The Follower Who Wasn’t Real

They liked every post. Commented on every video. And then... they showed up at my door.

We all crave attention online. Let’s be honest.

When my TikTok blew up last October - some dumb "Haunt Your Ex" trend I posted for fun - I gained 82,000 followers in three days. It was overwhelming. Amazing. Addictive.

But out of those thousands of fans, one stood out.

Their username was @nosha***99.

And they never missed a post.

The Comments Got Creepy - Fast

At first, their comments were normal:

“you’re so underrated.”

“can’t stop watching this, wow.”

Then things shifted.

“you looked scared when you filmed this one. why?”

“i liked the way your curtains moved at 3:12.”

“don’t forget to lock your balcony tonight :)”

I laughed it off. Blocked them. But they made new accounts. Every time. Same user pic. Same vibe.

And always, the username had “99” in it.

The DMs Were Worse

They started sending me clips I never posted.

A short of me brushing my teeth.

A five-second video of me crying in bed.

I thought my phone was hacked - until I realized: these were taken from outside my window.

From across the street.

Through the blinds.

I called the cops. They said I probably had a stalker and to be careful. That was it.

Then They Left a Comment That Froze My Blood

“look behind you.”

It was on a video I posted at 2AM. Just me talking about weird online interactions - being a little dramatic for clout, I’ll admit.

But I rewatched the clip. At exactly 0:44, a figure moves behind me. Tall. Pale. No shadow.

I didn’t see it in real life. Didn’t notice while recording. But TikTok caught it.

And @nosha***99 knew it was there.

The Thing About Viral Fame? You Can’t Delete Fear.

I stopped posting. Deleted the app. Changed my number. Moved out of my apartment.

Weeks went by. Silence.

Then one day, I got a package at my new place. No return address.

Inside was a cracked phone.

It was mine - the one I lost months ago.

The screen flickered when I picked it up. One video file. Untitled.

I pressed play.

It was me. Sleeping.

Shot from inside the room.

And in the reflection of the mirror - they stood behind me.

It Was Never a Follower.

It wasn’t a person. It wasn’t a fan.

It was something else.

Something that found me through the screen.

A thing that noticed I was lonely. That I wanted to be seen. That I wanted to go viral.

And now it follows me. Not online.

Everywhere.

What Do You Believe In More - Ghosts or Algorithms?

💬 Do you think spirits can travel through our screens? Has anything ever followed you after you went viral?

Tell me your creepiest digital horror story in the comments - maybe we’re not as alone as we think.