Tnt Imageboard ((exclusive)) ⇒

The post count was climbing. 34 replies. 67. 89. Each one a coordinate, tightening the net like a snare. Then, reply #98: 41.8810° N, 87.6300° W — the exact spot my desk chair was sitting on.

Reply #99 was a single image. A screenshot of my computer desktop from five seconds in the future. It showed my browser, TNT imageboard open, my cursor hovering over the reply button.

I opened it. The photo was of my own face, sleeping, taken from the foot of my bed. The timestamp was three minutes from now. tnt imageboard

I thought it was an edgy rebrand. I clicked through.

The last thing I saw was the flash—not of a camera, but of a sudden, silent light from every window of my apartment above. And then the TNT imageboard logged me out. The post count was climbing

I tried to reply. “Who is this?” The page glitched. An error message appeared: TRIPCODE MISMATCH. YOU ARE THE OP.

My heart did a stupid little flip. I’m a bored sysadmin with too much time and a VPN. I started digging. The timestamps were all in the future—usually by 48 to 72 hours. And every single thread ended the same way: after 100 replies, a final post from the OP, always the same three words: “Check the news.” Reply #99 was a single image

I froze, coffee cup halfway to my lips. My window faced the street. I looked. The same cracked sidewalk. The same graffiti on the dumpster. The same red sedan with the flat tire. It was my view. From my own phone. But my phone was in my pocket.