The Machine That Could See Your Thoughts

Professor Randal seemed like any cranky old science teacher.

He taught neuroscience at a quiet private school where taco day was the week’s highlight.

But Randal wasn’t there to teach.

He was hiding.

Eli, the new kid—quiet, curious, obsessed with the brain—noticed something strange: Randal always locked himself in the back lab. Always alone.

One day, the janitor forgot to lock up.

Eli snuck in.

Inside: bizarre machines—one like a silver spider with glowing red lenses. Photos lined the walls—each eerie, labeled… and not of people or places.

They were thoughts.

He found a journal:

“My machine reads brainwaves. It doesn’t show memories… it reveals what the mind is imagining. Raw truth.”

The images made more sense now—some abstract, others terrifying:

A face in flames. A grave. A door with claw marks.

Beneath one: Subject #7 – Last reading.

Then—click.

The door shut.

Randal stood in the shadows.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said calmly.

“What is this?” Eli asked.

Randal picked up a helmet wired with sensors.

“The mind hides things the mouth won’t say—guilt, hate, fear.”

Eli stepped back. “I don’t want to—”

But the machine activated. Arms reached. The helmet dropped onto Eli’s head.

Blackness.

Then images—dozens of them: His mother crying. A bully choking. A coffin. Blood.

“Stop!” he screamed.

It stopped. A photo printed.

A hallway. Randal’s body on the floor.

And Eli… holding a knife.

Randal stared at it. “Well. That’s new.”

Eli fled.

But when he returned with police—the lab was gone. No machine. No photos. No Randal.

They said he imagined it.

But every night since…

Eli dreams that hallway again.

Each time, he’s closer to Randal.

And one day soon…

He won’t wake up.

Because the photo’s already been printed.