Chris could feel the cold fingers scraping at his ankle — the nails, broken and sharp, catching on his skin. The wall wasn't just cracked anymore. It was breathing. A slow, sick pulse, like a second heartbeat behind the plaster.
The phone in his hand buzzed one last time. The screen flickered and died. But the hum — that cursed hum — kept vibrating in his palm, as if the phone was alive. Or worse… awake.
He had one chance. Smash the phone and end it — or tear the wall open and face whatever waited inside.
HELP ME OR TAKE MY PLACE.
The words burned behind his eyes. Jide's voice rasped through the crack: "Chris… you owe me…"
Chris let out a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, Jide. I'm so sorry…"
The thing behind the wall laughed — wet, choking. "Then open it."
He looked down at the phone. If he smashed it, would the ghost vanish — or would Jide drag him through anyway? His vision blurred with tears. His foot shifted closer to the wall. The fingers at his ankle tightened, cold as ice.
With a cry, Chris dropped the phone and lunged for the crack instead. His hands scraped at the crumbling plaster, ripping away chunks of concrete with ragged fingernails. He tore at it like an animal, coughing on the dust, ignoring the way his skin split and bled.
The thing behind the wall moaned — a sound like wind in a grave. The crack yawned open wider, wide enough for him to see the thing crawling closer: a face, twisted and bloated, half skull, half rotten grin. Jide's eyes gleamed with a milky shine.
"You left me to die," the ghost hissed. "So come. Come inside."
Chris tried to pull back — but cold hands wrapped around his wrist and dragged him forward. His knees hit the floor. The wall pulsed around his shoulders, swallowing him inch by inch.
"No! No! Jide, please!" he screamed. But his voice echoed inside the cavity of the wall like a whisper in a coffin.
He felt something wet brush his cheek — Jide's rotting breath. Fingers tangled in his hair, yanking his head forward. His face pressed into the crack, cold stone scraping his skin.
"Stay with me," Jide whispered. "We can be together. Forever."
Chris's scream was swallowed by the darkness inside the wall.
Then — silence.
The phone on the floor flickered back to life. The cracked screen glowed. A new message appeared.
"ONE OUT. ONE IN."
If someone had been there to see, they would've watched the wall shudder once… then go still. The room looked normal again. Except for the phone, humming quietly on the cold floor.
Its cracked camera flicked on by itself — and deep inside the lens, if anyone looked close enough, they'd see a wide, screaming eye pressed behind the glass.
Chris was still there. But the ghost phone had him now.