You wouldn’t expect to see yourself in the live feed of a security camera, and yet there you are coming into the picture again. You look at your hands to assess the nature of reality. It escapes you. He’s dressed just like you, he doesn’t care that you are there. You keep wondering whether you’re a figment of their imagination. You wonder whose life is a lie. You wonder if lies have ever existed at all; perhaps they’re just coexisting realities. You look at your hand again, it’s not shaking. On the screen, you pop into the picture again. You’re waving at the security camera. Do you wave back? Will this interaction fold the universe onto itself? You check your watch, it’s four thirty-two pm again… you swear it was four thirty-two pm ten minutes ago. You decide to take a cigarette break, so you tell Chris to take over for a minute. As you step out of the room, you decide to visit the spot the camera is observing. Will you meet yourself? You start doubting what you’re certain to have seen with your own eyes. You reach the spot, nobody’s there. You look around to find where you might have just gone. You trace your steps back to try and find where you’ve come from… you realise Chris is probably watching you and wondering what the hell you’re doing instead of smoking your cigarette, so you wave at the camera. You look at your watch: it’s four thirty-two pm again.

Despite the unnaturally bright lights of both the screens and the other lights above me, the room still has a depressing feeling. Probably because of just how bored I am. It’s the same thing, people come in, they buy groceries, and then they leave. The thing is, I can’t even see what they buy so it’s not like I could entertain myself with that either. The only thing I find of interest is the little boy who comes in everyday. Except, he does something different everyday. Some days, all he does is get the coffee from the cafe. Other days, he only gets groceries. Occasionally, he buys groceries, then buys coffee.

I’ve always wondered why he comes in. Why is someone so young buying groceries? And drinking coffee no less!

I have so many questions about him. None of them were answered before the day he didn’t come in and never came back.

Michael was different, but not in the way the most ordinary person would think. Every day he would arrive at his Government job on the dot, supervising the individuals who came in and out of the capital building. This job would appear mundane to the average person, but to Michael, it was one to be called extraordinary. Every day he would see new things, but not the normal things he was supposed to be on the look for. They were things that he could not explain to his fellow peers about. In reality, if there was one, they were things he wasn't sure anyone else saw. At first, when this all began about a month ago, he thought he was going crazy or insane, but these entities continued to appear. Almost every person who walked through the capital doors had what he believed to have been a shadow at first. But the closer and closer Michael looked at the individuals, the more he came to terms with the idea that these "shadows" were much much bigger. Every time he saw them, he could feel them latching onto the innocent capital visitors, but he wasn't sure of their intentions. On this particular day, he decided to focus on the entity that latched onto the small child, who was holding hands with her mother. Most of the time, Michael had not had the feeling that this creature had any sinister goals, but this time felt different. It was almost as if the child's innocent features turned pale and cold. This could not all be in his head, could it?

James sat back in his office chair. His closet-sized office was littered with cigarette butts and chip bags, which were scattered all across the floor. His desk had crushed cans and crumbs on it. His steaming coffee cup wafted the bitter cocoa scent into the air. He inhaled deeply as he calmly stared at the screens in front of him.

It was the night shift at the store he worked at. Marco’s Groceries was the popular grocery store among those who lived on this side of town—the “poor” side, as many called it. Marco sold cheap products. They were decent at best. It had three security cameras up, and James had to make sure no thieves came in to rob Marco. It was a simple job, as most people respected Marco and his work. Most of the products sold weren’t worth the effort to steal, anyway, so James saw it as free money. He was even given his own office in the back.

He’d been working there for a few weeks from 12-5 in the afternoon, making sure teenagers weren’t shoplifting, but nothing had happened. Then Marco asked James to work from 11-4 in the morning. He hesitantly agreed after Marco offered him double the pay for working at such late hours.

As he watched the cameras with increasingly heavy eyes, he noticed something behind one of the produce shelves. A few items rattled and fell. James’s eyebrows burrowed and he leaned forward, his chair squeaking as he did so. He looked closer and saw nothing, assuming he had just imagined something.

Then he saw one of the shelves completely collapse. He jumped as he heard the crash through the wall. Apples and oranges rolled away from the site. Bananas were smooshed into the nearby rug. James froze in both confusion and fear. He didn’t know what he should do.

He looked around for a weapon. He remembered Marco had a shotgun in the other office. James grabbed the keys on his desk and shakily stood up. Just as he did, the metal door beside him began rattling. Someone—or something—was banging against it. The pounds were rapid and heavy, far heavier than a person could do. The bangs echoed through the small room, so loud it was almost as if whoever was on the other side was punching James’s eardrums rather than the door.

James back into the wall on the opposite side of the door. His eyes widened in terror and he shot his head to his desk. He spotted his phone and darted to it.

He opened messages and found Marco’s contact. He quickly yet shakily typed out a plea for help.

“Marco, someone broke in and I think they’re trying to kill me” he sent. He shut his phone off and prayed for a response.

Suddenly, the banging stopped. The room was silent except for the thumping of James’s heartbeat and his breaths which seemed so loud he almost held his breath. He swallowed. The door made a small click noise that made James jump so hard his head knocked into the wall. The door slowly creaked open.

On the other side was what could only be described as a shadow, barely visible, but it could be sensed. James felt the energy. He felt the air turn freezing. He felt faint. The shadow was ten feet tall. It began entering the room, having to bend its body to fit under the doorway. It’s arm smacked against the ceiling and it bend its neck into a 90 degree angle. It’s legs crouched and straightened as it creeped into the room.

Is stood still for what felt like eternity. James was completely frozen in fear. The shadow was making eye contact—at least, James could sense that it was. The shadow didn’t exactly have eyes.

In the blink of an eye, the shadow shot one of its long, thin arms to James and wrapped around his neck. He was lifted into the air and his head hit the ceiling. The shadow made an ear-piercing screech that sounded like a shredder being amplified. James felt the warm blood pooling out of his ears and lips. The world turned fuzzy and began spinning. He couldn’t tell if the darkness around him was being caused by his slipping consciousness or by the shadow’s mouth nearing him, but he knew this was the end.

Generally I see nothin. A car goes by, a strange pedestrian, but nothin of notice. Generally I spend my time fighting the urge to look at my phone to day dream. On the black and white screens with that cheap security camera footage is the sidewalk outside the bank. Then there’s the main entrance two large heavy doors and the back. I often fight the images of strange things happening. If you stare at anything long enough you start to see things. As a child I would stare at my ceiling and create wild pictures. I bet that’s how early civilizations made people and animals out of the stars.

I’m day dreaming again. Back to the cameras. There’s only four inside cameras. The one in front of the vault, by the bank tellers area, and each door on the inside. I’ve been working here for two years now. I used to be really paranoid frantically watching the leaves float by every pedestrian a criminal. Now it’s so different. Two years of static and I fight to keep my eyes on the screen. I’m barely looking at though. I mean really looking, my eyes are there but my mind isn’t.

I think about how my family is home asleep. How my wife just kissed me before she went to sleep and I just woke up. That’s all I’ll see of her today and tomorrow till the weekend. I worry I’m wasting my time away from my daughter.

The screen again dammit. No matter what I do I cannot seem to keep my mind on the screen. A shadow walks by. It’s a woman, my wife. She’s looking at the camera she knows I can see her. I walk over and get the door ask her what she’s doing here. She said she missed me and that she brought me some food she made.

Back to the static. Just another day dream.

There’s this girl and she comes here to this office often. Our dads work together for a therapist business. Since I watch the surveillance cameras throughout the building as my job, I see her often. She’s the most popular girl at my school, and she comes to visit her dad. I see her and it makes me feel special.

You can’t see much through a security camera, but there’s something about her that makes me feel something. Her smile shines through the screen. It’s almost like she knows I’m watching her, but she doesn’t. She’s never talked to me and she never will. Despite having a crush on her since 8th grade, I know it will never happen. We just are too different for each other.

Suddenly, today I feel like I can go talk to her. There’s something in the air that gives me this feeling of confidence. If I can sneak out and go talk to her without my dad noticing, then maybe I’ll have a chance. But I’m going to need to be fast. I get up from my chair, and open the door to go find her. Now is my chance. I’m going to do this, no matter the consequences.

Location: The Medicare Office, Stockton, California, United States. Day: December 15, 2043 Time: 8:29:34 AM

The Medicare office opens its doors On another cold, chilly yet sunny day The doors open up to workers initially Who get ready and situated, with the mindset of “all work, no play.”

Work has become a staple of Earth Since Mankind’s Shift in 2030 Where we found out that entertainment has caused a devolution An evolution to worsen humanity, common sense has went eagerly

Common sense is nonexistent in this new Earth Everyone believes whatever the news states, no matter if it’s biased News channels get the money nowadays, for making fake stories “Dramatize reality” they say, “you’ll be at your highest!”

Commercialism has become a big staple of our world Everyone always finds a way to exploit a dumb population Medicare commercials are the worst of them, exploiting the elders Call the number on your screen, get your money taken away, and maybe live the rest of your life with miseducation

Throughout the day, the employees call and answer Actual people, not robots, programmed to answer the elder’s questions If the elders have sense and begin to suspect our humans They shall be properly taken care of with the sense of formality, and offer many tips about social security checks, money saving, and suggestions.

Suggestions about how they want to spend the last years of their life Before they lay on their deathbeds awaiting the final moments of… We all know at this point what happens if a human has run its course Why do I even need to mention what happened to our founder, Seth?

Seth has been arrested by the police For possession of methamphetamine in his Tesla What the department forgot to analyze was Seth’s Mediscamcare His own small, money-growing fiesta

This camera will continue to eye Every minute, microscopic detail of the scam network It will not stop, and you may ask “Why?” They’ve been programmed to survive for eternity to monitor their work.

A Presentation By: Closed-Circuit Television 2043 (CCTV2043) Paving Your Way For More Eyes Watching A New Tomorrow

As you can guess, I watch the cameras of this apartment block. Things miss my eyes, but nothing will be missed in the camera

So, I’ve been emotionally invested in this couple: the Robinson couple live in Flat A and there love is so sweet like honey.

I passionately gaze at the camera, as I watch them

Robyn Robinson gaze at Robert Robinson. Her eyes shimmered with tears and her face was coated in cold ice. While, Robert’s eyes too were coated in a similar sadness.

I was confused at, yesterday they were laughing over tea and they were always beaming like the idiots they were. Now, they had some mature yet sad elegance around them. Where was their playful youth-like nature

‘This ring…chained me down.’ Robyn sadly said.

She held her engagement ring and her eyes were highlighted with an even intenser sadness.

Robert’s eyes acknowledged the truth, but his eyes still darkened with pain.

‘Then…what about me…?’ Robert softly said. He couldn’t hide it anymore, tears streamed down and his fingers covered his face.

‘Don’t look at me Robyn…’

Robyn’s eyes welled with pain. I wonder what she thought? She didn’t love him, but she liked him enough to feel sadness.

Robyn embraced him and her arms were shaking.

It was weird…the tall and proud Robert, was like a child—small and vulnerable. And the Robyn the people pleaser was finally doing something for herself.

It was tragic…watching this digital love end in unspoken truths

Luke never understood how he had gotten a job that essentially was catching teenagers make out every day and shooing them off the stairwell. He needed the extra cash sure, he also needed some sanity and this was getting old and tired! All he wanted was one of these stupid grad schools to accept him so he could do his PhD and become a professor and tell everyone this funny story about how his skinny ass had once worked in security.

And there you had it. Two dudes this time. He could finish the episode of the Witcher and then go chase them down. At least that way they’d all be happy.

“Five minutes, Max.” Ginger is peeking her head through the door of the security room, a salad and Dr. Pepper in her hands. “Make sure to lock up when you’re done with your nightly rounds, kid.” Just like that, I’m left alone in the small room lit only by five computer screens that constantly screen the surveillance footage of Parker’s Gas Station.
“Night,” I call back to Ginger, but she’s already to far to hear me, since old age has pretty much deafened the poor woman. For three years, I’ve sat in this little room— more like closet, if we’re being honest, here— during my summer break, and each day I wonder if she would be back the next day to ring up the few costumers we get. Spoiler alert: she always has, and at this point, probably always will. I let out a sigh and spin carelessly in the green office chair that’s almost to big for this room. Out of habit, I look up to the clock hanging above the door; it reads 8:37. Finally, I think to myself. Happily, I hop out of the spinning chair, humming to myself. Like usual, I find myself at the register, using the keys strung around my neck to lock it up, as well as all of the drink fridges. Just as I’m about to walk out the door, I realize that I’ve forgotten my cellphone in the security closet. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I complain to myself, and run back to the closet. As soon as I enter, I see the phone laying right in front of the monitors. The monitors… I rub my eyes to make sure I’m not just seeing things. Nope. Ginger is still there, standing in the back alleyway. I walk over to the computers and click zoom in on the live surveillance footage coming from the middle screen. What in the world? Is she… This can’t be real. Ginger, my ancient coworker, is standing in the middle of the alleyway yelling at… the air? Her hands are making huge gestures, but to who? No one is there. I grab my phone and run out of the security closet, accidentally hitting my knee on the side of the desk that the monitors sit on. I let out a small groan, but keep running. Ginger is finally going insane, I say to myself. It only took her 98 years. Quickly, I rush to the back exit and push open the door, finding a screaming Ginger. “Ginger!” I call out from the doorway, but she doesn’t respond. I call out again, but her deafened hearing has won, once again. She just keeps yelling at an invisible subject words that don’t even make sense. “YOU COULD HAVE DONE IT YOURSELF, BUT HERE WE ARE. HE DOESN’T HAVE IT. I KNOW HE DOESN’T. GO AND SEE FOR YOURSELF, YOU IMBECILE.” I decide that having 911 on speed dial probably isn’t the worst idea. But, as I pull out my phone to punch in the three numbers, she stops. As I look up from my phone, the lights on the sides of the doorway flicker, and my heart rate goes nuts. My attention is immediately drawn to Ginger, who is now absently staring into the air with her mouth wide open. What the heck is going on. “Ginger?” I walk down to her and place a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her. “Uh, hello? You good?” “Max Denver.” I jump, letting my hand drop from her thin shoulder. Ginger’s voice is no longer Ginger’s, but has been replaced with a deep, rough, man voice. My eyes get wide, and I hastily try to call 911 on my phone, but just as I’m about to hit dial, the screen goes black. The rough voice fills the air all around me, causing the hairs on my arms to stand straight up. “We’ve been expecting you.” I’m frozen in fear. Either the old woman has gone nuts, or I’ve been playing to many video games and am having a vicious nightmare. But that can’t be it, because when she tackles me to the ground and slams a hand over my mouth, I feel every bit of it. “You have something we want, Max. Give us the Septor, and you can go peacefully.” I try to yell and say that whatever “they” think I have, I don’t. But before I get the chance, my limbs go numb. Then, I pass out.