This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Urban_II on 2024-10-11 01:19:09+00:00.

I work the night shift at a data center, from 10 at night until 6 in the morning. My job is network monitoring: basically, I stare at a computer screen all night watching for alarms. Once per shift, I walk back to the server racks and make sure all the cooling systems are functional. Assuming nothing is wrong, which is almost always the case, I am free to browse the internet until morning.

Last week seemed to be no different. After receiving the turnover from the evening shift, I settled in for another boring night. I read through the day’s emails, opened my monitoring software and camera feed, and started looking for the night’s entertainment. My typical activity is to freak myself out by watching scary stories on YouTube. The environment is perfect: lights dimmed, all alone in an empty building for hours. I pulled up a compilation of “terrifying true scary stories” and let my imagination run wild.

I was absorbed into the tense story of a hiker pursued by an unknown entity in the woods, my vision narrowed in on the screen and senses on alert, when I thought I noticed movement on one of the cameras monitoring the server racks. I felt a pang of anxiety and my heart jumped, but this was not my first time intentionally frightening myself, and paranoia is inevitable in this situation. I put the camera feed into full screen. The lights were all off in the data hall, as they should be. They only turn on when there’s movement. Just my imagination. Still, I kept the panel opened in full screen while I went back to my video, glancing back occasionally. Not five minutes later, I saw a shadow again out of the corner of my eye. Looking at the camera feed, I still couldn’t see anything, and the lights were still off, but I knew I saw something move.

I got up from my desk and walked out into the hallway, then through an access door into the data hall. The rows of fluorescent lighting all clicked on at once, flooding the room in light. I paused to let my eyes adjust and tried to slow my breathing. I strained to hear any signs of movement somewhere in the racks, but the drone of the servers covered up any noise.

With mounting dread, I began checking between the rows. With each corner I rounded, I felt my panic grow. My heart pounded louder than the scream of the servers. As I approached the last row, I knew that whatever I saw would be so unthinkably horrible, my body would not be able to bear it. I could barely breathe, my hands and face were dripping cold sweat, and I felt the urge to vomit. I willed myself forward and, in a moment that felt like an eternity, rounded the corner and saw-

Nothing. I was alone, of course. I let myself get freaked out again from those stupid videos. Relieved, I went back to my desk. I switched over to a documentary on fighter jets, and the rest of the night passed uneventfully.

At last, morning came. The morning shift came in with his usual hangover, and we discussed the (non)events of the night. After exchanging a few pleasantries, I packed up to head home. On my way to my car, I noticed something under my windshield wiper. Drawing closer, I saw that it was a Polaroid picture. With trembling hands, I picked it up from under the blade and held it up to my face.

Rows of server racks in a brightly lit room. I stood facing away from the camera, preparing to look around a corner. In the middle of the frame, reaching out from behind the camera, a man’s hand clutched a knife.