Courtney paced the small living room, phone clutched in her hand. Christopher sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through his laptop like he was hunting a secret the world had missed.
"You don't get it," Courtney said, stopping suddenly. "Tyler didn't just die. He… it's like something was waiting for him."
Christopher didn't look up. "I've been thinking the same thing. But I can't say it out loud yet without sounding insane. I need proof."
Courtney rolled her eyes. "Proof? Christopher, he hit a thousand likes on his last post. You saw the stream, the chat. We both know it's… weird. Too weird for coincidence."
Christopher finally met her gaze. "We need to be careful. People aren't going to believe this. Friends, fans… even us. If this gets out too soon, it'll be chaos.
And whoever or whatever is behind it… they might notice we're looking."
"Or maybe it's just the algorithm," Courtney said, her voice tight, almost trembling despite her effort to sound calm. She stared down at her phone, fingers tapping nervously against the screen as if she could somehow reason with the numbers themselves.
"Some glitch… some cosmic joke… something that decides when we go too far with engagement. I don't know, Chris. I just…" Her jaw tightened, and she swallowed hard, the air in the room suddenly feeling thick and heavy. "I'm not going to sit around and wait for it to hit me next."
'I won't let it choose me,' she thought, heart hammering. 'I won't be another one in the pattern. I refuse.'
Her gaze flicked to Christopher, searching for some kind of reassurance, some anchor, but all she saw was the tension etched into his face, the same fear she felt gnawing quietly at the edges of her mind.
It wasn't just numbers anymore. Not likes, not notifications. Something was watching, waiting, deciding... and Courtney didn't know if she could outsmart it.
'It's patient. And I don't think it forgets.'
Christopher leaned back, rubbing his temples. "So, what, we're going to start tracking everyone's likes? Making a spreadsheet of potential victims?"
Courtney's eyes sparkled, a little manic, her fingers drumming against the table. "Exactly. We have to see if there's a pattern. Dates, times, numbers… everything. We need data. If we can track it, maybe we can predict it."
Christopher leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. "Predict it… or prevent it. But how? This isn't like any algorithm I've ever seen. It's… it's something else."
Jenna, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke, her voice steady but tight with urgency. "That's exactly why we need to treat it like more than numbers.
From what I've studied in paranormal phenomena, patterns often follow rules we can't see at first. Timing, energy, intent… they're just as important as dates and likes. This isn't random—it's deliberate."
'They don't realize how dangerous it could be if we misread it,' Jenna thought, pacing slightly. 'It's already chosen, and every misstep matters.'
Courtney leaned forward, eyes wide. "So… what you're saying is, we combine everything. Analytics, engagement, timestamps, but also… some kind of… energy signature? Something that explains why it reacts the way it does?"
Jenna nodded, hair falling into her face as she ran a hand through it. "Exactly. You can't just rely on numbers. Whatever this is, it's aware, conscious maybe.
If we ignore the… intangible side, we'll never understand it."
Christopher's gaze flicked between them. "So, in other words, we're tracking a digital ghost."
Jenna's lips pressed into a thin line, eyes darkening. "More like a predator disguised as an algorithm. And it doesn't forget."
Courtney's pulse quickened, a shiver running down her spine. 'A predator… and it's been watching me.' She glanced at her phone, sitting innocently on the table, its screen dark, unaware of the storm it had invited.
Christopher groaned. "I hate when you sound like a detective. But… fine. Let's start with the obvious, Tyler. What was his last post?"
Courtney tapped her phone furiously. "It was a prank compilation, nothing major. But look at this…" She scrolled to the post, showing him the analytics.
"Nine ninety-eight likes. Then nine ninety-nine. Then…" Her thumb hovered. "One thousand."
Christopher leaned closer. "And he collapsed at the exact same time the counter hit that number?"
"Yes. Live. His stream was still on when…" Courtney's voice trailed. "I mean, it's… it's almost like someone or something, was watching."
A pause. The only sound was the faint hum of Courtney's computer.
"What about the others?" Christopher asked carefully. "Anyone else you've noticed? Patterns before Tyler?"
Courtney hesitated. "Maybe Mia? She… she vanished for a week last year after a post went viral. Everyone assumed she just needed a break.
But she came back different. Quieter. Scared of showing her analytics."
Christopher frowned. "And Aaron? He's always live-streaming. Doesn't he ever hit a high like count?"
"Yes. But he keeps his numbers slow, calculated," Courtney said. "Never more than a few hundred in one hour. He's careful. Obsessed with avoiding virality."
Christopher nodded slowly. "So some of them know… or at least feel it. Others…" His voice trailed off. "Others don't. And that's why Tyler—"
"—died," Courtney finished grimly.
Christopher's phone pinged. A notification from a private group chat:
'CREATOR HOUSE – 2023'
"Look at this," he said, showing Courtney. The chat was buzzing with panic. Other creators posting messages about Tyler, some expressing disbelief, others… strange comments.
BeastyLife: "This can't be real. Tyler was fine an hour ago."
AaronP: "It's like… numbers matter more than we thought."
JennaV: "Stop joking, guys. He's dead."
Courtney's stomach churned. "Everyone's speculating, but no one's connecting the dots. Yet."
Christopher leaned closer. "We need to be the ones who connect them. Carefully. Quietly. Otherwise, we could be next."
Courtney swallowed hard. "Do you think… it's the likes themselves? That the number—"
Christopher shook his head. "I don't know. Could be coincidence, could be… something else. But the pattern is real. And it's not slowing down."
Courtney's thumb hovered over her phone. Her latest post was approaching a thousandth likes.
Her heart skipped a beat.
"Chris," she whispered, "what if this isn't just Tyler?"
Christopher didn't answer. He didn't need to. They both knew the answer.
Somewhere in the digital world, the count was waiting.
And the next creator was already in its sights.