The Last Call

Lena’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a number she didn’t recognize. She had been working late again, trying to finish up a report that her boss had requested last minute.

“Probably a wrong number,” she muttered, reaching for her coffee.

But it buzzed again. And again. Six missed calls in less than five minutes.

She sighed and answered on the seventh ring.

“Hello?”

Static. Then a low, distorted voice. “Lena…”

She stiffened, the sound of her name sharp in the air, almost too familiar. “Who is this?” she demanded.

There was a pause. Then, the voice spoke again, its tone cold and slow. “You don’t know me, but I know you.”

Lena’s stomach turned. She stood up, glancing nervously around her small apartment. She was alone.

“Why are you calling me? Who the hell is this?”

The voice chuckled, a sound that sent chills crawling down her spine. “I’m someone you used to know.”

Lena’s pulse quickened. There was something unnerving about the way the voice lingered on every word, as if it was savoring her fear. She clenched her fist around the phone.

“Who? Who are you?” she asked again, her voice shaking.

The static crackled, filling the silence before the voice answered. “Don’t you remember?”

Her heart skipped. She hadn’t been able to forget—never could forget—but she hadn’t heard that voice in years. It couldn’t be.

“No…” she whispered. “No, it can’t be…”

The voice sighed, almost lovingly. “It’s me, Lena. Remember? You left me.”

Her mind raced. Her hands trembled. She dropped the coffee cup, the sound of it shattering barely registering as she struggled to catch her breath.

“No… you’re—”

The voice cut in, smooth and relentless. “I told you what would happen if you left. You shouldn’t have.”

Lena’s mind spiraled, memories she’d tried to bury flooding back like a tidal wave. The argument. The broken promises. The silence that followed.

Then, that one final night when she couldn’t take it anymore. She had left, and she had never looked back.

The voice continued, growing colder. “You thought you were free, but you never left me.”

The hairs on her neck stood on end. She looked down at her phone, her blood running cold as she saw the caller ID: UNKNOWN CALLER.

But it wasn’t just the call that terrified her—it was the feeling that came with it. Like someone was standing behind her, breathing down her neck.

“Don’t come near me,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I’m not—”

There was a knock at the door.

Lena froze. The voice on the phone went silent for a moment. Then it whispered, breathless: “I’m right outside.”

Her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the floor, the phone slipping from her hand.

Another knock. Louder this time. Then another. And another.

Slowly, she crawled to the door, her breath ragged. Her fingers hovered over the doorknob, trembling.

She had to know. She had to see.

With a shaking hand, she turned the handle.

The door opened.

Empty.

But as she looked down, she saw the phone.

It was still ringing.

And the voice spoke once more, its words barely a whisper.

“Come back.”