The Last Message
Chapter 1: The First Text
Title: The Last Message
*Chapter 1: The First Text
The vibration of your phone startles you awake. The room is dark, the faint glow of the screen illuminating your nightstand. You blink, groggy, before picking up the phone and squinting at the screen.
You sit up straight, your heart skipping a beat. It has to be a prank. Maybe a wrong number. You shake your head and type back.
Three dots appear. Typing. Then another message.
Unknown
Someone who knows you well.
You frown. Your mind quickly runs through possibilities—friends playing a joke? Spam? You check the number. No name. No contact saved. The area code is unfamiliar.
You
If this is a prank, it’s not funny.
Unknown
Who said I was joking?
A chill creeps down your spine. You lock the phone and toss it onto your bed. Probably someone messing around. You roll over, trying to push it out of your mind.
Morning comes, and the text is still there. You check your social media, searching for clues—maybe one of your friends mentioned pulling a prank. But nothing. Just the usual posts
You get up, go about your routine, but something feels… off. The lingering weight of that text stays with you.
At work, the distraction is too much. During your lunch break, you decide to text again.
You
Why are you messaging me?
No response. You stare at the screen, waiting. Ten minutes pass. Then, just as you’re about to put your phone away—
Unknown
Look outside your window.
Your breath catches. You slowly turn your head toward the café window. Sunlight spills onto the sidewalk. People walk by, lost in their own worlds. You scan the street, searching for something—someone—out of place.
Author
From now onwards no more image references, so imagine the situation on your own, this will give you a spin thrilling experience. l
Your fingers hover over the keyboard.
You exhale sharply, setting your phone down. Enough of this. It’s just someone playing mind games.
The rest of the day drags on. You try to push the texts out of your mind, but they linger like an unfinished thought.
That night, as you settle into bed, your phone buzzes again. You hesitate before picking it up.
Your blood turns to ice. You sit frozen, your grip tightening on the phone.
Slowly, you turn your head, scanning the dimly lit room. Nothing. Your closet door is shut, your desk is the same as you left it, and the window is locked.
Unknown
Check your closet.
Your pulse pounds. Every instinct tells you don’t do it, but something pulls you forward. You slip out of bed, moving slowly. With a shaking hand, you reach for the closet handle and pull it open.
A nervous laugh escapes you. Of course, it’s empty.
Confusion mixes with fear. You glance back at the closet, then at your phone. Your thumb hovers over the block button, but curiosity wins. You flick on the light and step closer.
At first, nothing seems different. Then, your stomach drops.
A single photo is taped to the inside wall of the closet.
It’s a picture of you—taken just moments ago.
Unknown
I told you. I’m watching you.
Author
😈! To be continued…
Chapter 2: Nowhere to Hide
Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at the photograph taped inside your closet. Your own image, captured just moments ago, sends a chill down your spine. The dim glow of your phone screen is the only light in the room, casting eerie shadows against the walls.
Your hands shake as you rip the photo off the closet wall. The edges are slightly curled, the ink still fresh. Someone—who?—was inside your room. Watching.
Unknown
Do you believe me now?
Your pulse pounds. You want to scream,
You
Call the police, do something, but my body feels frozen.
You
Who are you?! How did you get into my house?!
Unknown
I never said I was inside.
Your stomach clenches. You whip your head around, scanning the room. The window. The door. The walls.
You
Someone is watching—but from where?
Fingers fly across the screen.
Seconds stretch into minutes. The silence is unbearable.
Your mind races through possibilities.
You
Maybe someone planted a hidden camera?
The thought sends fresh terror through you.
You rush to check your room, your hands fumbling as you search for anything unusual.
The vents. The bookshelves. The lamp. You even pull the blankets off your bed, your paranoia growing.
You
Nothing.... Nothing....
You sink onto the mattress, your heart still hammering. Your phone remains eerily silent.
You
Maybe… maybe they’re done.
You
Maybe this was the end of whatever cruel game this was.
Then, your screen lights up again.
Unknown
You’re looking in the wrong places.
Your mouth goes dry. You don’t dare respond.
Seconds later, another message.
Unknown
Look under your bed.
Your breath catches. A lump forms in your throat as you stare at the edge of the mattress
Your fingers tighten around your phone. You want to ignore it, pretend you never saw the message.
But a deeper, more terrifying thought lingers in your mind.
You
— what if they’re right?
Slowly, you shift on the bed. The wooden floor beneath you creaks as you lower yourself onto your knees.
The space under your bed is dark, the shadows stretching out like grasping fingers.
Your stomach twists. You swallow hard and lower yourself further, pressing your palm against the floor as you lean in.
At first, all you see is darkness. Then—
Your phone buzzes. A new message.
A sharp gasp escapes you as you finally see it.
Your phone slips from your grip, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Your mind screams at you to move, to run—but you’re frozen, locked in place.
Then, before you can react—
Chapter 3: The Hand in the Dark
Your heart pounds so loudly you swear it drowns out every other sound in the room.
The hand under your bed is still—except for that slight twitch, that tiny movement that proves it's real.
Your breath is shallow, your body frozen in place.
You
I want to run. I need to run.
You
What if it moves? What if it grabs me?
Your phone buzzes again. The sound nearly makes you jump out of your skin.
Unknown
I told you I was watching.
A shiver runs through you. Your body finally obeys, and you scramble backward,
Pushing yourself away from the bed so fast that your back slams against the wall.
Your breath comes in sharp gasps, your eyes locked on the darkness beneath the mattress.
You
The hand doesn’t move.
You
Seconds feel like hours.
Unknown
Aren’t you going to say hi?
You choke on a gasp. Your shaking hands grab your phone as you type furiously.
Three dots appear. Typing.
You stare at the phone, the eerie glow of the screen illuminating your pale, sweaty fingers. The response comes slow. Too slow.
Unknown
You already know me.
Your fingers tremble over the keyboard.
You swallow hard and force yourself to look at the bed again. The hand is still there. Unmoving.
You
I need to get out. Now.
You slowly rise to your feet, keeping your eyes on the bed, your breath shallow
Your mind is screaming for you to run—but something stops you.
Unknown
Don’t turn around.
Cold dread grips your spine. Your entire body stiffens.
The air shifts. A presence looms at your back.
Your fingers tighten around your phone.
You squeeze your eyes shut,
You
WAKE UP YOU IDOT FROM THIS NIGHTMARE.😭
A scream tears from your throat as you lunge for the door, your fingers fumbling with the handle.
You
It won’t turn—it won’t budge.
Your phone buzzes one last time.
Darkness crashes over you.
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