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Panic surged. He tried to close the PDF, but the cursor wouldn't move. The text began to scroll on its own, faster and faster. The words blurred into a singular, repeating sentence: “The coffin is only as small as your fear.”

The prose was cold. It described a man waking up in a wooden box, the smell of fresh cedar filling his lungs. As Selim read, the air in his room seemed to grow heavy. The protagonist in the PDF began to scratch at the lid of the coffin, his fingernails splintering against the wood. Scritch. Scritch. Scritch. Tabut Pdf Oku

Selim looked down at his wooden desk. There, right next to his keyboard, was a fresh, deep carving of his own name. The wood shavings were still blonde and curled, as if just made. Panic surged

The lights in the apartment died. In the total darkness, the only glow came from the screen, illuminating a new line of text that hadn't been there before: The words blurred into a singular, repeating sentence:

Selim paused. The sound hadn't come from his imagination. It had come from beneath his floorboards.