Then the rest of the query typed itself, one letter at a time, with the slow certainty of a lock being picked:
GhostFreakXX GhostFreakXX
double GhostFreakXX.
Leo reached for the power cord. The screen smiled first. Want me to continue the story or adapt it into a different format (script, creepypasta, game dialogue)?
in the walls. in the mirror behind you. in the space between your heartbeat and the next.
Four seconds left.
And on it, two identical profile pictures. Same angle. Same expression. Same absence of eyes.
Leo hadn't typed that. His hands were still hovering over the keyboard, the same way they had been for the past seven minutes—since the first unsolicited line of code had appeared in the search bar.
The cursor blinked. Waited. The ceiling bulb buzzed like a trapped hornet.
Here’s a short piece of atmospheric, horror-tinged narrative based on your prompt: