Horror

by Scribe Leaf Library · 1 min read · 0 views

Channel six had gone off air in 1994, but the old television in the Fenwick's basement still found it every night at 3 a.m., a solid minute of static before something that was almost a voice, almost a face, resolved just long enough to say a name. For the first two weeks, it was always someone else's name — a neighbor, a name from the obituaries, a name none of the Fenwicks recognized at all. They stopped watching after the third week, once they understood the pattern well enough to be afraid of it: the name on channel six, whoever's it was, always appeared in the obituaries within the following seven days. They unplugged the television. They gave it away. The new owner called them, confused, three months later, asking if they knew anything about channel six, and why it kept saying a name that sounded, unmistakably, like theirs.