The Livestream That Predicted Death

Episode 1: The First Prediction Rain tapped softly against Ethan Cole's apartment window as the digital clock on his desk changed from 9:59 PM to 10:00 PM. Like every night, he adjusted his webcam, checked his microphone levels, and clicked the familiar "Go Live" button. A loading screen flashed. Then his face appeared on screen. "Good evening, everyone." Within seconds, a handful of viewers joined. Not hundreds. Not thousands. Just the same small group that always showed up. ShadowFox: Finally! LunaSky: Thought you were late tonight. PixelGhost: Ready for another mystery? Ethan smiled. His channel, NightTalk, wasn't famous by any means. Most nights, he streamed to fewer than twenty people. But after nearly two years of consistency, those viewers felt more like friends than subscribers. The room behind him was simple. A bookshelf. A computer desk. A cheap ring light. A small microphone mounted on a stand. Nothing impressive. Nothing that suggested anything extraordinary would happen there. Tonight's topic was an old unsolved disappearance case that had fascinated internet communities for years. Ethan loved stories like that. Not because they were scary. Because they made people think. For the next hour, he discussed theories, answered questions from chat, and laughed with viewers. Everything felt normal. Comfortably normal. Then, at exactly 10:56 PM, a notification appeared on screen. A sharp electronic sound interrupted his sentence. DONATION RECEIVED: $50 The chat immediately reacted. PixelGhost: Whoa! Big donation! LunaSky: Someone's feeling generous tonight. Ethan grinned. "Well, thank you for—" His words stopped. The donor's username was unfamiliar. Oracle_13 Beneath the donation amount appeared a short message. "11:17 PM. Red sedan. Corner of Pine Street and 8th Avenue. One victim." Ethan frowned. The chat instantly exploded. ShadowFox: What does that mean? Mia89: That's creepy. PixelGhost: Maybe it's an ARG? LunaSky: Sounds like a movie villain. Ethan laughed nervously. "Okay..." He reread the message. "11:17 PM. Red sedan. Corner of Pine Street and 8th Avenue. One victim." The statement sounded oddly specific. Not like a joke. Not like spam. More like a police report. Still, Ethan shrugged. "Thanks for the donation, Oracle. No idea what that means, but hopefully nobody becomes a victim of anything." The chat filled with laughing emojis. Within minutes, the conversation moved on. Yet the message remained in Ethan's mind. Something about it felt wrong. Almost deliberate. Like it was trying to communicate something important. He pushed the thought aside. The stream continued. Outside, rain intensified. Wind rattled the building. Midnight approached. Viewer numbers slowly dropped as people logged off for the night. By 11:15 PM, only nine viewers remained. Ethan checked the time. For some reason, he remembered the message. 11:17 PM. Two minutes away. He almost laughed at himself. Why was he even thinking about it? It was probably some random troll. Still... His eyes drifted toward the clock. 11:16 PM. The seconds ticked by. Then his phone buzzed. Ethan glanced down. A news alert appeared on the screen. At first he ignored it. Then his stomach tightened. The headline read: BREAKING: PEDESTRIAN STRUCK IN HIT-AND-RUN AT PINE STREET AND 8TH AVENUE. Ethan froze. His smile disappeared. Slowly, he opened the article. The report was brief. A witness had reported seeing a red sedan fleeing the scene. One victim. Critical condition. For several seconds, Ethan couldn't breathe. The room suddenly felt colder. The chat noticed his expression immediately. LunaSky: You okay? ShadowFox: What happened? Without speaking, Ethan turned his phone toward the camera. The viewers read the headline. Silence filled the chat. Then messages flooded the screen. No way. Wait. That's the same location. The donation predicted it. Holy crap. Ethan quickly lowered the phone. "That's..." He struggled to find words. "That's weird." Nobody laughed this time. After ending the stream, Ethan couldn't stop thinking about it. The donation. The location. The red sedan. The victim. Every detail matched. The odds felt impossible. He spent nearly an hour convincing himself it was coincidence. Maybe the donor had witnessed something suspicious beforehand. Maybe they were nearby. Maybe the accident happened before the donation and news reports were simply delayed. There had to be an explanation. There always was. Eventually, around two in the morning, exhaustion won. Ethan climbed into bed. Rain continued falling outside. Yet sleep didn't come easily. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that message. "11:17 PM. Red sedan. Corner of Pine Street and 8th Avenue. One victim." The precision haunted him. The next day passed uneventfully. Ethan edited videos for clients. Answered emails. Bought groceries. Normal life resumed. At least on the surface. But curiosity lingered. Several viewers had clipped the moment from the stream and posted it online. The video wasn't viral. Not even close. A few hundred views. Mostly people debating whether the prediction was genuine. Some believed it was staged. Others claimed coincidence. A few suggested something darker. Ethan avoided reading too many comments. Internet speculation rarely improved anyone's day. By evening, he had almost convinced himself to forget the whole thing. Then 10:00 PM arrived. And it was time to stream again. NightTalk went live. The usual viewers appeared. Except this time, there were more. Thirty people. Then forty. Then sixty. Many had seen the clip. Everyone wanted to know if Oracle_13 would return. Ethan tried keeping things light. "It's probably a one-time thing." Nobody seemed convinced. The first hour passed quietly. No donations. No strange messages. Nothing unusual. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe the mystery was over before it truly began. Then, at 10:28 PM, the notification appeared. A familiar sound. A familiar username. DONATION RECEIVED: $100 Oracle_13 The chat exploded before Ethan even opened the message. His heartbeat accelerated. Slowly, he read the text. "10:43 PM. Maple Road Convenience Store. Armed robbery. Clerk survives." Silence filled the room. Nobody typed. Nobody joked. The message felt heavier than the first one. More specific. More detailed. More dangerous. Ethan stared at the screen. Then at the clock. 10:29 PM. Fourteen minutes remained. A knot formed in his stomach. This wasn't funny anymore. Not if it happened again. Not if someone got hurt. He looked directly into the camera. For the first time since starting his channel, genuine fear appeared in his eyes. "Who are you, Oracle?" No answer came. The username remained silent. Watching. Waiting. Just like everyone else. And somewhere in the city, the clock continued counting down toward 10:43 PM. End of Episode 1 Cliffhanger: Will Oracle's second prediction come true, or was the first one just a coincidence?