Whispers of The Unseen

The Call

I watch as Max and Theo back out of the driveway, Theo giving me one last wave before they disappear down the street. They'd tried to convince me to go with them, but I couldn't face being out there today-too many eyes, too many people, and the possibility of running into a familiar mask lurking in the shadows.

So here I am, alone again. The quiet of the house presses in on me, the emptiness like a heavy blanket that's hard to shake off. I double-check the locks on the doors, making sure everything is secure before wandering back to the kitchen.

The boys promised they'd be back soon-an hour, maybe two, tops. They were heading to the supermarket to pick up some extra food and supplies. With the town still in a sort of uneasy lockdown, stores are only open for short windows, and they wanted to make sure we didn't run low on essentials. It's a routine that's become almost normal over the past week, like this is just how life is now.

I busy myself with little tasks-washing a few dishes, tidying up the living room, anything to keep my mind off the gnawing tension that's been building up inside me. But even as I try to distract myself, my thoughts keep circling back to that night, to Jenna, to the look Ghostface gave me before he disappeared into the darkness.

Every creak of the house, every sigh of the wind outside feels like it could be him. I keep telling myself that it's just paranoia, that he wouldn't be so bold as to show up in broad daylight. But the anxiety twists in my chest, refusing to let go.

Then, my phone rings.

I freeze, staring at it where it sits on the kitchen counter, the screen glowing with an unknown number. My mind races, my stomach clenching into a tight knot. I don't recognize the number, but deep down, I already know who it is.

For a second, I think about ignoring it, letting it ring out. But something inside me-curiosity, defiance, something darker-pushes me to pick it up. I press the phone to my ear, forcing my voice to stay steady even though my hands are trembling.

"Hello?"

There's a long silence on the other end, the kind that stretches out until it feels like time itself has stopped. My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, I think maybe it's a prank, a wrong number. But then, the voice comes through the static, low and rasping, like it's being dragged up from the depths.

"Miss me, Aria?"

My blood runs cold, the familiar voice cutting through me like a blade. It's him. Ghostface. I grip the edge of the counter, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "What do you want?"

He chuckles, a sound that makes my skin crawl. "You're all alone again, aren't you? You really shouldn't let your friends leave you behind. It makes you look so... vulnerable."

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. I glance around the room, checking the windows, the back door, but everything is locked up tight. "You don't scare me," I say, but the words feel hollow, like I'm trying to convince myself more than him.

"Is that so?" he replies, his tone mocking. "Then why is your hand shaking, Aria? Why do you keep looking over your shoulder like you expect to see me standing there?"

I clench my jaw, refusing to let him hear the fear in my voice. "You're not going to get to me," I manage. "You're just some coward hiding behind a mask."

There's a pause, and then he laughs again, the sound dark and unsettling. "You think you know me? You think I'm just playing games?" He lets the question hang in the air for a moment, like he's savoring my uncertainty. "This is more than a game, Aria. This is fate. And you know it, don't you?"

I press my free hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing, but my heart is racing out of control. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, but the truth is, a part of me understands. That part of me that felt a twisted thrill when he looked at me in that alley, that part that's been waiting for him to come back.

"Oh, I think you do," he says softly. "You've felt it, haven't you? That rush, that thrill. You can't hide from it, Aria. You can't hide from me."

I close my eyes, trying to block out his voice, but it's like he's inside my head, whispering to the darkest corners of my mind. I open my mouth to tell him to leave me alone, but the words catch in my throat. Because the truth is, I don't know if I want him to stop. The realization makes my stomach twist with guilt and shame.

The silence stretches out between us, thick and heavy. I can hear him breathing on the other end of the line, slow and steady, like he has all the time in the world.

"You're not going to hurt me," I say finally, my voice barely more than a whisper. "If you wanted to, you would have done it already."

He lets out a low hum, as if considering my words. "Maybe you're right. Or maybe I'm just waiting for the perfect moment. After all, anticipation is half the fun, isn't it?"

I shiver, gripping the phone so tightly it digs into my palm. "You're sick."

"Maybe," he admits, a smirk in his voice. "Or maybe, deep down, we're not so different, you and I. Think about that, Aria. Think about it while you're waiting for your friends to come back."

The line goes dead, the click of the call ending echoing in my ears. I stand there for a long moment, staring at the blank screen, my mind reeling. His words keep replaying in my head, twisting around my thoughts until I can't tell where my fear ends and something darker begins.

I throw the phone down on the counter, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. My eyes dart around the room again, searching the shadows, but everything looks the same. Empty. Silent.

But that doesn't mean he's not out there, watching me. Waiting for the next time I let my guard down.

I back away from the windows, pressing my back to the wall. The house suddenly feels too big, too open, like there are a thousand places for him to hide. I clutch the counter knife I grabbed before, wishing for the sound of Max's car pulling into the driveway, for Theo's voice calling my name.

But until then, all I can do is wait. And wonder if he's really closer than I think.