Midnight Calls from a Deceased Friend
A man starts receiving eerie phone calls every midnight from someone claiming to be his deceased friend. At first, he thinks it's a cruel prank—until the voice starts revealing things only his friend would know. As the calls continue, the messages grow more disturbing, leading him to question reality. Is it a ghost, a hacker, or something far worse? Watch as the mystery unfolds in this chilling tale.
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It started with a simple ring at midnight.
Half-asleep, I answered, expecting a wrong number.
But the voice on the other end froze me in place.
"Hey, it's me," it said.
It was my best friend, Daniel.
The problem?
Daniel had been dead for six months.
I stammered, asking who was playing this sick joke.
The voice chuckled.
"You don’t believe me?
I can prove it." Then, it whispered something only Daniel could have known.
My hands trembled as I gripped the phone.
"How do you know that?" I whispered.
The voice sighed.
"Because it’s me, man.
I need your help." My heart pounded.
This had to be a prank, but the details were too personal.
"Meet me where we last saw each other," the voice urged.
That was impossible—our last meeting was at his funeral.
The call ended abruptly, leaving me staring at my phone, pulse racing.
The next night, the call came again.
"Did you come?" the voice asked.
I hesitated.
"Daniel, this isn’t funny.
You’re dead." Silence.
Then, a low chuckle.
"I know.
But I’m not supposed to be." A chill ran down my spine.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
The voice grew urgent.
"I need you to remember what happened that night.
You were there.
You saw it." My breath caught.
I had tried to forget that night.
Memories I had buried clawed their way back.
The accident.
The rain.
The headlights.
I had been there when Daniel died.
But I had told everyone I didn’t remember.
"You lied," the voice accused.
"You left me there." My stomach twisted.
"No, I—" The voice interrupted.
"Come to the bridge.
Midnight.
Alone." The call ended.
I stared at my reflection in the dark window, realizing I couldn’t run from the truth anymore.
Midnight arrived, and I stood at the bridge, heart pounding.
My phone rang.
"You came," the voice said.
The air grew heavy.
"What do you want?" I whispered.
"The truth," it replied.
Suddenly, the streetlights flickered, and a shadow moved near the railing.
"You left me," the voice accused.
"Now it’s your turn." A force yanked me forward.
My scream was swallowed by the night.
The phone hit the ground.
The call was still connected.
