Slipping the DVD into the player was simple business.

Estrid had had to do some fiddling with the tray, as the player had been old already and got stuck due to how long it had gone unused, but she managed it just fine in the end.

Standing up, Estrid reached her arms into the air, giving her body a nice stretch before she made her way back over to the couch, fluffy slippers making little squeaking noises against the wooden floor.

Sinking into the couch felt nice after crouching down. She relaxed, her weight leaving a slight depression in the stuffing where she sat.

She searched for her TV's remote lazily, lifting pillows to try and tossing them aside when they didn't reveal what she was looking for. The stupid thing always managed to get lost somehow.

Estrid shoved her hand down between the dull green cushion she lounged on top of and the couch's armrest. After a moment of digging, her hand came in contact with something solid and cold.

There it is. She'd found it. Some lint had gotten stuck under her nails in the process and she could feel it. Gross.

Estrid wiped the remote off on her towel and pointed it towards the TV. She was afraid that its battery had run out, as the TV hadn't done anything after she'd tried to turn it on, but a few more clicks later and the screen had gone from black to a saturated blue. The buttons were probably jammed, she'd have to figure out a way to clean them later.

She took a few moments to struggle with the HDMI setting, flipping random buttons until she found one that worked and sighed as the DVD's selection menu flicked on

It looked pretty low tech for a series that came out mid 2015. She had to ask herself if they'd really cared about the Dragons series at all as she clicked for the first episode. Dragon Eye of the Beholder, Part 1.

As the TV rolled an anti-piracy warning, Estrid had picked her bowl of Macaroni off from the coffee table with one hand. It had cooled down a considerable amount by that time, and settled it in her lap.

She used her thumbnail to try and clean out some of the lint from her pointer finger.

The screen came to life, as a plasma blast covered the front of her TV with rings of purple. Estrid brought a spoonful of mac and cheese to her mouth. Mmm.

She watched as Hiccup the Viking rode Toothless through the rings and towards a new animated set, revealing the rest of the Dragon Riders with new and improved models. She missed out on the rest of the intro while she was eating.

The moon was out, framing the rest of the world in shimmery light from up where it rested in the sky. An island lay below, surrounded by empty sea. The whole of it was covered in jagged rocks. There wasn't any foliage to be seen. Not from this far away, at least.

The camera angle changed, zooming in on a thick wooden door. It was hidden just out of sight on the side of a crag, and was reinforced by large metal screws. It was a dungeon.

Estrid shifted herself so she sat on her feet. I really should have gotten myself a drink while I was in the kitchen.

A burly viking man, adorned in a heavy metal chain armor modeled to look like the scales of dragons, ventured deep inside. He observed puddles of water and other things, the result of the stalactites which hung menacingly above and the rebellion of angry men. He made no effort to avoid them

His hairy beard swayed back and forth as he walked past rows of barred cells. He brought up a bucket from which he tossed hard loaves of bread to the prisoners inside.

He barked, "Mealtime, Maggots," and slowed as came closer to the end of the jails. There were two cells here.

He paused apprehensively.

Into the right, he tossed the same stale loaf he had been tossing to the others. To the left, he cast a small package, wrapped in cloth.

There was a scene where the close-up of a character speaking was featured, and yet no words came out of his mouth. The TV froze. Estrid sighed, used the remote to rewind the film by a couple of seconds. She felt the rubbery fast-forward button on her fingertips. She glared at the character on screen. Hopefully that would have given the TV enough time to correct itself.

[His hairy beard swayed back and forth as he walked past rows of barred cells. He brought up a bucket from which he tossed hard loaves of bread to the prisoners inside.

He barked, "Mealtime, Maggots," and slowed as came to a stop. There were two cells here.

He paused apprehensively.

Into the right, he tossed the same stale loaf he had been tossing to the others. To the left, he cast a small package, wrapped in cloth.]

"Well, That's not bread!" The prisoner to his right faced towards him, hands clamped to the bars of his cell, the horns on his helmet making short clanking noises as they made contact with hard metal, "Why does he always get special treatment?" The prisoner's face went red.

"Oh, Mr. Big Shot. Mr. Berserker Chief," he called mockingly across the cavern provocatively.

From the right cell, a shadowed figure rose from the floor. He moved forwards and into the light. A dangerously sleek, viciously scarred Viking revealed himself. Dagur The Deranged.

"You want some? Oh, hey, Come here," Dagur called, a fake smile spread across his face, "I-I'll give you some."

Both inmates were right up against the bars, now. Face-to-face with each other.

Off to the distance, someone shouted "Hand me a morsel!"

The two didn't break eye contact. In fact, it didn't look like they'd heard at all. Dagur held out his bundle with one hand.

At this point, the TV audio had begun to cut out. Dialogue varied in pitch at moments, and there was a light radio fuzz which filled the air.

Estrid hoped it would stop soon. It was screwing with her viewing experience and not to mention it was kind of creepy.

As the other prisoner reached out a hand to snatch it from him, Dagur seized his wrist. His face twisted into a nasty snarl. "I've been meaning to tell you something for the last three years," he said, with a sharp edge to his voice, "Your voice is really annoying."

Maybe the DVD had gotten damaged somehow? She'd had it happen before; discs coming packaged with scratches that clipped whole parts out of what she was watching. Ugh. Maybe I should just cut my losses.

Estrid's eyes glanced to the corner of the cabinet the TV sat on. Her phone was plugged in her room, so she had to rely on a digital clock her father had plugged in over there. Her heart gave a little tug.

She skipped ahead, shifting uncomfortably.

Hiccup leaned forward on Toothless as he spun past great sea spires. The wind ripped through his hair, blowing it wildly around his face.

"Ok, bud, let's try the new move," Hiccup exclaimed, gently patting Toothless on the head with one hand as his other gripped his saddle's handle.

Toothless shook his head like a dog and warbled back his understanding.

The two flew over a mossy spire and made a sharp dive just barely after they'd cleared its head, Toothless pulling in his wings and Hiccup retracting Toothless' prosthetic with his foot.

The wind rushed past them, a combination of Toothless' wings and momentum generating a keen whistling noise which followed them until they pushed themselves back into the sky, climbing higher and higher until they met open air.

Hiccup let out a shout of joy.

"Yeahhhh, Baby! That's it, Toothless!" By then the extra strength they'd gotten from their dive had been worn away by gravity, "Push It!"

For a moment, the show cut from Hiccup and Toothless to footage of something else.

Estrid couldn't quite catch the details, but it was dark. Where the hell had her friend gotten this CD?

With Hiccup's encouragement, the Dragon-Rider duo was able power their way farther upwards. "You got it! Climb Higher!"

Estrid rewound the film, curiosity driving her further. She pulled herself to the edge of her seat on the couch. Her knees knocked against the coffee table. Oh God.

It wasn't animated like everything else. It looked like… off to the side, there, was that a person? She assumed it to be some sort of odd, delayed prank.

If it was, the humor was awfully dated.

It would be just her luck that she ended up with some weird bootleg version of RTTE. She set down her bowl of dinner and braced her elbow against her knee so she could lean farther forward.

"Yeahhhh, Baby! That's it, Toothless!"

Estrid pressed pause. She stopped it a smidge too early. The cut hadn't even played yet. Maybe the disc wasn't scratched. Maybe it was the disc player that was the issue, here.

She hoped she hadn't accidentally given herself some kind of virus, if TVs could get viruses. Don't be ridiculous.

"Pu-!"

Just a smidgen too late. Estrid bit her lip hesitantly. She wondered if it was possible to view the picture frame-by-frame. Rewind.

["Yeahhhh, Baby! That's it, Toothless! Pus-pu-! -Toothless! Pu-"]

Damn it. She wasn't sure if it was just her, but Estrid kept trying to catch it… and she missed it every time. It seemed to exist outside of the timeline of the movie, timestamp going a bit wonky whenever she jumped over it. It changed from second to second a few times, which. Annoying.

["Well, That's not bread!" The prisoner to his right faced towards him, hands clamped to the bars of his cell, the horns on his helmet making short clanking noises as they made contact with hard metal, "Why does he always get special treatment?" ]

Too far back. She went further. The voices of the VAs grew high pitched as she skipped through, increasing the speed from x1.5 speed to x2 to x4 and jamming the fast-forward button impatiently. Am I going to have to pull out my computer for this?

["Ok, bud, let's try the new move," Hiccup exclaimed, gently patting Toothless on the head with one hand as his other gripped his saddle's handle.

Toothless shook his head like a dog and warbled back his understanding.]

Without prompting, the TV glitched, fast-forwarding the scene further and missing the mystery clip completely. Estrid groaned. That was what she got for spamming buttons. Could televisions get viruses?

Probably not, she guessed.

"Uh, hey, Toothless!" Hiccup fell straight down, headfirst. Toothless fell down next to him, wings slightly opened in order to catch the winds as they whistled past and to slow his fall, so that he could stay neck and neck with Hiccup.

"Hey," Hiccup deadpanned.

Toothless warbled back at him. Hello to you, too.

"So, just plummet, or any ideas?"

Estrid wondered if any of her neighbors could hear what was going on, and if they were just as freaked out as she was.

She tried to rewind again. Estrid pressed the back button over and over, frustrated.

She stood up straight, then tried pressing both the back and fast-forward buttons at the same time. She had one hand on each button, pressing them on and off like some extra irritating game of Pong.

She was hoping it would allow her to narrow in on and scrub past the mystery footage smoothly. It worked. She wasn't sure televisions were supposed to be able to work that way, but it did. She squinted.

What she saw was a series of black and white frames, interspersed, mixed with sections of pixels that would flash back and forth from a scene of real footage.

The pixels didn't seem to follow a consistent pattern, and infected large sections of her screen randomly. Sometimes a clip from the Dragon Eye of the Beholder would play, always backwards at a speed that almost made it unrecognizable.

At times, she was able to make out some sort of… concrete room? Her DVD player started smoking, whirring wildly as it overextended itself to compensate for the speed its disc was being run.

She jerked up to run, but sat down almost immediately after. There was a pulling in her gut that kept her glued to her seat. And it felt kind of ridiculous to just run away. It was just a DVD. Sure, the files were a bit jacked but it was a DVD all the same. It was only her here, after all.

She saw gray walls covered by long, vicious scratches. Rough gouges were scattered along some of the sides she could see.

Her screen cut off the image for a second, exploding into an array of multicolored pixels, before cutting back to black and white. The TV scrubbed forwards and then backwards again suddenly, wildly flipping through frames.

She pressed on the buttons of her controller fruitlessly, trying to regain control.

Estrid couldn't think, all too focused on the staticy audio of the TV and the screen as it flashed.

One corner of the room was heavily blackened, as if someone had taken a blowtorch to it during some wild psychotic episode. There were piles of filthy hay on the floor.

For a split second, she saw the face of a boy with his eyes wide, about her age. His cheeks were smudged with dirt. His eyebrows were pulled up high, confusion clearly written in on the lines of his face.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Estrid was completely stiff. Was this some kind of human trafficking thing? She felt like her hands were glued to her controller. She held out the remote like a weapon and stood crouched on the cushions of the couch.

One hand went to support herself, and to act as a brace in case she needed to jump for cover. She eyed the front door, thinking vaguely of The Ring.

The TV had gone completely white. Estrid edged back further, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up straight.

Smoke from the DVD player covered the ceiling, and yet somehow the smoke alarm hadn't gone off. If worst went to worst she'd have to pull the one in the hall. This was not how I'd wanted to spend my Tuesday.

She let out a short yell as small arcs of electricity jumped off the screen, stumbling backwards and falling off the back of the couch with a thump. The momentum of her fall caused the couch to tip back slightly before she dropped. It was able to right itself after.

She lay curled up on the hard wooden floor for a moment and listened to the TV as it crackled. She had to get out of here. Or shut off the TV, or SOMETHING.

The tips of Estrid's fingers curled over the back of the couch and she slowly peeked over. My parents are going to kill me.

The lightning -it was too strong to be called anything else now- was moving towards the center of the face of the TV. It hurt her eyes, but she found she couldn't look away.

Something was coming through the light. What the hell.

Was she imagining things? Or maybe she was hallucinating because she spent a little too long staring, like how, as a little kid, she'd stared too long at the sun and saw spots.

She squeaked as a set of fingertips poked out of her TV screen. She moved backwards until her back hit the kitchen counter. A hand, grasping at air, pulled itself out of the light and into her living room. The rest of its arm followed soon after.

She watched, horrified, as it reached around to feel the hard plastic, tapping at the surface surrounding it. A small arc of lightning reached out to sting its fingertips.

The arm recoiled and stood out straight, straining back towards the screen before lurching forward suddenly.

Estrid sprung up as a body came tumbling out of the Television, leaving a trail of lightning in its wake.

She screeched as it slammed into her coffee table and tumbled onto the floor in front of the couch.

The TV shut off.

Estrid stood, shaking. Everything but the DVD play was completely silent, as it kept running aimlessly.

What just happened?

Whoever was now slumped across the middle of her living room lay completely still.

Are… are they dead?

Against her better judgment, she crept around the side of the sofa, clutching the remote to her chest.

With her view now unobscured, she observed a shaggy head of brown hair, face-down on the floor. Broad shoulders. He was kind of smelly. A boy? Was he… that boy?

Estrid made sure to stay halfway behind a couch armrest, hoping it would be enough of an obstacle, good to give her some time to run if she got attacked.

"He-hey-Hello?" She grimaced. It felt silly. This weird wizard-guy looked thoroughly unconscious, so she was basically talking to an empty room. "Are you, uh, awake?"

Estrid inched closer to the side of the couch. "...Alive?" She waited for a few moments with no response. Carefully, she lifted up her right leg and pulled off a fluffy pink slipper.

She stared at the body indecisively and tossed it weakly onto his back. He probably didn't even feel that.

She slipped her other slipper off and held it up into the air, closed her eyes and pulled her arm back. If this doesn't wake him up then I'm not sure what will.

The slipper nailed the guy hard on the head. She heard a loud smack and then a thump as it ricochet onto the floor. Estrid opened one eye, waiting. Should I try the remote?

There was a muffled groan from the floor. She scrambled backwards. Jesus, I should have just called the cops.