Episode 31 - The Tape That Laughs

It showed up on Tuesday.

No case. No label. Just an old black VHS tape on the front desk.

Olivia blinked at it.

She didn’t hear anyone enter. The cameras didn’t catch a delivery. Bernard swore it hadn’t passed through the Archive intake system. But there it sat.

Cool. Perfectly rewound. And when she touched it— It giggled.

Not a mechanical whir. Not a squeaky reel.

A giggle.

High-pitched. Delighted. Just once.

Then silence.

She stared at it. Set it aside. Went back to work.

By noon, it was gone.

She found it again in her tea cabinet.

Nestled between peppermint and lemon ginger.

She put it in the Lost and Found box.

It reappeared on her chair.

She handed it to Bernard.

He looked at it.

Floated five inches backward.

“It likes you,” he said.

By Wednesday, the tape was riding in her tote bag.

She’d stopped questioning it.

Every time she passed a monitor, it flashed static that sounded like a chuckle. Not malicious. Just pleased.

She decided to test it.

Popped it into the Breakroom Player.

The screen lit up.

A cartoon began to play.

It was old—1950s style, inky black and white, grainy in a way that felt intentional.

A bouncy dog with a star-shaped patch over one eye danced across a background of slowly shifting dreamscapes.

He chased a butterfly through doorways, dream bubbles, clocks, and moons.

The music was soft jazz and quiet laughter.

And occasionally, the dog would stop mid-run… Turn to face the screen… And wink.

Right at her.

“Did you ever lose a pet?” Miss LaDonna asked later, watching it loop for the third time.

Olivia blinked. “I… yeah. When I was six. A terrier mutt named Tinsel.”

Miss LaDonna nodded.

“The tape remembers.”

That night, she placed the tape back in the Lost + Found box.

She left a note.

“Thank you. You can stay.”

The next morning, it hadn’t moved.

But the monitor behind her showed the cartoon dog curled up in the breakroom chair.

Sleeping soundly.