The screen flickered, a ghost of static against the dim light of Leo’s bedroom. He held the chipped plastic case like a holy relic. CHD PS2 . No official label. Just those six letters, sharpied onto a blank CD-R.
He backed into his room. Slammed the door. The console, still connected to nothing, booted itself back on.
Leo lunged for the console’s power strip. He stomped the red switch.
The hallway was still dark. And the figure was still there.
A menu appeared. No text. Just icons: a bed, a key, a pair of scissors, and a single white door.