Hating that I even wondered whether she might actually need help, I took a deep breath, bracing myself, and answered. “Hello?”
Static washed through the line, thick and garbled, but I thought I caught my name somewhere inside the white noise.
“Hello?” I tried again. “Vivian? I can’t hear you. We have a bad connection.”
“Listen!” Vivian burst through, her voice shrill with panic. But the rest came through in broken, lurching fragments. “Need— tell— God— found— hear— devil—”
And there it was.
Clearly, she was calling to give me the same sermon as always—well, more a variation on a theme, really. But, had to hand it to her, calling in the middle of the night, definitely added a certain flair. I shook my head, angry that she would pull this shit. Why call me like this now? Why call at all?
“Vivian,” I said loudly, hoping my voice broke through the static, “I can’t understand you. You’re breaking up.”
The noise swallowed whatever she said next, the words unintelligible. Then there was just a flat, persistent hiss.
But I still listened, despite myself, knowing that if it really were an emergency, I’d never forgive myself for hanging up on her—or anyone in such a situation. The line didn’t improve.
After another few seconds, I exhaled hard, exasperated. “Vivian, I’m hanging up.”
I hit the button, tossed the phone aside, then flopped back onto my pillow, turning and shifting positions until finally finding a cool spot on the sheets. I was just dozing off when my phone rang again. I groaned, snatching it up from the bed beside me.
“What do you want, Vivian?”
Only static answered.
Frowning, I checked the screen. No name this time. Just a string of zeros.
“What the hell?” I murmured. My heartbeat jumped. My mouth went dry as dread crept along my skin, and I slowly lifted the phone tomy ear. “Who is this?”
A hellish screech exploded through the speaker, the sound so shrill it seemed to penetrate my skull and pierce my brain. I yelped and threw the phone away, clutching my head with both hands as pain flared behind my eyes.
“Damn it!” I cried, blinking through tears. I glanced around the room, searching for my phone and found it on the floor near the bed.
Shaken by the strange call, I lowered one bare foot until my toes touched the floor. The boards creaked as I put more weight on my foot and then lowered the other. I eased down into a crouch next to the bed and reached slowly for my phone, then froze, my fingers still a few inches from it.
The line was still connected. Static hissed and crackled from the speaker, what sounded like fragments of urgent whispers trying to force their way through.
I stared at it, torn, not sure I wanted to know who was on the other end. But, my curiosity winning, I stretched my fingers toward it.
Without warning, a hand shot out from the darkness under the bed and clamped around my wrist.
I screamed and jerked back, trying to break its hold, but the grip tightened. Fingers mottled gray with decay, nails bloody and jagged, as though they’d clawed their way out of the grave, dug deeper, refusing to let go.
Another scream tore loose from me, and I pulled harder, fighting to get free. A second hand emerged, palm flat on the floor, pushing down on the boards, dragging its body forward. Silver eyes glowed in the darkness, then a wide grin peeled back putrid lips as a half-decomposed face slid into view.
Another ragged, terrified scream ripped from my throat.
My bedroom door slammed open, banging into the wall as Henry rushed in, eyes huge. “Mama!”
My head snapped up, fear for him overriding everything else. I opened my mouth to tell him to run—
But the corpse’s grasp abruptly released me. The thing dissolved into the empty shadows beneath the bed. Gone.
I scrambled backward until I hit the wall. My chest heaved as I gulped in air.
Henry threw himself against me, wrapping his arms around my neck.
“It’s okay, Mama,” he whispered, his little hand stroking my shoulder.
