed. It said "wake.up" instead of the usual date and time. I told myself it was a bug. Cheap camera, cheap app. I deleted the clip and unplugged the camera.
That night, I plugged it back in. I told myself I was being stupid. I wanted to prove nothing was wrong.
Second night. I slept badly. I kept waking up, checking my phone. At 3:17 AM, I was already half awake. I heard something. A scratching sound, slow and regular, like fingernails dragging across wood. It came from under my bed. I froze. Then my sheet lifted at the foot of the mattress. Not much, just an inch. Cold air rushed in. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.
Something crawled up along my body. I felt pressure on the mattress, moving slowly from my feet to my knees to my hips. It stopped at my chest. I couldnt breathe. The cold was so intense it burned. Then I felt fingers wrap around my wrist. Not five fingers. More. Like a hand with too many joints, too many bones. The grip lasted maybe three seconds. Then it let go. The mattress rose back. The cold faded.
I opened my eyes. There was nothing there. My bedroom was empty. The camera was still recording, its little red light blinking.
In the morning, I watched the video. For three hours, nothing. Just me sleeping. At 3:17, the scratching sound was there, clear and horrible. Then my sheet lifted by itself. Then the mattress compressed in a line from the foot to my chest, like something heavy was crawling. And then my face started changing.
I watched my own cheeks sink inward. My eyes receded into their sockets. My mouth stretched open wider than it should have been able to, but no sound came out. It looked like someone was sucking the air out of my lungs, or maybe my soul, I dont know. My whole face collapsed for forty five seconds. Then it slowly filled back up. I woke up coughing. I didnt remember anything.
I watched that video eleven times. Then I deleted it. But I kept the clip of my face changing. I dont know why. I told myself it was evidence.
That night, I didnt sleep. I pointed the camera at my bed and I sat in the corner of the room with all the lights on. At 3:17, nothing happened. No scratching. No cold. The camera showed nothing. I stayed awake until dawn. I thought maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe my brain was playing tricks.
Then I looked at my wrist. There was a mark. Three small purple dots, arranged in a triangle, like a tiny bite or a needle puncture. They didnt hurt. But they wouldnt wash off.
Third night, I slept with the lights on. I put the camera on the dresser, facing me. I closed my eyes but I didnt really sleep. At 3:17, I heard breathing. Not mine. Someone else's, slow and wet, right next to my ear. I kept my eyes shut. The breathing went on for five minutes. Then it stopped. I opened my eyes. The room was normal. The camera was still recording.
I checked the footage in the morning. At 3:17, the video turned completely black. Not dark. Black, like the lens was covered. But the audio kept recording. I heard myself breathing. Then another breath, deeper, slower. Then a voice. Not a whisper, not a growl. A normal voice, like a woman's, calm and clear. It said: "You are going to show me to someone."
Then the video ended.
I wanted to show my sister. I drove to her apartment that afternoon. Her name is Clara. She lives twenty minutes away. I didnt tell her what was happening. I just said I had a weird video and I needed her to look at something.
I opened the camera app on my phone. The folder was empty. All the videos were gone. The only thing left was a single image. A photo. Time stamp: that morning, 3:17 AM. The photo showed me standing at the foot of my bed. I was smiling. My eyes were completely white, no iris, no pupil. And behind me, there was a shape. Tall, thin, with arms that hung down to its knees. Its hands were resting on my shoulders. The hands had too many fingers. Six on each hand, maybe seven, it was hard to count.
The photo was taken from the corner of the room. That meant the camera had moved. I didnt move it.
Clara looked at the photo. She went pale. She asked me what the hell I was showing her. I tried to explain. While I was talking, she looked at the photo again and screamed. She said the shape behind me had moved. In the photo. Its head was tilted now. It was looking at her through the screen.
I grabbed the phone. The shape was still there, still behind me, but its head was definitely turned. It was facing the camera now. Facing Clara. And its mouth was open.
I deleted the photo. I threw my phone on the floor. Clara picked it up. The screen was cracked but still on. The photo was back. Same image, same smile, same white eyes. But the shape was closer. Its arms were wrapped around my waist now.
We ran out of her apartment. We got in her car. She drove. We didnt know where to go. She pulled into a gas station parking lot and stopped. She asked me what we should do. I didnt have an answer.
I took my phone back. The photo was still there. The shape was gone. Only me, standing at the foot of my bed, smiling with white eyes. But something else had changed. In the background, behind me, I could see the door of my bedroom. It was open. And in the hallway, there was a shadow.
The shadow looked like a woman. It looked like me.
I just looked up from the phone. Clara is staring at me. She says my eyes are changing. She says theyre turning white.
I can feel it. The cold is back. Its inside my chest now.
Im not going to show this to anyone else. Im not going to delete it. Im just going to put my phone down.
If you find it, dont look at the photo. And if you see a woman smiling with white eyes, dont let her show you anything.
Its 3:15 AM.
I have two minutes left.
#entertainment
source
| 3,000 mlx | |
| 5 | |
| 0 |