00:00I work in a law office. Filing, copying, administrative work. Pretty standard stuff.
00:07There's a copy machine in the back room. It's an old model, clunky and loud, but it usually works
00:13just fine. Two weeks ago, that changed. I went to make copies of a 20-page contract. I placed the
00:20first page on the glass and pressed the copy button. The machine hummed its usual tune,
00:25and a moment later, the page came out. Primetta picked it up. It was the contract,
00:30but there was something extra. Into margin there was small, handwritten text. It said,
00:36don't make the copy. I looked at the original page on the glass. It was completely clean.
00:43No handwriting. I figured it was just a smudge, maybe some old ink from a previous job.
00:48So, I made another copy of the same page. The handwriting was there again.
00:53But testing the message was different. It said, you should've stopped. Same handwriting.
01:00My heart started to beat a little faster. I opened the copier. Looked inside nothing.
01:06Clean glass. No strange marks. Just a normal, empty copier. Feeling a bit spooked, I decided to
01:14just get the job done. I put the second page of the contract on the glass and hit copy.
01:18The new page came out. Into margin another message. It's watching you copy.
01:29That was it for me. I stopped, gathered the weird copies, and threw them in the shredder.
01:35I told my supervisor the copier was malfunctioning, printing strange things. She said she'd call
01:41the repair company. The next day, a technician came. He checked the machine, ran a test copy,
01:47and of course, everything came out clean. No handwriting. He told me it was working perfectly.
01:53I started to think maybe I'd imagined the whole thing. Stress, you know?
01:59That afternoon, I needed to copy a one-page memo. I hesitated, then told myself I was being silly.
02:06I went to the back room and used the copier. The copy slid into the tray. I picked it up.
02:12In the margin, my name was written. Just my name. Over and over. Filling the entire margin in that
02:18same strange handwriting. I checked the original memo. Nah. I don't know why, but I made another copy.
02:26This time, the handwriting was different. Larger? Messier? Angrier? It said,
02:32I know where you sit. I quickly looked around the room. It was completely empty. I felt a chill run
02:38down my spine. I left a copy on the machine and went back to my desk, trying to act normal.
02:45An hour later, I saw a paper on my desk. It was the copy I'd left on the machine. But
02:50now,
02:50there was more writing. Scrolled all over the entire page. I see you. I watch you. Every day.
02:57At your desk. I asked everyone in the office if they'd put it there. No one had. Everyone denied
03:04even going near the copy room. That night, I stayed late. I had to know what was going on.
03:10The office was quiet. Almost unnervingly so. I went to the copy room and decided to test the
03:15machine one more time. I took a blank sheet of paper and placed it on the glass. I made a
03:20copy of
03:20pure nothing. The page that came out was not blank. It was a photo. Grainy.
03:26Black and white. Like an old security camera still. It was a picture of me. Sitting at my desk.
03:33Taken from behind. But no one else was in the office. It was. Hasmi. Ah. My hands were shaking.
03:41But I had to see more. I made another copy of the blank page. Another photo appeared. This one was
03:48of
03:48me walking toward the copy room. Taken from the doorway. Ispuna round, half expecting to see someone
03:54standing there. Nothing. The hallway was dark and empty. I copied again. Another photo. It was me,
04:03standing at the copier. Right at that very moment. Looking down. The perspective was from inside the
04:09machine. Looking up. I could see the reflection of the lights on the glass. The lid slightly ajar.
04:15I was looking right down at the camera. But the copier doesn't have a camera. I slammed the lid shut,
04:20ripped the cord out of the wall, and ran out of the office. This morning when I came in,
04:26the first thing I noticed was the low hum coming from the back room. The copier was plugged in.
04:31It was running. And in the output tray, there was a huge stack of papers. They were all copies.
04:37All photos. Of me. Sleeping in my apartment. Showering. Getting dressed.
04:46Photos from this morning. Before I even left for work. I don't know what's making these copies.
04:51But it's not just at the office anymore. It has followed me home. Last night, I heard something
04:57in my apartment. A low, worry sound. Like a copier running. I followed the sound. My heart pounding
05:05in my chest. It was coming from my bedroom closet. I slowly reached for the handle and pulled the door
05:10open. Inside, there was nothing. Just my clothes hanging in the dark. But on the floor, there was
05:17a single sheet of paper. A fresh copy, still warm to the touch. It was a photo of me, standing
05:23right
05:23there, at my closet door, about to open it. Taken from inside, looking out.
05:29Out.
05:29Out.
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