So I’m standing in my room, hair looking like I just stepped out of a shampoo ad, and my vibe is impeccable as always. Ring light set to blinding, and I'm hyped to give my followers that top-tier content they deserve. Like, hello, your girl Bree is about to play this new horror VR game that everyone’s losing their minds over. My chat is blowing up already— “Bree, you’re gonna freakkk 😱,” “Good luck, queen, you got this 😂.” And I’m like, pfft, ya’ll must have forgotten—I’m Bree Baxter. If I can survive Karen and her 5-sugar, 3-pump-no-foam-extra-hot latte order, I can handle whatever pixelated nightmare this game throws at me.

I slip on the VR headset, do a little twirl for the livestream, and boom—we’re in.

Level One: The vibes are off immediately. I’m standing in this janky, dusty-ass mansion, and okay, I’ve seen scarier filters on TikTok. The lighting? Tragic. The furniture? Straight outta Great Aunt Mildred’s estate sale. The floors creak under my virtual feet, and there’s some spooky-ass music playing, like a cheap bootleg horror movie soundtrack. Yikes.

I roll my eyes. “O-m-g, guys, I’m sooooo scared,” I say, leaning hard into the sarcasm. Chat’s throwing laughing emojis, fire emojis, someone says “Scooby-Doo called, he wants his set back.” I’m living for it.

I push open this giant, tacky door, already bracing for the world’s most predictable jump scare. Cue the zombie. Boom—here it comes, lurching out from behind an ugly chair like it’s late to its own funeral. I let out a scream for the drama (you know how I do), and then laugh, flipping my virtual hair like I’m not even phased. “Karen, sweetie, you need a nap and a pumpkin spice latte ASAP. I’m not scared of you.”

But then something… weird happens.

The game glitches. Like, not your basic lag—this is different. The zombie freezes mid-lurch, its face flickering, but not in a normal glitchy way. Nah, it’s flickering like a VHS tape on fire. Its features start stretching, warping, and its mouth is opening waaay too wide, like it's about to unhinge its whole face. And the sound? Ugh, it’s like static mixed with nails on a chalkboard. My stomach is doing gymnastics.

“Uh, guys?” I try to laugh it off, but my voice is all shaky. “Is this, like, part of the game?” 

I go to pull up the menu, ‘cause duh, time to peace out, but it’s GONE. Like, poof, vanished. I’m swiping at the air like a maniac, smashing buttons, but literally nothing is happening. Chat’s popping off, but none of their messages are coming through anymore. Just rows of wide eye emojis 👁️👁️👁️👁️.

I try to step back, but suddenly the mansion around me starts… changing. The walls are warping, like they’re pulsing, like they’re alive. The ugly, floral wallpaper looks like something straight out of some ‘I-was-cool-in-the-70s’ collection, and now it’s breathing. My stomach flips.

Above me, the chandelier flickers wildly, its cheap, gaudy crystals casting weird, jagged shadows across the room. I blink, and just like that—it explodes. Black goo rains down, splattering the walls, the floor, and me. The stuff’s thick and smells like rot, sliding down the peeling wallpaper in fat, slow drips. “Okay, what the f—?!” I mutter, my heart legit racing now. This is so not cute.

I spin around to bail outta there, but the hallway I came from? Gone. Like, straight up, just gone. Now I’m standing in some creepy-ass basement that smells like every moldy TikTok “cleaning hack” nightmare. The air’s freezing, and it feels thick, like I’m breathing in fog, and I can hear this… scratching sound. Faint at first, but getting louder, like nails on old wood.

My whole body tenses. “Okay, not funny anymore,” I whisper, trying to act like I’m not one millisecond away from absolutely losing it. The scratching gets louder, closer, and I slowly turn around.

Y’all.

It’s not a zombie anymore.

In the corner of the basement, hunched over like it’s straight out of some cursed found footage film, is this thing. It looks like someone took a person and put it through a horror movie filter. Its limbs are all wrong—too long, too bent—and its skin is pale and rotting, like it’s melting off in chunks. Its eyes? Just black, empty pits staring at me like I’m next on the menu.

I let out this tiny little breath, shaking. “Bruh… what… the hell?” My hands are legit shaking now, but my legs? They won’t move. I’m frozen, like the game has me trapped.

Then it starts crawling toward me. FAST. Like, speed demon status, nails scraping across the floor, making this high-pitched screeching noise that’s making my brain hurt.

I scream—like, for REAL this time—and turn to run, but the walls are shifting again, twisting into this maze of nightmare fuel. Every corner I turn? More walls. More darkness. It’s still chasing me, I can hear it—its wet, gasping breaths, the sound of its nails on the floor, getting closer, closer—

My breath is coming in ragged gasps, my chest tight. “Chat, help me out! Someone, how do I quit??” But my chat’s still frozen. All the comments are gone. Just more eyes 👁️👁️👁️👁️. I’m hyperventilating, my chest is tight, and I can feel it getting closer. Its breath, hot and rancid, brushes the back of my neck.

I whip around, flailing, and reach up to tear off the VR headset—except my hand passes right through it. Like, literally through it. Am I still in the game, or am I glitching for real? 

“NO. NO. NOPE.” My voice cracks, full-on panic mode now. I slam myself against a door and it bursts open, and I’m in this pitch-black room. No lights. No sound. Nothing.

Except the voice. Not like the fake, distorted ones in VR. This one sounds real, and it’s whispering my name, drawing it out in a sick, sing-song way.

“Breeee…”

Oh, HELL no.

It’s right behind me, whispering my name, like it's singing some cursed lullaby. I freeze, my whole body goes cold. Something brushes my arm—cold, slimy.

I freak. I start swinging at nothing, just thrashing, but then something GRABS my wrist. And it’s burning. It feels like fire ripping through my bones, and when I look down, its hand—oh god, its hand—is this skeletal, decaying mess, flesh hanging off in strips.

“LET GO OF ME!!” I scream, yanking my arm back, but it just pulls me closer. And that’s when I see its face—or, like, what’s left of it. It’s just a mess of jagged teeth and empty eye sockets, like someone erased its features and left behind the worst parts. It opens its mouth wide, wider than should be possible, and this disgusting stench rolls out, like decay and death, and that growl—deep, rumbling, shaking me down to my bones.

Before I can react, it lunges.

I rip off the headset finally, gasping for air, my chest heaving. I’m back in my room—ring light still blinding, hair still in place (thank God), and my phone buzzing like crazy. Chat’s blowing up, messages flooding in faster than I can blink:

"OMG BREEEEE!!"

"Queen, are you okay?!"

"BREE, WHAT WAS THAT??!! 😱😱"

I look down at my hands. They’re shaking, and when I check my wrist... Nope. Nope. Nope. There’s definitely something there. Deep, raw claw marks carved right into my skin. Blood’s slowly dripping down my arm.

I swallow hard. “Guys… this isn’t right.” My voice cracks a little, and I hold up my wrist to the camera. “This… this happened in the game, but it's real now.”

Chat’s going wild with rows of 👁️👁️👁️👁️. No one’s telling jokes anymore.

I stand up, but something feels... off. Like, seriously off. I glance at the mirror across the room, just to make sure I’m not losing my mind. My reflection stares back, hair looking perfect (obvi), but there’s something wrong. I squint.

My reflection isn’t moving.

No. No, no, no. I step back, but the other me? She’s still standing there, frozen, like someone paused her on a TikTok loop. Except… she’s smiling now. A slow, wide grin stretching across her face.

I blink. She doesn’t.

“Oh hell no.” I’m backing away, but I can’t stop looking. My reflection just stays there, smiling, while something in the mirror starts moving behind her. No. I whip around, expecting to see… something. But there’s nothing. Just me. My ring light. My messy bed. Totally normal.

Except when I look back at the mirror, that thing? It’s still there. A dark shadow, crawling, flickering, like it’s stuck between frames, glitching out just like the game.

I spin around, desperate to shake it off. This isn’t happening. I’m out of the game. Right? I’m back in my room. But the air feels... wrong. Heavy. Cold. And then my phone buzzes with a new notification.

I glance at the screen, my heart pounding.

"Game Over."

I let out a shaky laugh. "Okay, fine, game’s over. I’m done." I drop my phone on the bed, trying to pull myself together. But then... another buzz. My eyes snap to the screen.

"Restart?"

I freeze.

"Guys?" My voice wavers as I look back at the mirror, my reflection still frozen, still smiling. The shadow behind it creeps closer, flickering in and out of view.

"Restart?"

The phone buzzes again.

I glance at my wrist—the claw marks still fresh, still real. My whole body tenses. My hands are shaking as I pick up my phone again, staring at the screen.

Another buzz.

"Restart."

My reflection’s grin widens.