But the monitor was off. In the reflection of the black glass, he saw the door behind him standing wide open.
The video-Elias turned his head all the way around to face the camera. His face was a featureless blur of digital noise, except for a wide, static-filled grin.
In the video, the "Elias" on screen was sitting at his desk, exactly as he was now, staring at a monitor. The video Elias turned his head slightly, looking toward the bedroom door.
On the screen, the door behind the video-Elias slowly creaked open. A hand—long, pale, and multi-jointed—gripped the edge of the doorframe.
Suddenly, the video flickered to life. It wasn't a movie. It was a grainy, high-angle shot of a room. Elias felt a cold spike of adrenaline hit his stomach. He recognized the posters on the wall. He recognized the messy stack of books on the nightstand. He was looking at his own bedroom.
In the real world, Elias felt a draft. He didn't turn around. He kept his eyes locked on the mp4.