The User (Short Horror Story)

I couldn’t get this out of my head. Not even as I typed this out for you with the hope that you could possibly help.

For some reason, no matter what I watched or listened to, I needed to figure out why the hell this was slicing its claws into my mind. The light of the screen bounced off of the skin on my arm, causing me to blink several times as I glanced down. What time was it anyway?

My vision was a bit blurred as I looked to the bottom right corner of my screen. The time didn’t click in my brain. It was too late, and I was too tired. Whatever. I needed to find that damn video.

Something about… screaming. Yeah, they were screaming. Begging. I remember what they were saying.

“I don’t know anything about it,” I heard myself muttering in an almost ritualistic fashion. “Please let me go, you have the wrong person.” The phrases left my lips so naturally, so perfectly, as if I’d said them so many times before.

It’s because I’ve got this damn video stuck in my head. Why the hell am I always up this late and so fixated on this shit?

Whatever. I shook my head to clear it, letting out a soft sigh. How many searches did I do? Five? Fifty? Five-hundred? Who could know, really. Why I was hooked on watching these creepy-ass videos at this late at night, I’d never know. They always gave me nightmares. Worse, I sometimes looked out of my window and saw the sun peering through, reminding me of my own idiocy.

Scrolling through several more pages, I narrowed my eyes. Alright, perhaps I could post questions on social media. The same question over and over again. Copy and paste. Someone had to eventually get back to me about this, right?

Hey, I need your help finding this… I began.

How many times had I posted this? I rubbed the back of my neck, drawing my hand toward the front and pinching the skin on it from my nervous habit. My flesh was wet with sweat because unfortunately it was rather hot in here, I thought.

Anyway, that wasn’t important. I needed to find this video. Perhaps e-mailing some of the content creators that covered this creepy shit could help me. Yeah, that could work. How long had I been sitting here, how many nights? I’d lost count. This obsession came along every so often, it was just something I had to deal with. It would pass.

My eyelids began to droop, causing me to shake my head again. No, I had to stay awake. What if someone answered me? I could end this stupid obsession right here, right now. That’s when a message flashed across my screen, causing me to eagerly lean forward.

“Hi. Your typing is a bit erratic and barely coherent, can you clarify a few things for me?”

It was one of those content creators I’d messaged a few minutes ago! Or was it days? Whatever, that didn’t matter. I quickly replied as fast as my fingers could type and let out a sigh of relief. This fixation could finally end now, thank goodness.

Several messages back and forth later, however, we got nowhere. He couldn’t understand what I was typing even though everything was crystal clear. My keyboard wasn’t messed up, was it? I re-read my messages and determined that everything was fine. Yet he still couldn’t understand me. I didn’t get it.

More sweat began to drip down my neck, causing me to once again reach around and wipe at it. Now the damn liquid was on my fingers, messing with my typing. I cursed and wiped it off on my shirt, desperately trying to clarify my point.

The light bounced off of my keyboard, and finally I noticed the tinge of red. Sweat was pouring from my neck, to the point where I rubbed it hard and brought my hand to the front of my face. Deep crimson liquid, thick, metallic… blood. What the fuck?

A voice from off to my right, gruff, male. “Have you found the video yet?”

“I don’t know anything about it,” I heard myself saying in an almost ritualistic fashion. “Please let me go, you have the wrong person.”

A grunt of disapproval, and a slice across my throat. The bleeding intensified, though it’d been bad enough already. It’d been that way for a while, I realized, as everything went black.

I woke up a minute later. Or maybe an hour…. or a year.

I didn’t know why I was always up this late, always searching for creepy shit. There was this video I couldn’t shake, an obsession.

I couldn’t get it out of my head. Not even as I typed this out for you with the hope that you could possibly help.

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Author’s note: Hey guys! I wanted to write a spontaneous, short ‘horror’ story inspired by this video right here. I often find myself up late watching creepy stuff on youtube, much like just now, and the concept of a ghost trapped ‘on the internet’ this day and age sounded pretty neat. It can be pretty eerie if done right.

Imagine if the frantic, incoherent people you meet sometimes, obsessing over something odd or creepy, are actually trapped spirits, for example. Whether or not you believe in the paranormal, it still makes for a great story concept, again if done right!

©Des M. Astor, All Rights Reserved