I’m a small-time gaming streamer. I have zero mechanical skill, yet somehow, I’m on a massive winning streak. Even with my mods spamming gifted subs, my channel was pretty dead. That is, until I got matched against a pro player, and my viewer count exploded. But before I could even get excited about the clout, a loud crash came from my living room. Chat started spamming "LUL cat is destroying the house," but I just picked up my sleeping kitty from my lap, held her up to the cam, and waved her paws. "Nope, Mittens is right here. I live alone." The chat went dead silent for a solid minute. Then, the messages came flooding in: Who is in the living room? I calmly closed my eyes, did a quick mental reading, and said, "Oh, don't worry. It's just a serial killer." Chat instantly exploded. They asked how I knew. I kept my eyes on the game, farming minions. "I manifested the answer." Before chat could roast me for capping, the door behind me slowly creaked open. A man stood there, knife in hand, staring at me with dead, cold eyes. Chat screamed at me to run. I shrugged. "It’s fine. Let me win this match first. I’m laning against a pro." Chat: "???" 1 I’m a variety streamer. Specifically, the kind who sucks at games but somehow never loses. My mechanics are trash—I flash into walls constantly—but I have an edge: I’m psychic. I literally predict when the enemy jungler is ganking, or exactly when they’ll start Baron. So, yeah, I win. I can’t help it. I’m the top prodigy of the mystic arts. I spent my whole youth studying the occult and working in the field. My only dream now is to be a degenerat—I mean, a gamer. Streaming is just a side hustle because my clients threatened to hunt me down if I didn't give them a way to contact me. I refuse to go back to a 9-to-5 exorcism job. So, I stream. Thanks to my clients whaling on donations, I get on the front page sometimes, but I never really went viral. Until today. I queued up for a ranked match, and suddenly 50,000 people flooded the lobby. I thought my mods bought view-bots again, so I ignored it and locked in my champion. Halfway through the game, I noticed the chat warring. "This is sus. How does she know exactly when to dodge?" "First time? I've watched her for six months. She literally never loses." "Scripting? Or is the enemy team wintrading?" "Are you dumb? Look who she's playing against. That’s Cloud. You think a World Champion is wintrading for a 20-viewer Andy?" "True... if Cloud wasn't on the enemy team, I wouldn't even be here." I glanced at the chat, did a quick calculation on my fingers, and giggled. "Oh, so that's Cloud? Nice. Looks like I’m beating a pro today." Chat immediately turned on me. "She's hot, but delusional." "Waste of a pretty face." "You're down 2k gold and think you're gonna win? Stick to Just Chatting." "Cloud is gonna stomp you. FF at 15." 2 I ignored the haters and focused on my lane. I already foresaw the outcome. I’m winning this. Who’s gonna call me trash when I solo kill a World Champ? The trolls got bored when I didn't rage bait, so a lot left. Only the loyal fans and the confused Cloud viewers stayed. Mid-game, someone typed: "It's super loud on your end. What's that banging?" "Does she have a dog?" "She has a black cat. Maybe it knocked over a shelf?" "LMAO go check, sounds like your apartment is getting wrecked." I recalled to base to heal and saw the message. I picked up Mittens, my black cat sleeping on my lap, and held her up like Simba. "Mittens is asleep, guys. And I live alone." Crash. Bang. The noise from the living room got louder. Like someone ransacking the place. Chat went silent. Then the panic set in. Who is out there? I kept farming. "Oh, that? Don't worry. It's just a serial killer." Chaos. Absolute chaos. Maybe someone in Cloud’s chat mentioned it, because my viewer count doubled instantly. "??? Is this a bit? Lock the door! Call 911!" "She's joking, right? How would she know it's a serial killer without looking?" "Not funny. I almost called the cops." "Is she okay in the head? Pretty privilege really lets you say anything." "I came for the cat, leaving because of the cringe." "Focus on the game, streamer. You don't need to make up stories for clout." I didn't look away from the screen. "Huh? I'm not lying. I divined it." Before chat could flame me again, the door behind me creaked open. In the webcam frame, a gap appeared. Then a face. Then a knife, glinting in the LED strip lights. 3 Chat went nuclear. "WTF" "Is that a paid actor??" "BEHIND YOU! LOOK BEHIND YOU!" "RUN! HE HAS A KNIFE! IT'S REAL!" "Forget the game! Someone doxx her so we can send the cops!" "She's so calm... it has to be a skit." "Bro, who skits a home invasion? Real or not, someone call the police!" "Wait, isn't she in LA? There's been a slasher news story recently... the guy hasn't been caught." "OMG IT'S HIM. I RECOGNIZE THE HOODIE." "Stop playing! He's inside!" "I can't watch this." I dodged a skill shot, glanced at the second monitor, and said flatly, "Chill. Let me win this. It’s Cloud." Chat: "???" "Is she insane?! RUN!" "Brain damage confirmed." "HE'S RAISING THE KNIFE!" "HELP HER!" The cam clearly showed the man creeping up. On screen, Cloud’s character stopped moving. He started typing in All Chat. C9_Cloud: Mid laner, drop your address. I’m calling 911. C9_Cloud: Don’t type it. Just say it. My stream is watching. We got you. 4 The game paused. Even my teammates stopped moving to ask what was happening. I sighed. "Fine. Guess we're pausing." I swiveled my chair around to face the man. He realized I was streaming. He saw his own face on my monitor, and the wall of text screaming POLICE. He laughed, a jagged, ugly sound. "Stupid bitch. Living alone with zero awareness. I've been in here for thirty minutes." He gripped the knife tighter, veins popping. "Well, you showed my face. I can't run now. So I'm gonna peel your skin off while your fans watch." He looked terrifying. I wasn't scared. I reached out and turned off the webcam. "Mittens. Sick 'em." Chat couldn't hear me anymore. They just saw the screen go black. The text scrolled so fast it was a blur: WHERE DOES SHE LIVE? SAVE HER! The killer looked at the tiny black cat by my feet and sneered. "The cat? Really? Go ahead and scream. I’m gonna leave you in pieces." "Holy shit, this guy is psycho. I called the cops!" "Guys, Cloud says he lives in the same complex! He’s running down right now!" "Please be okay..." "Cloud better bring a bat or something."
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