Leo rolled over, thumb swiping the screen awake. The live feed was dark, grainy green from night vision. He saw the usual: sofa, coffee table, the potted fern his ex had left behind. No raccoon.

The thumbnail expanded. His chest tightened.

But the alert thumbnail —the split-second image that triggered the motion event—showed a pale shape. He tapped it.

He looked at the live bedroom feed again. The corner was empty now.

But the living room feed showed the hand still on the glass. And this time, the fingers were curling inward, slowly, as if trying to pull the window open from the inside—while the room beyond remained perfectly, impossibly, empty.

Leo’s thumb hovered over the “record” button. Then he heard it—not through the app, but through his bedroom wall. A soft, wet tap. Like a palm pressing against plaster.

The clock read 3:17 AM when the notification buzzed on Leo’s phone. Not a ring—just a single, sharp chime. The kind reserved for the icsee app.

The motion log showed no new alert for the bedroom. Because, the app noted calmly, motion detection is currently disabled for this device.

He’d installed the camera two months ago. A cheap PTZ dome, aimed at the living room window. The idea was simple: catch the raccoon that kept knocking over his trash bins. But the icsee app had a motion-detection log, and at 3:17 AM, it had flagged something.

It was a hand. Pressed flat against the inside of the living room window. Fingers splayed, like someone pushing to get out.

The night vision showed his own shape under the blanket. But behind him, standing in the corner where the shadows pooled, there was a second figure. Featureless. Pale. One hand raised, fingers splayed, as if waving at the camera.

He checked the other cameras. The icsee app showed three devices: living room, hallway, bedroom. He tapped the bedroom feed.

Leo sat up. He replayed the clip. Twelve seconds of nothing, then the hand appeared from the right edge of the frame—not from the door, not from the hallway, but from the wall where no door existed. It pressed against the glass for four seconds. Then pulled back into the dark.