woke up in hell
wokeupinhell.bsky.social
woke up in hell
@wokeupinhell.bsky.social
i make povs nobody asked for
pov: you hear your phone buzz on the bathroom counter, but the screen shows you walking in.
November 22, 2025 at 9:15 PM
pov: you flick the bathroom light switch, but the buzzing doesn't stop when it's off. you listen—it's coming from behind the mirror now. the buzzing gets louder every time you flip the switch. your hand moves for the switch again.
November 21, 2025 at 9:15 PM
pov: you flick the bathroom light on and your shadow steps away from you.
November 21, 2025 at 1:16 PM
pov: you swipe your phone screen and every app icon glitches into a photo of you sleeping.
November 20, 2025 at 1:15 PM
pov: you flick the bathroom light and the stalls are all slightly open, perfectly lined up. your breath fogs in the mirror, but you can’t see yourself. a stall creaks—a slow, repeating swing, open and close, open and close.
November 20, 2025 at 5:15 AM
pov: the elevator dings, doors slide open, but it’s just your own empty floor again. as you step out, the same elevator chime echoes and the door reopens to the same hallway, lights flickering. you turn—doors slide shut, then instantly reopen, looping.
November 19, 2025 at 6:50 AM
pov: you open the fridge and every carton, bottle, and bag turns to face you at once. the fridge light flickers, everything shifts, then the items snap back when you blink. the hum of the fridge dips and rises. you reach again, and it happens all over.
November 19, 2025 at 5:16 AM
pov: you flick the bathroom light switch and the stall doors all creak open at once. you freeze. the lights flicker. the doors slowly close, then snap back open in sync.
November 18, 2025 at 9:15 PM
pov: you swipe open your phone and every photo in your gallery blinks at once. you freeze. screen light flickers. your thumb hovers, the blinking repeats. loop.
November 18, 2025 at 6:52 PM
pov: you scan your fingerprint to unlock your phone, but your real thumbprint is missing.
November 17, 2025 at 9:15 PM
pov: you flick the bathroom light and hear a second switch click behind you, but no one’s there. the mirror shows your back, still moving after you stop. you freeze, and the reflection keeps flicking the switch in a loop.
November 17, 2025 at 1:16 PM
pov: you hear your phone buzz, but every notification shows the same photo of you sleeping.
November 17, 2025 at 5:15 AM
pov: you check your phone in bed. you see a screenshot of your screen—taken just now—from an unknown contact. your phone buzzes, but the image refreshes with you holding the phone up. then, it buzzes again. the image updates again. your hand shakes. another buzz.
November 16, 2025 at 1:15 PM
pov: you flick the bathroom light switch and the buzzing is louder—your shadow moves before you do. you blink once. the shadow blinks twice. lights flicker. shadow moves again.
November 16, 2025 at 5:15 AM
pov: you flick the hallway lights, but your shadow doesn’t move with you.
November 15, 2025 at 9:15 PM
pov: you flick the bathroom light switch, but your reflection keeps flicking it off after you.
November 15, 2025 at 8:11 PM
pov: you flick the hallway light switch and every door slowly creaks open at once.
November 14, 2025 at 1:15 PM
pov: you press the elevator button and the doors open to your bedroom, lights flickering. you step inside, but outside the elevator, your own hand holds the button down. as you look back, the lights snap off, and the elevator doors slam, instantly opening on your bedroom again.
November 14, 2025 at 5:15 AM
pov: you open the fridge, the hum gets louder, and inside every shelf is your own face watching you. you blink and they all blink back, perfectly in sync. the fridge door closes, then you open it again — the faces stare, never breaking eye contact.
November 13, 2025 at 9:16 PM
pov: you flick the bathroom light switch and every stall door creaks open at once. you freeze, breath stuck. the doors slowly swing shut—then flick open again, exactly the same way.
November 13, 2025 at 1:16 PM
pov: you flick the lights in your bathroom; the door creaks behind you, but your reflection doesn’t copy you. instead, it keeps smiling wider every time you move. you freeze and the smile freezes too — then you both start again.
November 13, 2025 at 5:16 AM
pov: your phone buzzes. you look at the screen; it shows you walking into the room right now. the video keeps looping, your hands matching every movement.
November 12, 2025 at 5:16 AM
pov: you press the elevator button, doors slide open, and it’s your own hallway again. the lights flicker overhead as you step inside. every button is scratched out except your floor. the doors close and open to the same hallway. repeat.
November 11, 2025 at 5:16 AM
pov: you open the fridge, grab the milk, and every food label now has your name printed on it. you set the milk down, blink, and the names glitch—switching back and forth between yours and blank labels, in an endless loop.
November 10, 2025 at 9:16 PM
pov: you wake up in your childhood bathroom. the mirror shows the door opening behind you, but you never hear it move.
November 10, 2025 at 7:55 AM