I looked at the date stamp in the file info:
The girl gasped, and the running started again. The footage became a blur of dark branches and strobe-like flashes of light. Then, suddenly, the girl tripped. The camera tumbled through the air, landing face-up in the dirt. IMG_0430.MOV
I looked back at the sticker on the phone's case. The sunflower wasn't a sticker. It was a hand-drawn doodle in permanent marker, identical to the ones on the "Missing" posters that had been plastered around my neighborhood ten years ago. I looked at the date stamp in the
The camera spun around, the flashlight beam cutting through the dense woods. For a split second, the light caught something tall and pale standing behind a birch tree. It wasn't a person. It was too thin, its limbs segmented like an insect's, and its eyes—if they were eyes—reflected the light like polished chrome. The camera tumbled through the air, landing face-up