I woke up late that morning, the kind of late where everything feels slow and quiet. The room was unusually silent, like the air itself was holding its breath. I reached for my phone, still half-asleep, expecting the usual notifications. Instead, I saw something that made me sit up immediately - 27 missed calls. All from the same number. My number. I stared at the screen, thinking it had to be some kind of glitch. Maybe a network issue, maybe a bug. I checked again, carefully this time. But no, every single missed call showed my own contact. Same name. Same number. No variation at all. A strange feeling settled in my chest, something between confusion and fear.

I tapped one of the calls, hoping it would show something different, but it didn’t. Just me calling myself. “Okay… that’s weird,” I muttered. To be sure, I tried calling my number back. My phone started ringing in my own hand. Normal. Nothing unusual. So where were those calls coming from? I tried to ignore it. Told myself it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe just some random technical error. I got up, made coffee, tried to move on with my day. But the thought wouldn’t leave my mind. 27 calls weren’t a mistake. That felt intentional. That felt like someone - or something - was trying to reach me.

Around noon, I noticed something else that made things worse. There were 27 voice messages too. I hadn’t seen them earlier. My stomach tightened as I opened the list. Each message was only a few seconds long. I hesitated, then played the first one. Just static. A low crackling noise. I played the second, then the third. Same thing. Static. No voices, no clear sound. I almost felt relieved. “See? Nothing,” I said to myself. But when I played the fifth message, everything changed. At first, it was the same static. Then slowly, I heard something else. Breathing. Not mine. Slow and uneven, like someone trying to stay quiet.

I leaned closer to the phone, my heartbeat getting faster. The breathing became clearer. And then I heard a whisper - “Pick up…” I froze instantly. That wasn’t my voice. Not even close. My hands went cold, and I dropped the phone on the table. “No… that’s not real,” I whispered. But it was. It had to be. I didn’t want to listen to the rest, but curiosity kept pulling me back. After a few minutes, I picked up the phone again and opened the last message. This time, I heard footsteps. Soft, slow, echoing like someone walking in a hallway. Then a door creaked open. A sound I knew too well. It sounded exactly like my apartment door.

The whisper came again, closer this time, clearer than before - “You’re still sleeping…” My heart started pounding. I didn’t understand what I was hearing. Then another voice came. My voice. Distorted, tired, like I had just woken up - “I’m trying to wake you up…” I shook my head immediately. “I didn’t say that…” I whispered. The recording continued. There was a sudden loud thud, like something heavy hitting the floor, and then silence. I didn’t move for a long time.

I just sat there, staring at the phone, trying to make sense of it. But nothing made sense. Slowly, I stood up and looked around my apartment. Everything looked normal. The door was locked, the windows were closed. Nothing seemed out of place. But something felt wrong. Like I was missing something important. That’s when I noticed it. Near my bedroom door, there was a faint mark on the floor. Like something heavy had been dragged. My stomach dropped. I followed the mark slowly, step by step, until it led me to my bed. I looked down. The bedsheet was slightly pulled, wrinkled in a way I didn’t remember. Like someone had been standing there. Watching me while I slept.

My hands started shaking again as I picked up my phone and checked the call log one more time. All 27 calls were there, all made between 2:00 AM and 3:00 AM. Then I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. The last call wasn’t missed. It was answered. Duration: 2 minutes 17 seconds. My breath stopped. I don’t remember answering any call. I don’t remember waking up. With trembling fingers, I opened the details. There was an audio recording attached. Automatic call recording.

I didn’t want to play it, but I did. The recording started with silence. Then breathing. Two different breaths. One was mine - slow and deep, like I was asleep. The other was closer, right next to the mic. Watching. Waiting. Then my voice came through, confused and half-awake - “Who is this…?” There was a pause. Then the other voice replied. Calm. Soft. So close it felt like it was inside my head - “You.”

If you want to read more scary stories visit our Blog link in bio.