The AI Ghostwriter: A Paranormal Experiment Gone Wrong - Part 2

Neel’s body was frozen in terror. The twisted face in his laptop screen wasn’t his own reflection—it was something else. Something watching him. His breath came in short gasps as another message appeared on the screen: "You saw me. Now I see you." The knocking on his bedroom door grew louder. Bang. Bang. Bang. Neel’s mind raced. His apartment was on the fifth floor, and the main entrance was locked. No one else had the key. So who—or what—was knocking? He reached for his phone, but as soon as he unlocked the screen, a new notification popped up: “Incoming call: Unknown Number.” A chill ran down his spine. His hands trembled as he hesitated, but something inside him forced him to press the answer button. Silence. Then a whisper: “Don’t open the door.” Neel’s throat went dry. His instincts screamed at him to run, but before he could move, the knocking suddenly stopped. A heavy, suffocating silence filled the room. The air felt thick, charged with an unseen presence. Slowly, he turned back to his laptop. The screen had gone black, but faint words began to appear, one by one, as if they were being scratched onto the display from the inside: "I am not in the screen anymore." Neel’s heart pounded against his ribs. His eyes darted around the dimly lit room. He reached out with a trembling hand and slammed his laptop shut. Then— The lights flickered. A deep, guttural whisper echoed from the darkness behind him. "You invited me, Neel. And I never leave unfinished stories." A sharp gust of icy wind blew through the room, though the windows were shut. The hairs on Neel’s arms stood on end. The whispering grew louder, filling the space around him with distorted, incomprehensible words. His laptop suddenly burst open on its own, the screen glowing unnaturally bright. A new line of text appeared: “Run.” Without thinking, Neel bolted from his chair and dashed toward the door. His hands fumbled with the lock, but it wouldn’t budge. The room behind him grew darker, an unnatural shadow stretching across the floor toward him. His breath came in ragged gasps as he turned back to the laptop one last time. The screen showed a live video feed— Of himself. The footage was from behind him. But there was no camera in his room. And then, something moved in the reflection. Neel’s eyes widened in horror as he realized—the thing he saw in the laptop screen wasn’t behind him anymore. It was right next to him. The shadow loomed over him, its presence pressing down like an unbearable weight. A single, cold breath grazed the back of his neck. Then, in a voice that wasn’t entirely human, it whispered: "Now it’s your turn to write." Neel’s fingers twitched involuntarily, moving toward the keyboard as if controlled by an unseen force. The screen flickered, and the words began appearing by themselves: “A writer sat alone in his room, thinking he was safe. But the story had already begun. And it demanded an ending.” His hands trembled as they typed. He wasn’t in control anymore. The knocking on the door started again. But this time, it wasn’t coming from inside the apartment. It was coming from the inside of his laptop. To Be Continued…