Scrolling mindlessly through a sea of uninteresting recommended videos, something caught my attention.
Sandwiched between a hydraulic press video currently at 2 million views and a Your Daily Dose of Internet at 1 million, was something with no views at all.
It was my face.
I had to lean closer to the monitor to be sure, but it was definitely me. From the silly quiff I could never manage to flatten to my misguided attempt at growing a moustache. I hovered my mouse over the thumbnail but the preview wasn’t working.
What else was I supposed to do?
I clicked the video and sure enough, there I was. It was uncanny. My lookalike seemed to be holding a camera at arms length and pointing it at himself as he maneuvered restlessly around a room.
“What’s going on guys, it’s ya’ boy Roozaya. Today I’ve got something really special planned that I cannot wait to show you all! But first, this video is sponsored by-“
Graphics from the sponsor slapped on screen as he spoke highly of some bullshit product. I managed to stop marveling at the familiar stranger long enough to get a look at the background.
I recognized the copper kettle my girlfriend Sarah had bought when we moved in last year, as well as a matching microwave I’d managed to pick up for a mere 10 bucks at a nearby yard sale. I saw our pots and pans piled high in the sink, and the glowing timer on the oven that blinked 10:05.
My eyes flicked to the right of the taskbar.
10:05PM.
“So anyway, enough about that, let’s get right into tonight’s hunt, shall we? Today’s target is, if you can believe it, my very own girlfriend!” A tinny sound effect of a shocked crowd played in the background. He nodded smugly.
“That’s right. Cherish this moment guys, we only get to kill her once!” He smiled, before looking past the camera and bending to reach for something. The unmistakeable sound of a cutlery draw being yanked open rang out two separate times.
Once inside my headphones, and once outside.
I batted the headset off my ears at that and darted to my closed bedroom door, pressing an ear to it and cursing my lack of foresight in not installing a lock. Sarah was supposed to have been home from work 10 minutes ago. I thanked God that she wasn’t.
Footsteps padded down the carpeted hall outside, stopping some distance away. I glanced over my shoulder at the computer screen and saw my double brandishing a large kitchen knife, lifting a finger from the handle and pressing it to his lips.
He stepped into the bathroom and lunged at the shower curtain, swiping it open and bringing down the knife on an unseen target. He grinned with a small shake of his head and turned the camera on an empty bath tub.
A thought occurred to me then. If Sarah were to come through the front door right now, this lunatic would be on her in seconds! I needed to grab his attention, and I had to act now.
Ceasing all intelligent brain traffic, I hammered a fist on the wall before scrambling to pull a weighty 5 iron out from under the bed.
My heart raced as the other me turned his attention to the source of the noise. Through his camera I could see the light filtering through a gap at the bottom of my bedroom door growing steadily larger.
I curled my fingers around the doorknob and waited with bated breath for the approaching footsteps to reach their crescendo.
Bolstered by the element of surprise, I threw the door open and brought the club down hard on the head of the intruder in one swift movement.
Even before it made contact, I knew something was wrong.
Blood burst in all directions when my strike connected. Wavy locks of blonde hair were dyed crimson as the body crumpled to a heap on the hallway floor.
My hair wasn’t blonde, though.
A plate of buttered crackers clattered to the ground beside her when Sarah fell. One bloodshot eye bulged from it’s socket while the other stared blankly up at me. She gurgled, hands grasping desperately at her ruined skull.
I don’t know if she had any presence of mind left at that point, but I had a theory of what she might have been trying to say.
‘Why?’
The club slipped from my grip. I stumbled back over the threshold of my room and spun to face the monitor, retching all the while.
I half expected the entire video to have been a hallucination of some sort. For the screen to have been blank all along. But no.
Sarah’s dying form filled the screen. Ending cards had popped up at some point, directing viewers to more videos by the same creator.
The next was titled: ‘Paying my parents a visit!’ The thumbnail featured me, mouth stretched in mock horror, aiming a smoking pistol at the camera.
What else was I supposed to do?
I clicked it.