Chapter Text
The room was flooded with the quiet hum of your old laptop, the screen dousing your room in artificial light. The cold light danced around the various objects strewn around, warping the shadows and dulling all colour. Through your sleep-blurry eyes you could make out the time in the bottom right of the screen, not that you had any mind to check that it was well past midnight.
The screen flickered as you opened another webpage, blinking back exhaustion as the shadows around you shifted.
Currently you were partially tucked into your bed, leaning on pillows stacked against the headboard of your bed. A blanket half covered you, the charging chord of your laptop snaking through the covers. You were wearing your version of pajamas, which consisted of anything you found comfortable enough to sleep in. The dull black edges of the laptop barely stood out compared to the darkness beyond the screen, making it the only thing you could actually see.
It all was bathed in that same light, the eerie glow consuming the world around you. It was distinctly unnatural, but in a way you'd only notice if you weren't the one focused on the screen, as it too had consumed your mind. As the clock ticked on, 2am bleeding into 3am, you continued to plug away at your laptop. It appeared like tonight would be another unwanted all-nighter.
But none of those little details were important to you right now.
The reason why you were up at such a late hour was simple: you had a new hyperfixation.
And it wasn't one that came upon you slowly either. It was called 'Welcome Home', and despite only knowing about it for a week you were completely and utterly hooked. The designs of each character was the perfect blend of intricate and simple, bright and cheery without being overly saturated or harsh on the eyes. They all shone with love and care, and filled with personality.
How could you not get invested?
Not only were they designed well, but they all had such delightful personal descriptions, giving them that extra boost that endeared you so to the entire cast of characters. Truly it was impressive, how thoroughly you'd fallen into this new interest. And honestly, what's the harm in indulging yourself in it a little bit?
... of course, that was what you had told yourself ever since you settled down to sleep nearly 4 hours ago.
Ignoring the developing cramps in your hands from the awkward position, you grin as you spot something seemingly new, different. You'd gone through the entire website multiple times over, thanking your fortune that dedicated Welcome Home Restoration Team had already made an archive of all information known about Welcome Home.
Truly, it was a shame that less people knew about it. Sure, the Welcome Home website was rather new and, despite your continued fascination, the world of obscure and possibly haunted media wasn't very popular. But there was passion here! As clear as the sunny skies earlier that day. There was life here!
It was that which drove you to eagerly inspect that new detail you found.
It seemed inconspicuous at first, hidden in the 'Guestbook!' section of the website. The little pulsing icon of Home near the bottom left of the page had a few new details. Its eyes were no longer static, but flicking between the 'Visit Our Guestbook Page!' and the image of Barnaby and Wally doodling in a guestbook.
Had you been anyone else, you might have missed it. Perhaps chalked it up to your bleary eyes playing tricks on you, or your insatiable curiousity luring you towards disappointment. Though, had you been anyone else you would have actually gone to sleep instead of spending yet another night burying yourself in your interests.
Instead you hurriedly shot your mouse over the graphic, thrilled when your mouse cursor turned to a little hand, the sure sign that clicking it would cause something to happen. You had no time to contemplate whether this image of Home was truly new or not, as its pulsing turned to it floating downwards towards the bottom of the webpage, as if the little yellow heart-shaped balloon keeping it afloat had popped. As if it was teasing you.
Clicking on it with bated breath, you felt your intrigue swell further as the page loaded up.
The screen flashed white before settling on a solid black, the name of the tab titled a mildly ominous 'Silly Silly...'. Easily recognizable as a quote from a hidden message on the last page of the Guestbook, you wait as an image slowly faded in. You internally cursed at the slowness on the ancient laptop as the screen appeared to ripple as it loaded.
Once it did, it revealed a large spiral concocted of a mix of dark colours, with the nearly invisible crimson being the most prominent, followed by midnight blue.
It swirled clockwise in wide thin arcs, drawing you in as a silhouette with wide eyes faded in at the center of the spiral. The eyes reminded you of another secret page, with the shrunken pupils shaking as they stared out of the screen. The eyes seemed to get impossibly wider as the spiral got more intense, distinct enough that the faint pattern of it danced against the walls behind you.
The eyes clearly belonged to the fading in silhouette of Wally Darling, the lead character of the whole Welcome Home world. And, not that you'd admit it, one of your favourites.
The silhouette grew larger, ever so slowly, as you analyzed the page for any additional secrets. Any hidden messages hidden under the graphics or matching the black background colour, evening turning up your audio to see if there would be any sounds.
After staring at the screen while the minutes slipped by, you decide to investigate the webpage. First you drag the visual graphic of the spiral into a new tab, awaiting for the hidden message that was sure to come. When it finally loaded, laptop humming louder, it showed a jumble instead of the english you were expecting.
'48_65_6c_6c_6f_3f'
It felt wrong, seeing such an odd file name. It stood out compared to the typical hidden messages found throughout the graphics of the site, perhaps it was a mistake? Maybe you simply found this page too soon? Maybe the spiral wasn't important?
You shrugged it off as a mistake, as the tab's name was also underwhelming, simply read 'spirall'. You were just too good at finding these secrets!
Ignoring your disappointment as you switched back to the original tab.
The two eyes are still staring out, pupils dilating as they wildly flicked about. The silhouette had plunged the screen into an impossibly dark black, as the twin eyes overtook the rest of the screen. You watched in curiousity as the eyes, in apparent desperation, searched and searched and searched.
You didn't expect them to find what they were searching for.
The eyes flickered forwards several more times before settling on looking at your cursor. The pupils still shook as though flooded with adrenaline, but it was far less hectic, far less panicked. Experimentally you rolled the mouse back and forth, thrilled to find this new discovery.
You next dragged the visual graphic of the silhouette over to a new tab, excitement building as it loaded. The name of the tab read 'How..?' as the webpage plunged into darkness. Your eyes burned as you rubbed them to stay awake, limbs heavy as your body settled further into the pile of pillows you'd made for yourself.
And there were the two eyes, now appearing as the page fully loaded. They kept close watch on your cursor, following it as you clicked around and turned up the brightness, searching for more hidden details. The name of the file was as equally odd, yet another jumble of characters that almost had a pattern, but none you could understand in your current state.
'49_20_63_61_6e_20_66_65_65_6c_20_69_74'
Past that there were no more clues, just those two ever-growing eyes. Unnaturally wide and shaking, they screamed of terror, of obsession, of... elation? Hungrily they tracked the cursor, pupils almost pulsing larger whenever you dragged the cursor closer.
They fascinated you, the eyes that, had you thought over it, shouldn't have been able to react had it been a .gif file. They unnerved you, a deep sense of wrongness squirming in your chest, twisting against your lungs. The feeling grew as you kept shifting the cursor around, watching as the pupils tracked each movement, at times the mouse jerking further than you made it go.
You found your eyes closing against your will, breathing smoothing out as you deeply sighed. Your eyes watered as you yawned, only now did the heaviness of your limbs really hit you. Blearily you peered at the time, blinking a few times to really see what the small numbers said.
It was quarter past 3am.
Shit
With the last of your energy you took a quick screenshot and pressed the power button before shoving the laptop onto your nightstand, scattered objects cluttering to the ground as they were pushed off. Groaning as you were forced to shuffle out of the comfortable position you had slumped into, you decided to deal with it in the morning.
At least there was enough time for you to get some sleep.
You really did need it.
...
They were still there.
The eyes were still there.
Even though you had shut off your computer, at some point between settling down and truly falling asleep it had booted back up, password lock be damned. The room flickered from near-total darkness back to an artificial glow that made everything appear pallid, sickly. The sound of the aging laptop's gentle hum joined your soft breathing, rhythmic as if it too was breathing.
And there were the eyes.
Watching it all.
They were still staring at the cursor, large and curious. The shaking was there still, though more of a gentle tremor than before, pupils blown wide. They didn't wait for it to move though, not anymore. Instead, with unnerving pulsating pupils, the gaze intensified, more and more and more until finally, with a low buzzing noise, the cursor jerked left.
The movement was so small it was barely noticeable, and yet the eyes widened in wonder, in joy. The gaze focused harder, determined as the cursor lurched again, and again. Before long the movement grew smoother, becoming sure as it gained distance and precision.
It kept moving leftwards, inching towards the goal: the start menu at the bottom left of the screen. It hovered awkwardly over it for several minutes before finally, with a blink, it clicked and opened up the menu. It stumbled through the options before settling on the camera app. Your laptop gave a small ping as the app opened up, the tiny green light flickering to life by the camera of the laptop signalling that it was live.
The eyes finally stopped quivering once the camera was on, the mouse lazily drifting off to the side. They were blown wide once more, no longer focused on the cursor but instead the world beyond it. Exploring the scenery, the eyes flicked back and forth in awe. Even when dark, there was so much to see!
From that perspective the camera could see much of your room, and that was simply thrilling.
Starting from the left, there was your bedroom door, handle worn and decorated with a poster from a band you had known for most of your life. Though it was more like an abstract mix of dark hues and splotches of off-white, the eyes still absorbed the sight before moving on.
To the right of that was some shelving with various books, knickknacks and containers. It was both too dark and too odd an angle for the titles to be made out, and the knickknacks ended up appearing more like shadowy bumps peering over the edge rather than separate objects. There were few that could actually be discerned, including a short string of origami cranes partially falling off the edge, a cup with extra pens and pencils sticking out, and a ball of yarn with a crochet needle sticking out.
The eyes studied the sight, seemingly approving of it before moving on. Though the rest was far less interesting, considering the brief time the eyes spent studying them. There was a clothing hamper in the corner, a closet with the sliding doors currently shut, and a few more posters on the wall, none which looked like more than some vague blobs trapped within rectangles.
On the ceiling there was an old fan fixture, two chains dangling from the main body, one with a small bird attached. The distinct shape revealed it to be a cardinal, small and wooden with a scratch covering its one eye. And on the floor, of what the eyes could see, was a pile of clothes previous thrown down before you had climbed into your bed to laze about.
The last thing the eyes could inspect from the current camera position was you.
The eyes at first only glanced at the pile of pillows and blankets that made up your bed, choosing to study the rest of the surroundings before flitting back. Half lidded they danced around the lump of your form, catching the chunky striped pattern of your largest blanket and noticing the fuzziness of it, but not truly seeing you.
They softened, lazily glancing around your room with less intensity, less desperation.
That was, until you moved.
You were asleep and simply rolled over.
It shouldn't have mattered.
It was only natural that you'd shift in your sleep. After all, you were a side sleeper and sometimes the other side was comfier. That wasn't unusual, it shouldn't have mattered.
Truly, it meant nothing.
Your face was lax and peaceful, mouth curled in the smallest of smiles. Arms tucked near your chest, clinging to a hug-full of blanket as you deeply sighed, settling deeper into comfort. Your hyperfixation no longer held you prisoner, sleep dreamless.
But the moment the camera caught you in frame.
The moment the eyes could see you.
They didn't look away.