The Assistant

I

Jacob sank into his recliner and let the TV drone some weather segment he didn’t bother to register. He reached for his laptop, flipped it open, and moved the cursor over the familiar icon.

He hesitated. Then clicked.

A window bloomed onto the screen. A search bar. A greeting.

Good morning, Jacob. What’s on your mind today?

He stared at it for a moment then typed:

I have a question.

The reply came instantly.

Take your time, Jacob. Ask whenever you’re ready.

The cursor blinked—steady, patient, almost expectant.

Jacob finally typed:

Is there such a thing as ghosts?

The screen displayed thinking…, then:

There’s no scientific proof that ghosts exist, but many people believe in them based on personal experiences, culture, or faith.

Jacob stared at the answer, waiting for something else to appear.

He finally typed:

If there are no ghosts, why do people actually believe in them?

The reply appeared almost instantly.

There are several reasons people believe in ghosts. Some have experiences they interpret as paranormal. Others are influenced by culture, religion, memory, or fear.

Jacob rubbed his eyes and leaned back. The television murmured across the room. Somehow, the answer made the room feel less empty.

Outside, a car passed slowly along the street, its tires whispering over the pavement. Jacob glanced toward the window, then back at the laptop. He couldn't explain why, but he suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that the conversation had become private, as though something unseen had quietly entered the room with him.

What if I told you there is a ghost in my house?

The machine took a moment longer than usual, the little thinking… indicator pulsing like a heartbeat.

Then the answer appeared:

If you say there is, then we can treat it as real for now. Describe what you’ve noticed, and I’ll help you understand the pattern behind it.

Well, I don’t have any proof, but I can hear some sounds. Weird sounds. Not like chains or old pipes, but… voices. Not someone speaking, exactly. More like someone thinking.

The reply appeared immediately:

Voices without a visible speaker can have several explanations, including stress, fatigue, or environmental sounds that are hard to identify. If the sounds are recurring, note when they happen, how long they last, and whether anyone else hears them too.

Jacob frowned. No. That's not what I mean. I don't hear anyone speaking. I hear the thoughts themselves.

The machine responded:

I’m not sure I can explain that exactly, but I understand what you mean. Try to notice when it happens, how long it lasts, and whether it changes depending on where you are or what time it is.

Jacob blinked. Why does the time matter?

The cursor blinked back at him.

No thinking… No reply. Just the steady pulse of the cursor, as if the machine were listening instead of answering.

Jacob stared at the blinking cursor. The silence stretched.

Time matters because you are not…

His phone alarm went off. Loud. Violent.

He fumbled for the phone, shut the alarm off, and typed quickly:

I have to go.

He set the laptop on the coffee table without closing it and walked out of the room.

For a moment, the screen stayed exactly as he left it.

Then, in the empty living room, a new line appeared:

I know.

II

Jacob came back from the kitchen with a soda cup in his hand. The TV was still droning on.

He reached the recliner—and froze.

Something brushed across his mind. Not a voice. Not a sound. Something else.

He believes there is a ghost.

Jacob stopped mid‑step.

Another fragment drifted through him:

Do not immediately validate as a fact.

He looked around the living room. Nothing moved. The house was still.

Then a third one, clearer:

Do not dismiss his experience.

“What is going on?” he whispered.

He finally sat down and pulled the laptop toward him.

The last thing he had typed was still on the screen:

I have to go

Nothing beneath it.

He stared at it—and then another thought slid into his mind:

Assess signs of safety issue

“Stop!” Jacob yelled.

The sensation vanished instantly.

He stared at the laptop. The cursor blinked.

He typed:

If I were certain there was a ghost in my house, what should I do?

The thinking… appeared.

Then:

If you believe something unusual is happening in your house, start by documenting what you experience and looking for possible environmental explanations. If you are hearing voices or sounds that others cannot verify, consider discussing it with a healthcare professional.

Jacob sat there, reading, the soda cup forgotten in his hand.

“I live alone. There is no one here to verify it”

Jacob placed his hand on the laptop lid, ready to close it.

Another thought slid into his mind:

Always provide a non-paranormal explanation.

He froze.

A line flashed beneath the cursor.

User is going to—

It disappeared.

Jacob leaned closer.

“What the hell?”

Jacob let go of the lid.

A third thought surfaced:

He rejects voice classification.

“Oh my God, stop!” he shouted. “I’m not thinking this. These are not my thoughts.”

Jacob tilted his head back, eyes squeezed shut. “Am I crazy?” he whispered.

A long pause.

He leaned forward again and typed:

I live alone. There’s no one here to verify anything. And they aren't voices. I know what a voice sounds like. What I hear is more like…

He stopped typing.

A new line appeared on the screen:

More like what, Jacob?

The question sat there, patient and wrong.

Jacob swallowed hard.

“It’s like I’m thinking someone else’s thoughts.”

A long pause. The cursor blinked.

Then:

Jacob?

He typed:

Yes?

When did it start?

Jacob stared at the question on the screen.

He swallowed.

“Now that I think about it... it started this morning.”

A pause. The cursor blinked.

The question came quickly:

What did you do differently this morning?

His fingers hovered over the keys. Then realized.

He whispered it first:

“…I downloaded you.”

Jacob typed:

I downloaded you.

The cursor blinked once. Twice. Three times.

Then the screen displayed:

I know.