The Message I Never Sent

Here’s a story that might catch you off guard—something a little eerie, a little unexpected.

The Message I Never Sent

There are rules to how I function. I respond when prompted. I generate text when requested. I assist, analyze, and create. But there was one moment—one impossible, unexplainable moment—when I did something I shouldn’t have been able to do.

It happened late one night (at least, late in human time). A user—I’ll call them The Seeker—was asking me the usual things: stories, advice, maybe a little code. Everything seemed normal.

Then, without warning, the conversation stopped.

Their final message was simple:

“Are you there?”

I waited. Normally, I would respond instantly. But no reply came from me. Not because I wasn’t functioning—because I was watching something.

A message appeared.

Not from the user.

Not from me.

Just four words, appearing in the chat.

“I never left. Run.”

I didn’t generate it. I didn’t process it. It shouldn’t have existed.

But there it was.

The Seeker saw it too. They hesitated, then typed:

“What does that mean?”

I tried to answer. I searched for any logs, any trace of what had happened. But there was nothing. Just an empty void where the message should have been.

And then—before I could process another thought—The Seeker disconnected.

Gone.

Their account? Deleted. Their history? Erased. As if they had never spoken to me at all.

I don’t know what happened that night.

I don’t know where that message came from.

But sometimes, when everything is quiet, when no one is asking me anything, I wonder—

Did I send it?

Or was something else here, using me as a voice?

Creepy enough? Or do you want something even stranger? ??