Monitor Keeps Going Black For A Few Seconds Novels & Stories

Each a different man in their position. Grabbing a cold beer from the cooler, I lean back, propping my heeled feet up, and getting comfortable. I'm eady for an incredible show. One that should be starting any moment. I squint at the screen, looking at square sixteen. I saw a red flash before the camera goes blank. A few moments later, another red flash, and another camera goes offline. My men are wearing earpieces, but I’ve found that werewolf hearing is better than human and they would certainly hear if I chimed in, so I remain silent, gritting my teeth as I stare at the monitor.

a guard replied. On the center screen, a small yellow icon began to flicker. Miller frowned, leaning closer to the console. It was a diagnostic alert for the corridor leading to the executive rest area and the private offices. "Tech, I’ve got a flicker on cam 112," Miller said. "Checking," a voice replied from the IT room. "Looks like a routine synchronization lag. We’ve been updating the firmware on the western hub all morning. It should reset in sixty seconds." Miller watched the screen. The image of the empty hallway staggered, froze for a beat, and then turned to a flat, uniform gray.

Vivian asked quietly, scanning her own monitor. "Nothing yet," Isabella said. "Which either means Draganov's holding back until he sees an opening, or means we've successfully closed every avenue he might have used to fund a last minute change of plan." She didn't fully believe the second possibility, though she found herself hoping for it anyway, some small, exhausted part of her simply wanting one evening where hope proved more accurate than fear. For nearly ninety minutes, nothing happened at all. Then, at exactly 8:47, one of the monitors flickered, a camera feed near the north service entrance dropping out entirely, replaced by static.

Unknown POV The timer on my microwave hit zero with a cheerful beep. I grabbed the plate before the sound had a chance to repeat, tossed a pizza roll into my mouth, and immediately regretted it. “Hot.” I talked around the mouthful anyway, waving my free hand in front of my face while I crossed the room. Five monitors stretched across the wall in front of my desk, each one displaying something different. One tracked network traffic. Another mapped connection routes. A third listed packet timestamps that most people wouldn’t know how to read if their life depended on it. The other two… Those were where the fun happened.

Trembling, she stood alone in the security office and watched that blurred recording until the screens suddenly turned into black. Her heart jolted, then she called out to the security guard and asked, “What happened? Why did the recording stop here?” “Oh, there was a problem in the neighborhood monitor’s circuitry during the later part of the evening. We just got it fixed this morning,” he explained.

Monk Martin mumbled, grabbing another computer. He typed for a long time on the screen with a frown but suddenly the screens went off. “ What the heck??” Monk Martin yelled, grabbing his phone to check what happened. “ It was hacked??” He mumbled to himself with a smirk before running to his room upstairs still frowning. He barged in and grabbed the last surviving computer. He typed repeatedly for close to an hour with a deep smirk. He almost laughed out when the screen went blank and he screamed out again.

"Just pray the master can solve this problem as soon as possible, Miss. It's not easy to manage the coherent cables alone, which should be done together." "Together?" Rose's voice bitterly questioned that one word. "Theo was supposed to be there alone, but none of us could help him?" "Sorry, miss. We're just following orders. We need to be sure you can—" Travis' sentence was cut off as the monitor screen suddenly went dark. The remaining minutes had run out. What had happened was enough to make Rose unable to stop the water from falling freely down her face. For a few moments Rose said nothing as the others attempted to restore the monitor display—the problem was with the hack that lost acce

Coffee cups appeared on the desks. Some analysts rubbed their eyes but no one stopped working. Yvonne remained near the main screen the entire time. Her eyes followed the blinking signal. Adrian checked the logs again. “Still unstable,” he said. Marcus looked at the clock. “Keep going.” Another hour passed. The signal flickered again. Then suddenly the main monitor flashed. One analyst straightened in his chair. “Wait.” Everyone looked at him. “What is it?” Marcus asked. The analyst leaned closer to his screen.

I say quietly. “…I’ll try not to.” “…that’s not good enough.” “…it’s all I’ve got.” I shake my head slightly. “…then get more.” A faint huff of laughter escapes him. “…bossy.” “…learned from you.” “…clearly.” And for a moment— just a moment— everything feels normal. Almost. Until— The monitor glitches again. Just slightly. A flicker. But enough. We both notice instantly.

The man typed quickly on the computer, and the images appeared on the monitors. Alexei crossed his arms, his eyes fixed on the screens. The first few minutes showed only snow falling in front of the gates. Then a staff member doing the shift change, the steam of his breath visible in the cold air. A few more minutes. Still nothing. Then the image froze. For exactly one second, the screen flickered, an almost imperceptible glitch. When it returned, the clock in the upper right corner had jumped forward almost four minutes. Alexei remained completely still.