Horror · 28 chapters · by Royendgel Silberie · in english
“Don't turn around yet.” The text lands at 11:47 PM, and the buzz is the loudest thing your apartment has ever produced. Sender: your own number.…
Chapter 1: 11:47 PM
“Don't turn around yet.” The text lands at 11:47 PM, and the buzz is the loudest thing your apartment has ever produced. Sender: your own number. Attached: a photo of you, on this couch, in this shirt, taken tonight — from somewhere behind you. Your thumb hovers over the reply field. The radiator ticks. And somewhere in the room, very softly, something else buzzes too.
What happens next? I turn around. Nothing sneaks up on me. · I text back: who is this? · I run downstairs and bang on Marcus's door.
Chapter 2: The Closet Was Closed
You turn. Empty couch shadow, empty kitchen alcove, the window a black mirror holding only you. Then you see it: the closet door stands open an inch. You closed it. You always close it. The phone buzzes against your palm like something alive. New text, from your own number: “told you that you'd look. i know you before you do.” The second, softer buzz in the room has stopped.
What happens next? I get Marcus. I shouldn't be alone with this. · I search the apartment myself, room by room. · I photograph the closet and send it: I see you too.
Chapter 3: Typing…
who is this?? you type, and hit send before fear can stop you. The typing bubble appears instantly — no pause, no thinking. The reply is word for word the sentence already forming in your head: “this is a bad joke, right, Dana?” You hadn't said that aloud. You hadn't even finished thinking it. The bubble comes back one more time: “wrong. try again. and thank you for replying.”
What happens next? I stop typing. It wants me talking. · I demand proof: send something only I know. · I call Marcus downstairs — I need a witness.
Chapter 4: The Man Downstairs
You're pounding down one flight of stairs before you decide to. Marcus opens his door mid-knock — paramedic reflexes, still in uniform, radio hissing on his shoulder. “Riley? I heard you running. What happened?” You show him the photo. His face does the thing it must do at bad scenes: goes calm on purpose. In your hand the phone buzzes once. “he can't help you. but bring him. i like him.”
What happens next? I let Marcus take charge and search my place. · I stay in the hallway. I'm not going back in. · I show him everything — every text, no editing.
Chapter 5: Timestamped Tomorrow
“Heard you through the floor,” Marcus says, already sweeping your apartment with flashlight discipline — closet, bathroom, fire-escape latch. Nothing. Nobody. “Windows locked from the inside.” Then both your phones light up at once. A new photo: you and Marcus, right now, taken from the dark hallway behind you. The timestamp reads tomorrow, 11:47 PM. “That's not possible,” Marcus says quietly. The caption types itself out: “see you then.”
What happens next? I call 911 right now. · I call Dana. She'll know I'm not crazy. · I open the closet myself. Now.
Chapter 6: Fourteen Calls
The 911 dispatcher's voice flattens the moment you give your number. “Ma'am. This line has called us fourteen times tonight. Every call is a woman screaming for exactly six seconds, then a dial tone.” You haven't touched the phone since eleven. Marcus takes it from your shaking hand. On the screen, a new message assembles itself, letter by letter: “they'll trace it here. to your couch. where you're sitting.”
What happens next? I hang up. The police can't fight this. · I beg them to send a car anyway. · I hand Marcus the phone and just breathe.
Chapter 7: Forty-Seven Replies
You call Dana. She answers before the first ring finishes, breathless, like she has been waiting a year for this. “You got the texts.” Not a question. “Riley, listen. Whatever it sends, do not reply. Every reply is a door. I counted mine too late—” The line dies. You redial: busy. Your phone buzzes instead. “your sister replied forty-seven times. ask her what she paid.”
What happens next? I redial Dana until she picks up. · I ask it directly: what did Dana pay? · I screenshot everything before it can vanish.
Chapter 8: The Warm Coat
You cross the room and pull the closet wide. Your coats. Your boxes. And on the hook, your gray coat — still warm, smelling of your shampoo, as if lifted off a body one minute ago. On the floor beneath it, a phone you don't own, charging on a cable you don't own. Its lock screen glows with the same photo of you. “Riley,” Marcus says. “Don't touch it.”
What happens next? I grab the strange phone before Marcus stops me. · I back off and let Marcus bag it like evidence. · I throw the coat out the window. Tonight.
