Midnight Call from the Unknown

The clock on the wall struck 12:00 AM.

A heavy silence filled the room. The kind of silence that doesn’t feel empty—but watched. Outside, the wind whispered through the narrow streets, brushing against the windows like unseen fingers.

Ahmad sat alone in his small apartment, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. He had just returned from a long day, exhausted but unable to sleep. Something felt… off tonight.

Then suddenly—

📞 His phone rang.

He frowned.

No one ever called him this late.

He picked up the phone slowly. The screen displayed two words that made his chest tighten:

Unknown Caller.

For a moment, he hesitated.

Ignore it, his mind whispered.

But curiosity is a dangerous thing.

He answered.

“Hello?” Ahmad said cautiously.

Silence.

Not normal silence. This was different. It felt… alive.

Then a voice came through.

Low. Distorted. Almost mechanical.

“Ahmad…”

His heart skipped.

“How do you know my name?” he asked, his voice trembling.

The voice didn’t answer immediately. Instead, there was a faint sound… like breathing. Slow. Heavy. Too close to the microphone.

“I see you,” the voice finally said.

Ahmad froze.

A cold chill ran down his spine. He quickly turned around, scanning the room.

Nothing.

The door was locked. The windows were shut.

“You’re… you’re joking, right?” Ahmad forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to himself.

The voice chuckled softly.

“No.”

The call ended.

Ahmad stared at his phone, his reflection faintly visible on the dark screen. His heart was racing now.

It’s just a prank, he told himself. Someone messing with you.

But something didn’t feel right.

He stood up and checked the apartment again. Every corner. Every shadow. Everything was exactly where it should be.

Still… that voice.

He shook his head and sat back down.

Then—

📞 The phone rang again.

Same words.

Unknown Caller.

This time, his hands trembled as he answered.

“What do you want?” Ahmad snapped, trying to sound brave.

The voice returned, calmer now.

“Why didn’t you check behind you?”

Ahmad’s blood ran cold.

Slowly… painfully slowly… he turned his head.

There was nothing there.

But for a split second—

He thought he saw something move.

A shadow.

Too quick to understand.

“I’m not playing your game,” Ahmad said, his voice barely steady.

“You already are,” the voice replied.

Click.

The call ended again.

Ahmad’s breathing grew heavy. His chest felt tight.

He grabbed his keys.

I need to get out of here.

But as he moved toward the door—

📞 The phone rang a third time.

He stopped.

This time, the screen was different.

It showed a photo.

Ahmad’s heart nearly stopped.

It was him.

Standing in his room.

Taken from behind.

Just seconds ago.

The phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor.

“No… no, no, no…” he whispered.

The phone kept ringing.

Shaking, he picked it up again and answered.

“Please… who are you?” he begged.

The voice sounded closer now. Clearer.

“Turn around.”

Ahmad didn’t want to.

Every instinct screamed at him not to.

But something stronger… something darker… forced him to move.

He turned.

And this time—

He saw it.

A figure.

Standing in the corner of the room.

Tall. Still. Watching.

Its face… was wrong.

Like it didn’t fully exist.

Ahmad couldn’t breathe.

The voice on the phone spoke again.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

The figure didn’t move.

But its head tilted slightly.

As if studying him.

“Why… why me?” Ahmad whispered.

A pause.

Then—

“Because you answered.”

The lights flickered violently.

The room plunged into darkness.

Ahmad screamed, dropping the phone again.

When the lights came back on—

The figure was gone.

The room was empty.

Silent.

Like nothing had ever happened.

Ahmad collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

His phone lay beside him.

Dead.

No calls.

No photos.

No proof.

Days passed.

Ahmad tried to forget.

He told himself it was stress. Hallucination. Anything but real.

But deep inside…

He knew.

One week later.

Midnight.

The clock struck 12:00 AM again.

Ahmad sat in the dark.

Waiting.

The phone rested in front of him.

Silent.

For a moment… he thought it was over.

Then—

📞 The phone lit up.

This time, it didn’t say “Unknown Caller.”

It showed something worse.

“Incoming Call… Ahmad.”

His own name… calling him.

The phone vibrated slowly.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Ahmad stared at it, frozen.

The room felt smaller now.

Colder.

Like something was already inside.

Watching.

Waiting.

The phone kept ringing.

And somewhere, deep in the silence—

A voice whispered.

“Answer me…”

THE END.