Ghostfreakxx

They met at school the next day, dark circles under their eyes. “We have to report it,” Sam said.

Sam screamed. Maya slammed the laptop shut.

“Ten thousand people are watching a chair,” Sam whispered, hugging a pillow. “It’s been three hours.” GhostFreakXX

“To who?” Leo snapped. “Cyber police?”

That night, each of them saw the boy.

Three friends—Maya, Leo, and Sam—huddled around a flickering laptop in Leo’s basement. The screen displayed a grainy, black-and-white livestream: an empty rocking chair in a derelict room. The channel was called .

Leo found scratches on the inside of his closet door. They weren't random—they spelled WATCH . Sam refused to sleep alone. Her little brother’s teddy bear, she swore, whispered the stream’s URL at midnight. They met at school the next day, dark

Not much. A single, slow creak forward, then back. The chat exploded. Leo leaned in. “Replay it.”