I didn't sleep that night.
Not because I was scared. No, fear's for mortals and people who forget to save their progress in horror games. I didn't sleep because I couldn't stop looking at the screen.The movie kept playing.
And the diner scene? Still rolling.
But she wasn't there.They looked for her. Called her name. One guy cried, he was supposed to love her in the movie, I think. But it was like she'd been edited out. Rewritten by no body , no screams, no dramatic slow-motion goodbye. Just poof....gone.And all I could do was sit there, replaying the scene like some sad, glitch-obsessed director, whispering: "Where the hell did she go?"
That's when the mirror in my room fogged up.Alone,middle of the night,no hot water and no shower.I stood slowly. Walked to it like I was in a Jordan Peele film. And there,written in the mist like a message from the beyond was one word:
"Scripture."
No pen. No explanation. Just that single creepy-ass word, scribbled like a secret left by a drunk philosopher ghost.Then it vanished.Of course I did the most reasonable thing any totally sane human would do.I screamed like a 5-year-old at a horror sleepover and threw my pillow at it.
"Scripture," I mumbled, pacing my room. "What kind of Twilight Zone prophecy nonsense is that supposed to mean?"
Was it the name of a movie? A warning? Or was someone or some thing watching me?
Because here's the thing: I always thought the tape just let me visit movies. Let me play hero, flirt and level up. Live my wildest power fantasies.But what if… what if it was something more?What if I was slowly rewriting them?That thought clung to me like a wet hoodie.Then came the knock.
I flinched. Middle of the night. No friends. No neighbors. Just the softest tap-tap-tap like someone polite was trying to ruin my mental health.
I opened the door and there was nobody there.But on the floor?A VHS tape, not blank and definitely not glowing.Just a handwritten label:"Don't Watch This."
Naturally, I snatched it like a crackhead librarian and shoved it into the player.
Then an image: me. On screen. In some kind of post-apocalyptic landscape. Only it wasn't from a movie. It was me now.
Looking confused and lost. Talking to someone off-screen.And then… her voice.
The screen glitched again rapid-fire flashes of scenes from all the movies I'd entered.
But in each one, someone was missing.
A character their face and a smile.
All replaced by me.Was I stealing roles?
Or worse… was I stealing lives?
My head spun. "This isn't how it was supposed to work," I said out loud, pacing again. "It was just supposed to be fun. Power. Escape."Not… this.
Then, like it was waiting for my existential panic to peak, a second notification popped up on screen:
[New Passive Skill Acquired: Role Override]
You now have the ability to replace characters in any script. Emotionally tethered characters may follow you between films.
I stared at it. Mouth open. Mind racing.
Follow me…?"Oh my god," I whispered, staring at the glitching screen, "She's not gone."She followed me.She's here.
I turned around.The mirror fogged again.
And this time, instead of a creepy word, it showed her reflection.Not mine but hers.She smiled,not in a creepy creepy and not ghostly either. Just… tired. Like someone who got lost and finally found home.I didn't know what to feel. Part of me wanted to laugh and part of me wanted to cry.
And part of me,some dark, cracked corner of my ego felt a twisted thrill.
Because now I knew: I could do more than play in stories.
I could rewrite them.
And someone or something was watching very, very closely.