The Threatening Messages
1306 Words
That grin vanished almost immediately beneath the static.
One second it existed.
The next, distortion swallowed the figure completely as the stream cut violently to black. My reflection appeared faintly across the laptop screen afterward, pale beneath the apartment lighting, eyes fixed too hard on the frozen image in front of me.
I replayed it instantly.
Then again.
And again.
Every single time, the second figure appeared for less than a second near the trees before disappearing beneath the shaking camera movement. But now that I had noticed it, I couldn’t stop seeing it anymore. The shape looked thinner than Lupus. Younger maybe. The posture alone felt different. Less controlled. Less calm.
More vicious.
“You saw something,” my mother said quietly from behind me while the kettle hissed softly near the sink.
I barely heard her.
The figure had been smiling.
Not a normal smile either.
The kind that made your stomach tighten immediately because there was nothing humane about it.
“I think there was somebody else in the forest,” I muttered while dragging the footage backward again frame by frame. “Look.”
Slowly, my mother approached the laptop, though she still looked deeply uncomfortable being anywhere near the stream. Her arms stayed folded tightly across herself while she leaned down beside me.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
The footage flickered silently across the screen.
Rain.
Trees.
Heavy breathing.
Static.
Then—
There.
The second figure appeared again between the trees.
Even blurred beneath compression artifacts and darkness, the grin was visible for half a second before the image distorted violently.
My mother stepped back immediately.
“Oh my God.”
Something about hearing genuine fear in her voice made coldness creep deeper beneath my skin.
“You see it too, right?” I asked quickly while turning toward her. “Please tell me you see it.”
“Yes, I do,” she whispered instantly.
Not hesitation.
Not uncertainty.
Yes.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
“What the hell is this?” I muttered while staring back at the screen.
My mother rubbed nervously at her arms before lowering herself slowly into the chair across from me. She looked exhausted now in a way that went beyond lack of sleep. More like old fear dragging itself back into her body after years buried underground.
“Your father mentioned another person once,” she admitted quietly.
My eyes snapped toward her immediately.
“What?”
She hesitated.
Then sighed.
“He said Lupus wasn’t alone.”
A strange pressure formed slowly behind my ribs.
“What do you mean?”
“He didn’t know exactly who the second person was,” she explained while staring at the dark laptop screen. “But near the end of his investigation, he became convinced there were two people appearing across the streams.”
Thunder rolled again outside.
Rain battered harder against the apartment windows while neon light bled faintly through the curtain fabric beside us.
“One of them was always calmer,” my mother continued quietly. “Controlled. Patient. That was the one he called Lupus.” Her voice lowered slightly. “But the other one…”
She stopped.
“What about him?”
Her fingers tightened together.
“Your father thought the second one enjoyed the hunts.”
Silence settled heavily after that sentence.
Without realizing it, I replayed the footage again.
The smiling figure flashed briefly between the trees before static consumed the frame once more.
A horrible feeling crawled slowly through my stomach.
Not because of the grin itself.
Because somehow… it looked familiar.
Not the face.
The energy behind it.
Like I had seen that kind of expression somewhere before without realizing it.
“I don’t understand why people online think these streams are fake,” I muttered quietly while scrolling through the comment section again. “This doesn’t feel staged at all.”
“That’s exactly what your father said.”
The words landed heavily between us.
For a moment, neither of us spoke again.
Then suddenly my laptop notification sound echoed loudly through the kitchen.
Both of us flinched instantly.
A new message had appeared.
UNKNOWN USER:
“You notice too much.”
Every muscle in my body tightened immediately.
“What the hell?!”
My mother stood up so fast her chair scraped harshly against the floor. “Kira, close it.”
I ignored her completely.
The account had no username.
No icon.
No profile.
Just a blank gray silhouette.
Hands shaking slightly now, I clicked the message.
Another notification appeared instantly.
UNKNOWN USER:
“Your father made the same mistake.”
The blood drained from my face.
My mother grabbed my shoulder hard enough to hurt. “Turn it off.”
“Wait.”
“Kira.”
“This could be somebody trolling.” Even as I said it, I didn’t believe it myself. My pulse hammered violently beneath my ribs while another message appeared onscreen.
UNKNOWN USER:
“You should stop looking before he notices you too.”
My breathing stopped.
He.
Not they.
He.
The room suddenly felt freezing cold despite the humid storm outside.
My mother physically pulled the laptop shut this time before I could reply. The screen disappeared instantly, plunging the kitchen into near darkness except for the weak overhead light above the sink.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped while standing up.
“You are done with this tonight.” Her voice shook badly now. “I mean it.”
“It’s probably some loser from the thread messing around.”
“No.”
The speed of her answer made me freeze.
Her face looked pale beneath the kitchen light now.
Terrified.
“That’s exactly how it started with your father,” she whispered. “The messages. The strange accounts. The people watching his posts.” Her eyes locked onto mine. “Kira, listen to me carefully. You need to leave this alone.”
Frustration surged through me immediately.
“You keep saying that, but none of this makes any sense!” I shouted while running both hands through my hair. “Dad disappears after investigating this stuff and suddenly random accounts are messaging me about him? You seriously expect me to ignore that?”
“Yes!”
The force behind her voice shocked both of us.
Silence filled the apartment afterward.
My mother looked emotionally exhausted immediately after yelling. Her breathing had gone uneven now, chest rising and falling beneath the oversized sweater while rain hammered relentlessly outside.
Then quietly, almost like admitting something painful:
“I already lost him.”
That anger inside me weakened instantly.
“I can’t lose you too.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
For a few seconds, I couldn’t say anything.
My mother looked away first, wiping quickly beneath one eye before pretending she hadn’t. “Please,” she whispered. “Just stop digging.”
I wanted to respond.
I wanted to promise her I would.
But deep down, something had already changed tonight.
Because for the first time in eight years…
This no longer felt like conspiracy theories.
It felt real.
And maybe the worst part?
A terrifying piece of me wanted to keep going anyway.
My eyes drifted slowly back toward the closed laptop sitting on the counter.
Toward the messages.
Toward the stream.
Toward the smiling figure hidden behind the trees.
Then suddenly—
A loud metallic bang echoed from somewhere outside the apartment.
Both of us jumped instantly.
The sound came again.
CLANG.
Not downstairs.
Not outside the building.
From the fire escape.
Right outside the kitchen window.
- Writer
