Elias felt a cold draft. He looked up from his desk. His curtains were gone. The streetlights of his neighborhood had vanished, replaced by a flat, oppressive grey.
He looked back at the screen. was now highlighted. He hesitated, then double-clicked.
The same room, but the curtains were gone. Outside the window, there was no street—just a flat, featureless grey void. Sample Images.rar
The furniture began to melt into the floor. The sofa was a puddle of fabric; the TV was a slump of black plastic. The reflection of Elias remained, but his face was now a smooth, featureless surface.
A standard living room. Beige curtains, a floral sofa, a television set from the late 90s. It looked like a real estate listing, except the TV screen showed a reflection of the person taking the photo. It was Elias. He was wearing the same hoodie he had on right now. Elias felt a cold draft
It wasn't a photo. It was a live feed of his own monitor. As he watched, a cursor—not his own—moved across the screen. It hovered over the "Delete" button for the entire folder.
The last thing Elias heard was the sound of a recycle bin being emptied. Then, the grey void claimed the rest. The streetlights of his neighborhood had vanished, replaced
The room was gone. It was just Elias standing in the grey void. He was looking down at a laptop. On the screen of that laptop was a folder containing a single file: Sample Images.rar .