In the summer of 1983, a man set out to capture the quiet beauty of his neighborhood with a handheld camcorder. Driving an aging Oldsmobile, he wandered the near-empty streets, unaware that his final recording had already begun.
Without warning, the footage glitches—and reality itself fractures. He falls through the crumbling street into an endless maze of damp carpet, flickering lights, and towering pillars. The static never stops. Neither does the sound of something approaching.
The camera survived. The man did not.
VHS Tape #17 is a wordless descent into fear, captured forever on damaged magnetic tape— evidence of a crossing that should have remained forgotten.