Favoriteteacher8mp4

Suddenly, the video glitched. The colors inverted, turning the sunset purple and the shadows neon green. When the image stabilized, Mr. Aris was standing directly in front of the camera. His face filled the entire screen. The glare was gone from his glasses, revealing empty, black sockets. "You're late for class," he said.

"Don't worry," he soothed, his voice now coming from the space right behind my chair. "I give everyone a passing grade... eventually." FavoriteTeacher8mp4

The boy didn't move. The camera zoomed in on the back of his head. I noticed a small flickering at the edge of the screen—a digital artifact that looked like a barcode. Suddenly, the video glitched

On screen, Mr. Aris reached out a hand, his fingers stretching toward the lens until they seemed to press against the glass of my monitor. Aris was standing directly in front of the camera

"I can't hear you, Leo," Mr. Aris said, his voice dropping an octave.

"Good evening, class," he whispered. The audio was crisp, unnervingly clear against the grainy visual. "I’m so glad you stayed late for the extra credit."

I frowned. There were no students in the room. But as Mr. Aris began writing on the chalkboard, the camera panned slowly to the right. There, sitting in the front row, was a boy. He was perfectly still—so still he looked like a mannequin.