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Elias stared at the black screen of the player. In the reflection of the monitor, he saw the door to his office, which he was certain he had closed, standing wide open.

He hovered his cursor over it. The metadata was blank—no date, no size, no source. Curiosity, sharp and cold, nudged him to double-click. Download Recording m4a

He didn't turn around. He couldn't. His eyes were locked on the monitor as the waveform spiked. In the recording, he heard the sound of a chair spinning around—the very chair he was sitting in. The audio ended with a sharp, digital pop. Elias stared at the black screen of the player

In the recording, a door creaked open. He heard the heavy thud of boots on hardwood—a cadence he recognized instantly. It was the exact sound his own front door made when the hinges needed oiling. The metadata was blank—no date, no size, no source

The blood drained from his face. The voice was his own, but the tone was wrong—hollow, as if spoken by someone who hadn't breathed in years.

The media player opened. Silence stretched for the first ten seconds, filled only by the faint, rhythmic hiss of background static. Then, a sound emerged. It wasn't music or a voice. It was the distinct, metallic scrape of a key turning in a lock. Elias froze. The sound was too clear, too close.

A new notification flashed in the corner of his screen: Upload 99% complete.