Chapter 3 The Witch Behind the Webcam
Kai’s cursor hovered over the queue button again, the same restless bounce already back in his knee. The residual heat of the last match still sat under his skin—half frustration, half that dirty little spark he’d gotten every time they roasted her. One more game. They were still almost Global.
A soft notification pinged in the bottom-right corner of his screen.
He frowned, hit Shift+Tab, and the Steam overlay slid up. A new message sat at the top of his inbox, timestamped only seconds ago.
Emmi #streaming: Here’s the link to my twitch. Come and watch! twitch.tv/ebilwitchlady
Kai stared for half a second, then barked a short laugh. “Bruh. That chick from our last game just sent me a message. It’s a link to her Twitch. Like what the fuck?”
He alt-tabbed out of CS2 completely, the game audio cutting off mid-menu music. A quick click switched the output to the cheap desktop speakers perched on the edge of his desk. The sudden change made the basement feel bigger, the quiet between the two of them suddenly louder.
Cole rolled his chair closer, already grinning. “Dude, for real? Shit, let’s check it out. Maybe we’ll actually see some titties this time. Bet she’s one of those girls who only streams in a tank top two sizes too small.”
Kai clicked the link. Chrome opened instantly.
The page loaded in under a second—high-end stream, clean overlay, chat already flying on the right side of the screen.
The video feed filled the center: a blonde woman in her early twenties sitting in a big pink racing chair, soft studio lighting catching the sharp line of her jaw and the curve of her shoulders.
A professional mic arm hovered near her mouth.
Behind her, shelves of figures and soft purple LED strips glowed.
She looked straight into the camera and smiled like she’d been waiting for them.
“Oh hello, lovelies! Looks like our two special guests have finally decided to join us. I’m so excited!” Emmi giggled into the studio mic, the sound warm and bright and just a little too pleased. “Well, let’s not waste any more time then.”
Kai and Cole exchanged a quick glance across the dual desks—half confusion, half the same predatory interest that had been riding them all match. Neither of them looked away from the screen for long.
Emmi leaned forward a fraction, elbows on the desk, voice dropping into something almost conspiratorial. “So our friends Kai and Cole here have been really mean to me, as you’ve all witnessed. Chat’s been clipping every single second of it. I think these two need to learn a huge lesson.”
Cole’s grin faltered for the first time. “What the hell is she blabbing about? And how does she know our names?”
Kai shrugged, still not worried, still half-hard from the leftover adrenaline and the sudden visual of an actual attractive girl talking about them. “She probably stalked our Steam profiles. It’s not like we were trying to hide our first names. Chill.”
On stream, Emmi lifted her right hand and waved it slowly across the camera in a deliberate, theatrical arc—exactly like she was trying to use the Force. The motion was so over-the-top and ridiculous that both boys burst out laughing at the same time, the sound loud in the quiet basement.
“You two might be laughing now,” Emmi said, and the playful lilt in her voice vanished like someone had flipped a switch.
Her expression sharpened. The smile stayed, but it no longer reached her eyes.
“But I promise in a few seconds you won’t be laughing anymore.
Give or take a few months… you two won’t have nearly as much time to play video games. ”
The words hung in the air between the monitors and the cheap speakers.
Kai was still chuckling when the first strange sensation whispered across the back of his neck—so light he almost wrote it off as the air conditioning kicking on. Cole shifted in his chair, the sudden quiet after their laughter feeling heavier than it should have.
Neither of them reached to close the tab. Neither of them looked away. The stream kept running, and the night kept tilting.