Monitor Keeps Going Black For A Few Seconds Novels & Stories

“The panel was restarted at nine seventeen. The process ran normally for forty-two seconds.” “And then?” I asked. Luca tapped the blank space between two timestamps. “Then there’s no log for twenty minutes.” I stared at that empty space. Twenty minutes didn’t look threatening on a screen. Just a small white gap between lines of black code. A little place holding nothing. The problem was, emptiness was rarely ever empty. “No log because the device was off?” I asked. “We can’t confirm that yet.” “You said it was restarted.” “The restart completed. The system came back online. Then event logging stopped for twenty minutes before coming back with no error message.”

I say and watch as he puts on that facade that makes everyone believe he has his shit together. "My security system. You're the man, aren't you?" he asks, flicking on to his monitors. I remember looking directly over Sierra's shoulder to find her watching all of the house monitors and the grounds, too, but only some of them were on. "Yes", I say before adding, "What's wrong with your systems?" I know exactly what's wrong with them. I just like seeing him squirm. Priceless. "This keeps happening", he says, showing me his monitor. Once again, there are some cameras that aren't showing anything. Blank. Nada on screen.

In the security room, one of the monitors suddenly went dark. "Camera four just died," the younger guard said, tapping the screen. "Probably just a technical problem," his partner replied. "These old systems act up sometimes." But then another camera went black. And another. "Something's wrong," the guard said, reaching for his radio. "This is Control calling all units." Silence. He tried again. "Control to perimeter, do you copy?" No response came through the radio. The guard felt his heart start beating faster. "We need to check on the others," he told his partner.

Every light in the room dimmed, then brightened again as the frequency began to pulse in rhythm with the storm outside. Damian’s hand hovered over the final key. “Once I hit this, he’ll know where we are.” Eli hesitated. “Then do it fast.” Damian pressed the command. The monitors flared white—lines of data streaming faster than the eye could follow. Eli’s heart pounded. “Is it working?” Damian’s voice was low. “It’s working too well.” Then the lights cut out. All of them. For a second, only the sound of the storm outside remained. Then, in the darkness, one monitor flickered back to life.

He nodded quickly, turning around and dropping into his chair. "Fine. Camera four. Ten minutes ago," Mike mumbled, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The center monitor flickered, bringing up the black-and-white feed of the concrete hallway. "Play it at normal speed," I instructed, leaning over his shoulder. On the screen, the empty hallway sat silent. The time stamp ticked forward in the bottom right corner. 09:41:12. 09:41:13. Then, the screen violently stuttered. A wave of digital static ripped across the monitor, pixelating the image into a chaotic mess of gray blocks. The feed jumped, freezing for a split second before cutting directly to black.

A sharp crack broke the silence in the living room. The bracelet hit the hard marble floor, and the gem shattered into pieces. At that instant, everything around me stood still. I stared at the broken pieces on the floor, my mind going blank. Susan shrieked and took a step back. Jason swiftly grabbed Susan's hand and anxiously checked the back of her hand and her calves. "Did you get cut by the shards? Does it hurt?" He was finally relieved after making sure that Susan wasn't hurt. He turned around and stared at me, frozen in place, my face pale.

The green lines of code on the main screen suddenly began to stutter, turning a violent, blinding amber color before completely dissolving into chaotic strings of corrupted text. CRITICAL ERROR: LATENCY CORRUPTION DETECTED. INTERNAL DIRECTORY WIPED: 100% HOST DATABASE COMPROMISED. "What... what is this?" Valerie’s voice dropped to a horrified shriek as she lunged toward the console, pushing Davis out of the way. She furiously tapped the screen, but the terminal was completely locked, a single, looping line of text overwriting her entire private server. PROPERTY OF ARIA INITIATIVE. THANK YOU FOR THE TELEMETRY.

She told herself several times, standing outside the small monitoring room down the hall, her hand hovering near the door handle, her heart doing something uneven and fast against her ribs. She went in anyway. The screen tracking the front gate showed his car moving steadily along the main road, the timestamp ticking quietly in the corner. Sera watched it for several minutes, telling herself she would leave the moment the feed became boring enough to justify walking away. It never got the chance to. The picture dissolved into static without warning, the timestamp freezing mid second, the feed simply gone. Sera's breath caught hard in her throat. She tried the adjacent cameras, the ones cover

*Vivienne* The numbers hit zero. The green light on the router died. The old computer monitor flickered once, turned bright white, and then went completely black. A single line of text appeared in the center of the dark glass: SYSTEM TERMINATED. The mercenary with the shotgun did not move. He stood in the broken doorway, the cold river wind blowing his dark hair across his face. His knuckles were white around the grip of his weapon, but he wasn't aiming it anymore. He was staring at the dead screen like he was looking into an open grave.

Silence returned. He walked back to his desk and reviewed the schedule. Daily medical updates. Weekly full evaluations. Nutritional tracking. Psychological assessments. Everything aligned. Everything accounted for. There would be no room for deviation. No room for error. That was the standard. He picked up the tablet again. Paused. Then opened the live feed once more. Not the entire system. Just one camera. The bedroom. Maui was still there. But now she was asleep. Lying on her side. One arm tucked slightly beneath her.