A grainy image began to render on the screen. It was a webcam feed. Elias recognized his own bookshelf, the back of his ergonomic chair, and the back of his own head. But in the corner of the frame, standing in the shadows of the doorway he’d just heard the noises from, was a figure.

It was wearing a yellow raincoat, the plastic slick and shimmering. It had no face—just a smooth, pale surface where features should be.

Elias froze. He lived alone in a third-floor walk-up with a deadbolt that hadn’t been turned since he got home. He looked at the screen. A text box had appeared in the center of his monitor.

The figure in the yellow raincoat reached out a hand. It wasn't a hand—it was a series of jagged, pixelated lines that bled into the real world, blurring the edge of Elias’s vision.