Scary stories I wrote

The Midnight Caller

For the past three nights, Alex had been receiving calls at exactly midnight. The first time, he thought it was a prank-an unknown number, no one on the other end. But on the second night, he heard something strange: his own voice.

"Alex, listen carefully. Tomorrow at 3 p.m., don't take the elevator at work. Use the stairs."

The voice was shaky, almost scared, but unmistakably his. Alex, bewildered and unnerved, ignored it. The next day, at 3 p.m., the building's elevator malfunctioned and crashed. Two people were severely injured. Alex hadn't used the elevator, but it was only a coincidence, right?

Then, the third night, the call came again.

"Alex, don't leave the house tomorrow. No matter what."

His heart pounded in his chest. His own voice, once again, warning him of something. Was this some kind of sick joke? But after the elevator incident, he couldn't dismiss it. The next day, Alex stayed home, terrified but glued to the news. In the afternoon, there was a car pile-up on the very road he would have taken to work. He would have been there. His stomach dropped.

Now, the calls were coming regularly-always at midnight, always his voice, giving him cryptic instructions to avoid some unseen danger. Each warning more terrifying than the last.

But then, one night, something changed.

The call came, as expected, but this time his voice sounded more panicked. "Alex... I can't help you anymore. Tomorrow, it comes for you. You have to figure it out yourself."

The line went dead.

Alex stared at his phone in disbelief. For the first time in days, there was no guidance, no cryptic warning on how to survive the next day. He was on his own. And tomorrow, something was coming for him.

Desperate, Alex started retracing every call, every event he'd been warned about, hoping for a clue. Each warning had saved his life, but from what? And now, whatever it was, it had grown bolder, more certain, and it was coming directly for him.

As midnight approached on the final night, his phone remained silent. No call. But his own reflection in the screen smiled back at him.

Word count, not including this: 365