Short Horror Stories

Entry 2: A Phone Call

My name is Carol and I was told I was to write my experience on this site. I am 76 and live alone, I have one son that comes to visit me when he's around. He's such a lovely boy, but to explain I have this... problem with my telephone. You see I wave an older phone, one with the spinning dial. It works perfectly fine and I maintain it quite well. But a month ago, on a Saturday something strange happened. And I've felt uneasy since.

I was doing my dishes when the phone rang, I had no suspensions since I thought I was just going to pick it up and hear Susan from church brag about how good her snicker doodles are again. So with a sigh I picked up the cold handle, the cord resisting a small amount from the pull, and pressed the receiver against my ear. I listened for a while, hearing nothing on the other end.

"Hello?" My shaky, old voice seemed to echo in the unending silence. It was almost eerie how quiet it was, the only sound was my breath. I held the phone for a few more seconds and no longer. With a shrug I placed the phone back, and continued with the dishes. It was a whole week before I received another strange call like the one before. I was again in my kitchen, preparing the lunch I was about to have with my only son. Then the telephone rang. I walked with the hobble that came over time, assuming it was my son calling to tell me he'd be there soon. I reached the phone and reached for the handle once more. I picked it up with a cheery smile and answered with my aged voice, yet all of that was washed away.

The only reply I received was a shaking shuddering breath. Then silence. Then the same scared, pained breath again. I stood confused, wondering if I was actually hearing what I thought I was. I repeated my first word again, but with clear concern for the voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

The line went dead.
I put the phone down slowly, and carefully put it back on its stand. I stared for a moment, unsure of what to think. It wasn't for long, as my doorbell had rung, signifying that my son had arrived. I went out of the room in a shuffling hurry, just wanting to forget what had happened. And forget I did, until last night.

I had just laid my head to rest on my soft feather pillow, placing my glasses on my nightstand I jumped slightly when I heard my phone ring. I briefly remembered the other... incidents I had, but quickly brushed it off as coincidence.

Until I picked up the phone.
"Hello?" My tired voice was immediately cut of my groaning, whimpering, and cries of pain and indescribable agony. I slammed the receiver back onto its stand not wanting to hear more. But it kept ringing, and ringing, and it would stop.

Fed up with this and tears falling down my wrinkled cheeks from the frustration of being tormented by this caller, and in my anger I threw the phone to the floor.

And it stopped.

Sweet blissful silence, I sighed in relief... until....

"Hello?" It was not my voice. It came from the phone. "Hello?" It came again. It was a young man's voice, weak and terrified. I said nothing, I did not believe it. I was hearing things, I told myself. If I didn't answer it would go away.

But it didn't.

No, the voice became louder and louder until it was like the sound of nails on a chalkboard, so very loud and high pitch that it hurt my ears. And after that I can't remember, I had woken up to my son shaking me. He told me that he had found me lying on the ground, and asked me why. He wouldn't have believed me if I told him the truth, so I said I had fainted. I looked down, and the phone was still intact... but it was not the same.

My name is Carol and I am 76 years old and I no longer live alone. If anyone has any information who I should contact, please. Tell me.