Laptop Screen — Shot Button [verified]

The timestamp read: 9:42 PM. Today.

It was 9:39 PM now.

Alex’s breath caught. The screen went dark. And in the perfect silence of the room, he felt a faint warmth against the back of his neck—like someone breathing, very close, over his shoulder. laptop screen shot button

On a whim, he leaned forward and pressed it.

Nothing happened. No flash, no click, no satisfying shutter sound. Disappointed but not surprised, he shrugged and opened a document to type a few desperate words. The timestamp read: 9:42 PM

Then his screen flickered.

Alex had been staring at his laptop screen for three hours. The cursor blinked mockingly at the end of an incomplete sentence. He was supposed to be finishing a project proposal, but his brain had turned to static. Alex’s breath caught

A third press. The screen went black, then displayed a grainy, low-light image. A hallway. His apartment’s hallway. And standing at the far end, barely visible in the shadows, a figure. Tall. Motionless. Facing the camera. Facing him .