Paula stared at her cellphone, the display glowing faintly within the dim mild of her condominium. It was previous midnight, and the town outdoors her window hummed with distant visitors, a soundtrack to her insomnia. She had simply settled into mattress when the primary name got here. An unknown quantity, no caller ID. She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the decline button. However curiosity tugged at her—perhaps it was a flawed quantity, or maybe her pal from out of city. She answered.
“Hiya?” Her voice was tentative, laced with the exhaustion of a protracted day on the workplace.
Silence at first, then a low, distorted whisper. “You assume you’re secure, Paula. However I see you.”
Her coronary heart skipped. “Who is that this?”
The road crackled, and the voice continued, mechanical, as if filtered by way of some app. “Your blue gown tonight. Fairly. Nevertheless it gained’t defend you from what’s coming.”
Click on. The decision ended.
Paula sat up, her pulse racing. Nasty, she thought, however in all probability a prank. Children as of late with their apps. She tried to sleep, however the phrases echoed: “I see you.” How did they know her title? Her gown? She had worn blue to dinner with colleagues. Coincidence? She tossed and turned, the necessity to know gnawing at her. Who? Why?
The following morning, as she sipped espresso in her kitchen, a textual content pinged from an unrecognised quantity. “Sleep effectively? Goals of me chasing you thru the park. You’ll run, however not far sufficient.”
Her arms trembled. The park—she jogged there each weekend. This wasn’t random. She typed again: “Who’re you? Cease this.”
No reply. She blocked the quantity, however the concern lingered, a chilly knot in her abdomen. At work, she confided in her coworker, Mia. “Most likely some creep from on-line,” Mia mentioned. “Ignore it.”
However Paula couldn’t. That evening, one other name, completely different quantity. She answered, pushed by that insistent pull—what if ignoring made it worse? What in the event that they revealed one thing?
“You blocked me,” the voice hissed, deeper this time, nearly amused. “Good. However I’ve extra numbers. Infinite. And I do know your secrets and techniques, Paula. Like that evening in school. The one you buried.”
Her breath caught. Faculty? The get together the place she’d blacked out, woken up alone, rumors swirling. Nobody knew the main points, not even her closest buddies. “What would you like?” she whispered.
“Your concern. It’s scrumptious.” Laughter, tinny and echoing. Then, “Watch your again. I’m nearer than you assume.”
The decision dropped. Paula paced her lounge, lights on full blast. She ought to name the police, however what would she say? Prank calls? No proof of actual menace and deep down, a morbid curiosity burned. Who knew about school? An ex? A stalker? She wanted solutions.
Days blurred. The calls got here sporadically, at all times from new numbers—burners, she guessed. One afternoon, whereas purchasing, her cellphone buzzed. Textual content: “These apples look ripe. However poison lurks inside. Such as you.”
She spun round, scanning the aisles. Nobody suspicious. She replied: “Present your self, coward.”
No response. Blocked once more. However the eerie precision unnerved her. How did they know she was shopping for apples?
That night, a name at dinner. She answered, fork halfway to her mouth. “Consuming alone once more? Pathetic. I might be a part of you. Break down the door.”
“Depart me alone!” she shouted, however her voice cracked. Frightened, sure, however that want—to know, to know—stored her on the road.
“Inform me,” the voice purred, “do you bear in mind the scar in your knee? From the autumn. I used to be there.”
She touched her knee instinctively. A childhood accident, biking within the suburbs. Nobody talked about it. “How have you learnt that?”
Click on.
The thriller deepened, pulling her in like a riptide. She began researching—apps for spoofing numbers, reverse lookups. Nothing labored. Pals prompt altering her quantity, however she resisted. If she did, how would she ever discover out?
Every week later, midnight once more. New quantity. She answered, coronary heart pounding. “Why me?”
“Since you’re mine, Paula. All the time have been. That locket you put on—your mom’s. I’ll take it once I come for you.”
She clutched the necklace, a household heirloom. Tears welled. Upset, terrified, however she pressed: “Who’re you? Please.”
Laughter. “Phantom. Ghost. Your worst nightmare.”
The threats escalated subtly, woven with private particulars that made it intriguing, nearly seductive in its horror. One message: “Your boss’s e-mail. I might ship these pictures. Smash you.”
Photographs? She had none compromising, however the implication chilled her. She replied: “What pictures? Inform me.”
Silence.
One other name, 3 AM. She jolted awake, grabbing the cellphone. “You sleep with the sunshine on now. Frightened of shadows? Good. They’re my buddies.”
“Inform me your title,” she begged, voice hoarse.
“Names are for the dwelling.” Click on.
The sample repeated, eerie in its unpredictability. Completely different numbers every time—some worldwide, some native, one even mimicking her personal space code completely. She collected them in a pocket book, a detective in her personal nightmare. The messages have been quick, nasty: “Die slowly.” “I’m watching.” “Your finish is close to.”
But she answered each time. The concern was actual—locks checked twice, curtains drawn—however the intrigue overpowered it. What if this was related to her previous? Her estranged father? A jilted lover? The thriller was a puzzle, and he or she craved the items.
One wet night, as thunder rumbled, a textual content: “Moist outdoors. Like your tears. Cry for me.”
She was crying, alone on her sofa. How? Was there a digital camera? She searched her condominium, discovered nothing. Replied: “The place are you?”
No reply.
Then a name, new quantity. “Beneath your mattress,” the voice teased.
She laughed nervously, checking anyway. Empty. “Liar.”
“Am I? Verify your closet.”
She froze. The closet door was ajar. She approached slowly, cellphone clutched like a weapon. Pulled it open—garments, sneakers. Nothing.
“See? Enjoying video games.” However her voice shook.
“I’ll win,” the voice mentioned. “Quickly.”
The intrigue constructed layers. Hints dropped like breadcrumbs: “Keep in mind the lake home?” Her household’s previous vacation spot, deserted years in the past. “I waited there.”
For what? She drove there one weekend, compelled. The place was dilapidated, overgrown. Nobody. However on the porch, a word: “Nearer.”
Her blood ran chilly. How? She hadn’t advised anybody she was going.
Again residence, extra calls. “You discovered it. Good lady. However the sport’s not over.”
Threats turned private: “Your sister’s quantity. I might name her too.”
“Don’t!” Paula screamed into the cellphone. Her sister lived miles away.
“Then beg.”
She did, humiliated, frightened. However nonetheless, she answered the following one, and the following.
Weeks turned to months. The phantom caller turned a fixture, eerie whispers in her life. One evening, a video message from one more quantity: a blurry determine in shadows, holding a knife. “For you.”
She reported it to police lastly, however they dismissed it—spoofed, untraceable. “Change your quantity,” they mentioned.
She did, reluctantly. Peace for per week. Then, a name to her new quantity. “Suppose that stops me? I’ve methods.”
How? Hacked? Inside job? The thriller deepened, intriguing regardless of the fear.
Messages now: “Your new espresso store. Latte with almond milk. Spill it, like your blood.”
She stopped going out. However the necessity to know stored her responding: “Why? What did I do?”
“You forgot me. However I bear in mind.”
Forgot who? Highschool crush? Colleague? The puzzle consumed her.
One name, voice cracking: “I’m drained, Paula. Finish this.”
“How?” she whispered.
“Come to the park. Midnight.”
Tempting. Harmful. She went, coronary heart hammering. Empty benches, fog rolling in. Her cellphone rang—new quantity.
“You’re right here. Good lady.”
“The place are you?”
“Behind you.”
She whirled. Nothing. Laughter on the road.
“Run.”
She did, sprinting residence, locking doorways. However the intrigue— who was this phantom?
Extra cases: A name throughout a gathering, she excused herself to reply. “Whispering secrets and techniques? I’ll shout yours.”
Textual content at a date: “He’s not for you. I’ll be certain that.”
She canceled dates and felt remoted.
The eeriness peaked one stormy evening. Energy out, candlelight flickering. Name: “Darkness fits you. Like loss of life.”
“Inform me who you might be!” she demanded.
A pause. “Your reflection.”
What? Thoughts video games.
Then, a revelation trace: “The accident. You drove away.”
Accident? Years in the past, a hit-and-run she witnessed however didn’t report. Guilt buried.
“You?” she gasped.
“Sufferer’s brother.”
However the sufferer lived. Was it true?
“Meet me. Warehouse on Elm.”
She went, pushed by want.
Inside, a cellphone rang—landline. She answered.
“Bought you.”
Now she would know.