Mira's bare feet slapped the wet pavement as she stumbled across the street. Her breath came in ragged gasps, mixing with the misty night air. She didn't even feel the cold anymore — her eyes were locked on the old payphone under the flickering streetlamp.
It shouldn't be working — nothing about it made sense. The cracked plastic casing, the rusted coin slot, the dangling receiver swinging like a pendulum in the dark. But here it was, lit up and humming like it had been waiting just for her.
She stopped a few steps away, the buzzing phone in her pocket vibrating like a heartbeat that wouldn't die. She pulled it out with trembling fingers. The cracked screen flickered alive.
Unknown: "Answer it."
She forced herself to look around. The street was empty, but shadows seemed to shift in the corners of her eyes. She wanted to run, but where? Home was not safe — Daniel would find her. The voice on the phone had told her not to trust him, and now she could still hear his footsteps pounding through the building behind her.
She stepped closer to the payphone. The receiver swung toward her as if pulled by invisible strings. Her fingers hovered above it — but before she could touch it, a low voice cut through the fog behind her.
"Don't."
Mira spun so fast she nearly fell backward. A man stood a few meters away, half-hidden by the shadows of an old bus stop. He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a dark hoodie pulled low over his forehead. The glow from the streetlamp caught the edge of his face — sharp jawline, a faint scar running through one eyebrow.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice raw from running and fear. She took a step back, bumping into the cold metal payphone. The receiver clattered against the side, the sound echoing in the empty street.
The man lifted his hands slowly, like he was trying to calm a wild animal. "I'm not here to hurt you. But if you pick that up, you won't be able to put it down."
"What are you talking about?" Mira snapped. She pressed the old phone in her pocket against her palm, its cold surface grounding her. "Why are you following me?"
"I'm not the one you should be afraid of," he said softly. He stepped under the streetlamp. His eyes — dark, intense — locked on hers. "You shouldn't have answered the first call."
Mira's mouth went dry. She remembered the static, the breathing, the voice whispering secrets in the dark. "You know about the calls?"
He nodded once. "I know about them. I know what the phone really is. And I know who's using it to find you."
Her pulse thudded in her ears. "Who? Who's trying to find me? Daniel?"
A flicker of something — regret? — crossed his face. "Daniel is just one of them. He's a pawn. The phone…it's how they choose you."
Before Mira could ask what that meant, the old phone in her pocket buzzed violently. She fumbled it out — a new message glowed on the cracked screen:
Unknown: "Pick up the payphone."
She stared at it. Then at the man. He shook his head urgently. "If you answer, they'll know exactly where you are. They'll lock onto you. You'll never run far enough."
She swallowed hard. "Then why are you here? What do you want?"
His eyes softened, just for a moment. "To help you. If you let me."
She almost laughed — the sound came out like a dry cough. "Why should I trust you? I don't even know your name."
He hesitated. The shadows of the empty street seemed to press closer, like they were listening. Finally, he said, "Call me Ash."
"Ash," she repeated, the name tasting strange on her tongue. She took a step sideways, inching toward the payphone. "So what now? I just run? Hide forever?"
Ash's eyes darted past her, down the street. "We don't have forever. Look."
Mira turned. At the end of the block, a figure emerged under a streetlight — Daniel. He was walking slowly, calmly, like a predator who knew his prey had nowhere left to run. And behind him, shapes moved in the darkness — two, three, maybe more. Faces she didn't know. But somehow, they felt wrong. Empty.
"Come with me," Ash said sharply. He grabbed her wrist — his touch was warm, grounding her to reality. "Now."
She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. "Let go—"
"Shh." He pulled her closer, lowering his face so close she could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the scar that split his brow. "If you run alone, they'll catch you. If you answer that call, they'll find you. But if you come with me, you might live."
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The payphone behind her buzzed — the receiver swung violently, slamming against the side like something inside was trying to break free. The screen on her old phone flickered again:
Unknown: "Mira, answer me."
Daniel's voice floated down the street, sickly sweet. "Mira…where are you going? Come back. You know I hate chasing you."
Ash's grip tightened. "Your choice," he murmured. "Trust me — or trust them."
Mira's heart slammed in her chest. The shadows at the end of the street seemed to ripple, moving closer. Daniel's smile glowed under the streetlamp like a mask.
She looked at the payphone. At Ash. At the figures coming for her.
Run.
She didn't think. She didn't speak. She just let Ash pull her away from the payphone, away from the flickering streetlamp, away from the voice that kept whispering through the static.
They ran together into the dark city streets, footsteps echoing on wet asphalt, the old phone buzzing in her pocket like a heartbeat she couldn't silence.