The Long Way Home (5) : You're walking home in the dark and soon hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Every time you turn around, nothing is there. If you try to quicken your pace, the footsteps start running right along with you. No matter how you try to see behind you--if you use your phone camera or if you look in window reflections, you can't see anything...but you know it's getting closer. If you don't run fast enough, you can almost feel a hand on your arm, a breath on your neck...

You need to get home, fast. If you can.


The walk home from game club shouldn’t have felt this long. Saskia usually loved walking at night—the quiet helped her unwind after school and streaming. Her backpack jingled with her headset and a few stray snacks, and she hummed softly to the background music playing through one earbud.

The streets were mostly empty, lit only by the flicker of half-dead streetlights. She was scrolling through her phone, chatting with her gaming group about a raid they’d finally cleared, when she heard it—footsteps.

She froze.

They were faint at first, but steady, echoing just behind her. She turned around. Nothing. Just the soft hum of the streetlight above her and the cool November air nipping at her cheeks. “Probably just my own,” she muttered, forcing a laugh. She started walking again, faster this time, shoes tapping against the sidewalk.

The sound followed.

Her stomach twisted. She stopped again. Silence. But when she started forward once more, the footsteps returned, closer now—matching her stride perfectly. Saskia’s calm side tried to take over. Okay, think. Don’t panic. Maybe it was someone from school walking the same way home. She flipped open her phone camera, turning it to selfie mode, hoping the reflection would show something behind her.

Nothing. Just the empty road, glowing faintly in the blue-white light of her screen. Her chest tightened. The air felt heavier, colder. She quickened her pace, nearly jogging now.

The footsteps grew louder—closer—running right along with her.

Her heart pounded as she broke into a sprint, backpack thudding against her shoulders. The world around her blurred, every breath sharp in her throat. She didn’t dare look back, didn’t want to know what she might see.

Then—she felt it. A faint tug on her sleeve. Cold. Too real. “Stop it!” she shouted, spinning around ready to kick anyone's butt who dared to touch her. There was Nothing. Empty street.

Her hands shook. She ran harder, cutting through the park to shave off time, feet slapping against the damp grass. The rustle of leaves echoed behind her—too close. She could almost feel a breath at the back of her neck, like someone leaning in to whisper her name.

“Almost home,” she gasped. “Just—keep—running.”

Her house finally came into view, porch light glowing like a checkpoint beacon in a boss fight. She sprinted across the yard, nearly tripping on the curb, fumbling with her keys as the footsteps thundered right behind her. She could feel it—whatever it was—closing in.

She shoved the door open, stumbled inside, and slammed it shut, locking every bolt with trembling hands. Silence. Then—creak. One soft step on the porch. Another. Right outside the door.

Her chest ached with fear. She backed away slowly, then turned and bolted up the stairs two at a time. Her room felt too quiet, too still. She dove under her blanket, clutching her phone against her chest.

The screen lit up. Notification: “NoSignal has started watching your stream.”

Her breath hitched. She hadn’t streamed tonight. Tonight was her one night off. The night she made just for herself no streaming - just good food, a game club where no one knew her identity, and a nice nightly walk. Then, suddenly, from downstairs—the front door handle turned. She could hear it moving ever so slowly.

The blanket slipped from her trembling fingers as a new notification appeared.

“Camera 1 activated.” She couldn't bring herself to pull up the cameras afraid of what she might see on them. She could feel the scream growing in her chest. What good would that do though? If it was a ghost - scream or not - she didn't stand a chance.

And just before she could scream, she heard it again. The sound of footsteps climbing the stairs. She made sure her covers never left her head until she suddenly heard a familiar voice. "Sweetie?" She let out a breath of fresh air as she quickly tossed off the covers, and ran to hug her mother. She did nothing and just hugged her as her headphones hit the ground. Mom was here to save the day.

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