Scream

At 2:15 AM, my phone beeped: "Movement at the door." Expecting to see a drunken neighbor, I opened the app. A figure in a cloak and a "Scream" mask stood frozen in the IR light on the screen. She held a piece of paper: "YOU ARE NEXT."
"Get out, I'm calling the police!" I shouted into the microphone. The figure didn't move.
I looked out the window—the porch was empty. But the picture on my phone was the same. Looking more closely at the screen, I went cold: in the video, behind the stranger, was my car. But I'd dropped it off for repairs yesterday. This wasn't a live broadcast, but a recording from the future.
At that very moment, the familiar creak of an ungreased hinge was heard in the hallway. I slowly turned around. Standing in the dark hallway was the figure from the video, holding the same piece of paper.