t was 2:13 in the morning when my phone rang — and honestly, that alone was enough to freak me out. No one calls me at that hour. I answered, half-asleep, and all I heard was static… and breathing. Then a voice came through — my own voice — whispering, “Don’t look outside.” And just like that, the call ended. My stomach dropped. I live alone, and in the reflection of my TV screen, I could’ve sworn I saw someone standing behind me.
I tried to shake it off, but curiosity got the better of me. I walked to the window and pulled the curtain just a little. There was someone standing on my lawn — completely still, facing my window. My phone started ringing again. Same number. I picked it up with shaking hands, and my voice — that same voice — said, “You shouldn’t have looked.” The line cut off.
Then my screen lit up one more time — not a call, not a text — a live video feed. From my own phone camera. I looked down at the feed… and the figure outside was gone. But in the video, something was moving — slowly rising from behind my couch.