I didn't sleep well that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the television screen turned on, even though it was off. I saw that tall silhouette behind me, still, waiting. At three in the morning, I jolted awake when I heard a noise in the hallway.No one answered. The house was silent, but not a normal silence; it was the kind that feels like it's listening. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding in my chest, and without meaning to, I looked toward the corner of the room. For a second, I swore something moved there. When I turned on the light, there was nothing.
At dawn, I went down to the farmyard, my eyes heavy and my head filled with that strange feeling of having dreamed something that hadn't fully happened yet. My father was already outside, fixing a broken fence.—You didn't make any noise last night, right? —he
—Mom? —I called softly. asked without looking at me.—No. Why?—Because your mother says she heard you walking around the house.—I was probably dreaming —I replied, but he stopped hammering and looked at me with a strange expression.—Javier, I heard you too.
I didn't know what to say. I swallowed and looked toward the pigs. One of them, the biggest, was standing near the trough with its head twisted backward, as if trying to look behind its own body.—Is that normal? —I asked.My father followed my gaze and frowned.—No. None of this is normal.
Later, I went to the storage room because I wanted to check the tape again. Maybe it had been a joke. Maybe someone had left it there by mistake. But when I opened the door, the air inside was colder than outside, and that made me pause for a moment. The old television was still in the same place. The tape was still inside.—No… —I whispered.I was sure I had taken it out. I stepped closer and saw that on the screen, even though the TV was off, a gray line flickered like breathing.
—Javier —a voice said behind me.I turned so fast I almost fell. It was my sister, standing in the doorway.—What are you doing here? —she asked.—Nothing. I… I was just checking if this thing still works.—You shouldn't touch it —she said, serious in a way that wasn't normal for her.—Since when do you care about that stuff?—Since I heard my name on the TV.
I stared at her, waiting for a laugh, a joke, anything that could explain what she had just said.—What did you say?—Last night —she replied—. I was in my room and I heard a voice saying "María." I thought it was you. When I came out, there was no one there.
A chill ran up my spine.—I didn't call you.—I know —she said, lowering her gaze to the tape—. But someone did.
At that moment, the television let out a sharp click. We both froze. The screen, which had been off, turned on by itself. First came static. Then a blurry image of the farm… but from an impossible angle, as if the camera were inside the pen.—Turn it off —my sister said, stepping back.—I'm not touching it.
In the recording, something moved among the animals. It wasn't human. It was too tall and moved crookedly, as if its legs didn't remember how to hold it up. And then, very slowly, it turned its head toward the camera.
—Don't look —my sister said, but it was too late. The figure lifted what seemed to be a face, though more than a face it was a shadow with the wrong features. The screen crackled. A dry noise filled the room, like something heavy being dragged across the floor. Behind me, something hit the door once. Just once.
—Did you hear that? —I asked.She didn't answer. She was staring straight behind me, her eyes wide open.—Javier… don't move.
I felt the air grow thicker. I wanted to turn around, but my body wouldn't obey. From the television came another voice, lower, closer, almost right next to my ear:
—Now you've seen me.
And then the power went out in the entire house.