Leo’s breath caught. The shape shifted, crawled out of frame, and the camera’s red IR lights flickered—once, twice—before the feed went black.
Another notification.
The box was nondescript brown cardboard, but the label said everything: Tapo C200 PC . tapo c200 pc
Just the sound of a motor. Testing. Waiting.
He set motion detection, scheduled recording for work hours, and forgot about it. Three weeks later, the notification came. Leo’s breath caught
He reset the camera, changed the password, and pointed it toward the door instead. Next night. 3:15 AM.
On his PC, the last frame of the corrupted recording was still open: a single line of white text embedded in the noise. The box was nondescript brown cardboard, but the
He checked the app history. No one else had access. No firmware update logs. No remote connections.