On June 17, 2011, the YouTube channel alantutorial was created. Alan shared with his subscribers child-like tutorials on how to make things that were excessively easy, pointless, and always ended up veering towards the absurd. In one video, his voice filled with innocence even explained how to... watch a video on YouTube. Initially, viewers were amused. Until they realized that little Alan was, in reality, an adult with a mental disorder. In some tutorials, you could hear family members talking in the next room, while Alan was plunged into deep silence. He was scared. He seemed completely neglected by those around him, sometimes injuring himself to the point of bleeding in his attempts to make bizarre objects. Subscribers began to take an interest in Alan's life, completely abandoned by his loved ones due to his disability.

The tutorial "How to Pick up a Blue Chair Off the Ground" changed everything. In this video, Alan whimpered, cried out in distress, all while trying to lift that famous blue chair. Despite all his desperate efforts, he never succeeded. In the comments, viewers began to seriously worry. Alan was in full emotional shock and seemed to be reenacting a traumatic memory. Theories abounded. What if Alan had witnessed a violent argument between his parents? He mentioned his father and brother but never his mother. What if that blue chair represented the lifeless body of his mother that he had tried to lift over and over again?

No response. The blue chair continued to appear in the background of some tutorials, always on the ground, never lifted. In another video, someone was banging on Alan's door for a long time and brutally. With an anguished and broken voice, he begged the person to leave him alone. Tutorial after tutorial, subscribers delved into Alan's life, gathering sinister and chilling clues about the hell he was living at home. The viewers bonded together to try to understand his past, and were transported into an increasingly dark mystery, with a tragically unfortunate resolution. Fascinating.

Except it was all fake. Alantutorial is one of the most well-known ARGs on the Internet.

Ethan had spent weeks consuming these kinds of enigmatic artistic projects. And he was about to film his own Alternate Reality Game, deep in Yosemite Park.

Ethan finally got off the bus, put on his raincoat, and pulled his hood down to his eyes. His legs started to wobble, small sparks momentarily filled his vision. He was starving. To motivate himself, Ethan had forbidden himself any food until he reached a million subscribers.

His 4K camera, stabilizer, and microphone were left behind in New York. Ethan isolated himself in the forest and took out his very first camera from 2010. Without wasting a second, he began filming the pine needles soaked on the ground. His video could begin. He burst into tears.

"I'm sorry," he managed to articulate. "I don't know what else to do."

He pointed the lens at his haggard face and shot a shaky close-up.

"Do you remember? I explained on Twitter that I planned to shoot a video in Yosemite Park. I had posted an ad to recruit a cameraman familiar with the area. I was so stupid."

The rain intensified. Ethan trudged through the mud and ventured deeper into the forest.

"The guy who approached me in private message seemed nice and professional. He sent me videos he had worked on, and I trusted him. We had an appointment this morning at the Yosemite Valley Welcome Center."

Ethan stopped to catch his breath and try to control his sobs. He was exhausted, completely lost, and in shock.

"I don't have a power bank, no equipment, nothing. He was supposed to bring everything. I'm drained, I don't even know why I'm filming."

He slid down against a tree trunk and captured in a fixed shot the vastness of this isolated forest, which was getting darker inexorably.

"When I arrived at the Welcome Center, the cameraman warmly welcomed me, I was very reassured even though he seemed quite frail. He had a genuine smile, piercing blue eyes, and was easily six feet tall. I explained to him that I wanted to start my vlog by filming the exceptional view offered by Glacier Point. I blindly followed this stranger."

Ethan remembered his hiking pants had a tiny compass. He nervously fumbled his clothes and finally grabbed his mini survival compass.

"If this guy, Thomas, was really taking me to the glacier, then I need to head North to retrace my steps. Damn... The night is starting to fall."

He set off again while obsessively watching the compass needle. His wet clothes chilled him to the bone.

"At first, everything was going perfectly well. Thomas guided me through the park while taking shots with his drone for my vlog. I was overexcited, only thinking about the quality of my video and imagining your reactions, your compliments, envisioning the number of views. I was blinded and only half-listened to Thomas's monologues. In fact, as we walked, this guy was listing all the tragedies that had occurred in Yosemite. The tragic death of Dean Potter, the world-famous Base-Jump enthusiast, a deadly rockslide near El Capitan, or the death of a family and their dog in Devil’s Gulch. At the moment, I just thought I had the audience I deserved. With all my horror content, normal that I attract crazies."

Darkness became total. Ethan started to shiver, realizing that if he fell asleep in this forest, he would likely never wake up. He took out a small flashlight from his backpack that could be recharged with a crank. Ethan grabbed it and turned the crank as fast as possible to manage to project some light. A silvery beam then emerged from the device and dimly illuminated the menacing tree trunks.

"I started to freak out when Thomas took me deep into a forest. I could no longer see any signs, and we didn't cross any more hikers. When I wanted to take my phone, Thomas snatched it from my hands, laughing. Then he asked me what it would feel like to join the list of Yosemite's dead. When I saw his predatory smile, my instinct took over. I felt I was in mortal danger, he was the predator and I was the prey. I often receive emails from lunatics sharing their morbid fantasies. No doubt. I was facing one of them. I started running as fast as I could to stay alive. I could hear him screaming 'come back!!'"

The light went out. Ethan cranked the flashlight like a madman, unable to control his tremors. But the flashlight had given up. The camera probably wasn't filming much anymore. If a bear came upon him, he stood no chance of survival. Ethan tried to speak, but it was impossible to formulate a coherent sentence. He continued to walk in silence, like a condemned man. The compass needle was no longer visible.

"I should have stayed with Thomas," he whispered. "I dug my own grave. Maybe I did it on purpose."

Suddenly, lights appeared in the distance, filtered through the foliage of the trees. Ethan stopped his narrative, let out a cry of relief, and started running. He struggled to break free from the grasp of the forest, the branches clinging to him as if to prevent his escape. His feet found the hard surface of the road. In front of him stood the majestic The Ahwahnee hotel. Its imposing architecture, stone and wood facade, and dimmed lamps took his breath away.

"I can't believe it," he gasped.

Tears flowed down his cheeks. He dragged himself along a large red carpet protected by a massive wooden structure. The lanterns swung in the wind. This excessive luxury contrasted with the misery he had been in just seconds before. Ethan entered the mythical entrance hall of The Shining. His wet hiking shoes slipped on the shiny tiled patterns, his camera filmed the thick white columns, the bay windows and their red curtains, the armchairs, and the sumptuous chandeliers.

But suddenly, his heart stopped. Thomas was waiting for him in front of the Front Desk of the hotel. He too was soaked and worried sick. The receptionist was about to call the Yosemite Park rescuers.

"It's him!" exclaimed Thomas, rushing towards Ethan. "But you're completely mad! What got into you to run off into the middle of the forest? Do you realize I would have been responsible if something had happened to you?"

Ethan was dumbfounded. His anxious gaze alternated between the receptionist and the cameraman. He was unable to utter a word.

"Do you want me to call a doctor?" inquired the receptionist. "He's pale and shaking all over."

"No, it'll be okay. I'll take care of him. He's a content creator who wanted to film the park, but I think he had a panic attack. These guys are always seeking adrenaline, but we mustn't forget that they are initially antisocial little geeks. They let anxiety consume them at the slightest inconvenience."

Thomas firmly grasped Ethan's arm and guided him along the hotel corridor. They passed the Ahwahnee Bar, where the fictional character Jack Torrance savored his imaginary whisky before taking an ax to massacre his family. The alcohol bottles were bathed in light and reflected on the perfectly polished bar.

"Don't you care about your life? Are you ready to do anything to film trash content?"

They arrived in front of the two red elevators, the ones that cruelly poured liters of blood in The Shining. Ethan's camera was focused on Thomas's expressionless face.

"Sorry. I don't understand what's happening to me. I just want to sleep."

"Everything will be alright, Ethan. You're in shock, it's understandable. But you won't feel a thing, it'll be very quick. Get in this elevator."

The doors opened, and Thomas pushed him into this narrow, purple cage.

"When you talked about your video project, I seized my chance, Ethan. I know your channel, we share the same interests. Do you know how easy it is to hack a YouTube account? If you think your details are inaccessible, you're mistaken. If you hadn't joined me in Yosemite, I would have crossed the United States to find you."

The cameraman pulled out a gleaming blade. He was as scared as Ethan.

"Do you think you can continue to make money by exploiting our morbid curiosity and discomfort? You scour the Internet for pure violence and then throw it back in our faces. That's your job? Our brain records every image, Ethan. It never forgets."

Thomas thrust the blade sharply into Ethan's belly. The knife came out covered in blood.

"You're going first, but we'll all join you."

Thomas brought the weapon to his neck, and the camera fell to the ground, along with Ethan's lifeless body.

A deathly silence filled the elevator.

Then Thomas grabbed the camera and stopped the recording. The doors opened on the third floor.

"It's in the can, Ethan. Great job."

"Damn, I got fake blood on the elevator carpet. They're gonna charge me for that, for sure!"

The duo let out a deep sigh and entered the hotel room Ethan had reserved. His suitcase, which he had sent ahead, was waiting next to the desk. He quickly turned on his computer and downloaded all the video files recorded on his camera.

"I absolutely need to remove the sound of the cars. When I was pretending to be lost in the forest, I could hear them driving on the road right next to me. I also need to cut the part where I confirm my reservation with the hotel receptionist. Otherwise, it's all good. I think I've just made the video of my life. I'll transfer the money to you tonight."

"Did I do well? I don't have much acting experience..."

"And that's why I chose you. No viewer must recognize you. You were perfect."

Ethan spent several hours checking if his video was convincing. Thanks to the low quality of the image, the export of the final cut took only a few minutes. The content creator took a deep breath and published his video "You'll All Join Me."

He turned off his computer, left his room, and walked around the huge reception hall of the hotel. He recognized the parquet and carpets on which Danny rode his tricycle, the large staircase where Wendy tried to fend off Jack with a baseball bat. He sat in front of the hotel's huge fireplace and his gaze drifted into the void.

"If I screw up with this video, I'm quitting everything. I'll go back to my mom's and let myself die."

Ethan continued to wander for several hours within the hotel. Then he sat at the bar, took a deep breath, and looked at the statistics of his video.

Ethan's channel had reached 1.5 million subscribers. The number was increasing every minute. Comments were pouring in under the video. He was in the Top Trends on Twitter. A green arrow had replaced the red one. Ethan started to cry. He ordered a glass of whisky.