Three old monitors are still glowing filled with static and half-erased memories.
The cold fluorescent light spills over a decayed body, tied to a rusted chair, as if it’s been waiting for centuries to finally die.
Cables crawl across the floor like dead veins, and dried blood traces the path of the last breath taken here.
The camera in the center of the room still stands… its tape never ran out.
Every few minutes, one of the monitors flickers and records something new.
But if you look closely…
he’s no longer in the chair.
And the camera…
is watching *you*.