THE CALL FROM TOMORROW

At exactly 11:42 p.m., Noah's phone rang.

He stared at the screen.

Incoming Call: Noah

His own name.

Confused, he answered.

“Hello?”

For three seconds, there was only silence.

Then he heard his own voice.

“Listen carefully. You have exactly ten minutes.”

Noah froze.

The voice continued.

“Do not open your bedroom door.”

“What are you talking about?”

A loud knock came from the hallway.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Noah stopped breathing.

His mother was downstairs.

His little brother was asleep in the room next to his.

Nobody should have been outside his bedroom.

His phone crackled.

“Whatever happens, don't open it.”

Noah whispered, “Who are you?”

The voice answered:

“I’m you.”

Another knock.

This time, harder.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Noah?”

It was his mother's voice.

“Open the door, honey.”

Noah stood up.

Then the phone whispered:

“That isn't Mom.”

His blood turned cold.

He slowly stepped away from the door.

“Mom?” he called.

“Yes, sweetheart. Open the door.”

Noah reached for the handle.

His phone suddenly displayed a new message.

10 MINUTES REMAINING.

Then another.

9 MINUTES.

He looked through the keyhole.

His mother's face was standing directly outside.

But something was wrong.

She was smiling.

Not normally.

Her smile was far too wide.

Noah stumbled backward.

The thing outside tilted its head.

Then it whispered through the door:

“I know you're looking at me.”

Noah's phone rang again.

He answered immediately.

His own voice was crying.

“You have to get to the basement.”

“Why?”

“Because that's where I hid.”

Noah's eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”

“I survived last night.”

Silence.

“Last night?”

The voice whispered:

“Tonight hasn't happened yet.”

Suddenly, the bedroom lights went out.

The door handle began turning.

Slowly.

Noah ran toward the window.

Behind him, the door opened.

He didn't look back.

He climbed out and dropped onto the grass.

Then he heard his phone ringing again.

He answered while running.

His own voice said:

“Good. You're outside.”

Noah looked toward the house.

Every window was dark.

Except his bedroom.

A figure was standing behind the glass.

It looked exactly like him.

The voice on the phone whispered:

“Now run.”

Noah stared at the figure.

Then it raised one hand.

And waved.

His phone showed 11:42 p.m.

The exact same time as before.

Noah slowly looked at the sky.

The stars had disappeared.

And somewhere behind him, a phone began to ring.

Incoming Call: Noah.