It started with a simple greeting card—a bright, cheerful thing with a cartoon bunny on the front. It was a birthday gift from my estranged grandmother, sent to my old address. Inside, there was a handwritten message wishing me a happy birthday, followed by a QR code. Curious, I scanned it with my phone. A video played.

At first, it seemed like a normal home video. Grandma sitting at her kitchen table, smiling at the camera. She wished me a happy birthday again, her voice warm and familiar. But then, something strange happened. The video flickered, and the image of Grandma was replaced by a static-filled screen. A chilling voice, barely audible over the hiss, spoke.

“I’m watching you,” it said.

I shook my head, thinking I must have imagined it. I rewound the video and watched it again. The same thing happened. The static, the voice. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I tried to ignore it, to convince myself it was just a glitch. But the more I watched the video, the more convinced I became that it wasn’t.

Days turned into weeks, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. I checked my security cameras, but there was nothing unusual. I even hired a private investigator, but they found nothing. The only clue was the video greeting card.

One night, as I was watching the video again, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. In the background, behind Grandma, I saw a faint figure. It was a woman, her face obscured by shadows. She was staring directly at me.

Fear gripped me as I realized what it meant. Grandma was dead. And the woman in the video? She was the one who had sent the message.

If you’re watching this, I’m probably dead.