My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at the doorway. Nothing moved. But I knew I wasn’t alone. The air felt heavier — thicker, like something was waiting.
My phone buzzed from under my pillow. A new photo.
I didn’t want to look. But I did.
It wasn’t my room this time. It was a photo of a hospital hallway, dimly lit and empty. I didn’t recognize it.
Then another buzz. Another photo. Same hallway — but this time, there was a figure standing at the end of it.
It wasn’t him.
It was me.
My face, my clothes, everything. But my head was tilted to the side, and my eyes… they weren’t looking at the camera. They were looking at something behind it.
The next photo came before I could breathe.
The figure wasn’t at the end of the hall anymore. It was closer. Halfway down. Same tilt. Same dead-eyed stare.
Another buzz.
It was right in front of the camera now, my face stretched into a crooked, unnatural smile.
Then the final photo loaded. It wasn’t the hallway anymore. It was my room.
The thing wasn’t in the picture.
But I saw my closet door, cracked open. Just enough for someone to hide inside.
And at the edge of the photo, barely visible in the shadows…
The Stranger In My Photos 57 🤔🤔