My last line deleted itself, and words I hadn’t typed appeared on the screen:
IT’S TOO LATE TO STOP WHAT’S COMING.
“This is the strangest virus I’ve ever seen,” I muttered.
NOT AS STRANGE AS THE ONE YOU’RE GOING TO GET.
How could they hear me? Was someone controlling my computer and webcam remotely?
My arm itched and burned. I scratched it, and my skin rippled. Something was burrowed underneath it. The undulations grew larger, more frantic. A stripe down my forearm split, then burst open.
Once I saw what slithered out, my computer was the least of my problems.
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