My brother’s voice cracked over the phone—low, urgent, nothing like his usual calm.
I laughed at first.
—What are you talking about?
—Listen to me, Linh—he said, cutting me off—. Lock every door. Turn off the lights. And do NOT open the door for anyone.
Something in his tone made my stomach drop.
—Why? What’s going on?
Silence.
Then, barely above a whisper:
—I think it followed me.
I stood frozen in my apartment.
It was just past 10 p.m. The city outside was quiet, unusually quiet. Even the usual hum of traffic seemed distant tonight.
—Who followed you?—I asked, my voice tightening.
—It’s not…—he hesitated—. It’s not a person.
A cold wave washed over me.
—Stop joking.
—I’m not joking!
His voice broke, sharp and panicked.
—I’m serious, Linh. I didn’t realize it at first. But it’s been outside my building… and now I think it knows where you live.
My heart started pounding.
—How would it know where I live?
Another pause.
Too long.
—Because… I told it.
My breath caught.
—What do you mean you told it?
—I thought it was someone else—he said quickly—. It sounded like Mom. It asked where you were.
Every muscle in my body tensed.
Our mom had passed away three years ago.
—That’s not funny.
—I KNOW THAT!
His voice rose, then dropped again into a shaky whisper.
—It knew things… things only she would know. I didn’t question it. I just answered.
A chill crawled up my spine.
—Where are you right now?
—I’m not safe.
The line crackled.
Then—
A faint sound.
Not from his end.
From mine.
Knock.
I turned slowly toward the front door.
Knock. Knock.
My throat went dry.
—Linh?—my brother said—. What’s happening?
—I think… someone’s at my door.
His breathing stopped.
—Do NOT open it.
The knocking came again.
Soft.
Gentle.
Familiar.
—Linh…—a voice called from the other side.
My blood froze.
It was my mother’s voice.
—Honey, it’s me. Open the door.
Tears welled in my eyes instantly.
That voice… it was perfect. Warm. Loving. Exactly how I remembered.
—Linh!—my brother shouted—. That’s NOT her!
The voice outside continued, calm and patient.
—You forgot something, sweetheart. I need to give it to you.
My hand moved toward the door before I realized it.
—Stop!—he yelled—. Think about it. Mom is gone.
The knocking stopped.
Silence fell.
Then the voice changed.
Slightly.
Just enough.
—Linh… open the door.
This time, it sounded wrong.
Too flat.
Too empty.
I stumbled backward.
—It knows—my brother whispered—. It copies voices. It learns fast.
My heart hammered so hard it hurt.
—What does it want?
—To be let in.
Something scratched softly against the door.
Slow.
Deliberate.
—Once you open it… it doesn’t leave.
My hands shook uncontrollably.
—What do I do?
—Hide. Stay quiet. It’ll lose interest if it thinks no one’s home.
I turned off the lights with trembling fingers and backed into my bedroom, locking the door behind me.
Outside, the scratching stopped.
Then—
Footsteps.
Inside the apartment.
I froze.
—That’s not possible—my brother said—. You locked the door.
—I did—my voice broke—. I swear I did.
The footsteps were slow.
Measured.
Moving across the living room.
Then stopping right outside my bedroom door.
Silence.
And then…
A whisper.
Right on the other side.
—You forgot something, Linh.
I covered my mouth to stop myself from screaming.
—What… what did I forget?—I whispered into the phone.
My brother didn’t answer immediately.
When he finally spoke, his voice was hollow.
—When it talked to me… it asked about you.
A long pause.
—And I told it… you’re afraid of the dark.
The lights went out.
Completely.
Even the faint glow from outside vanished.
Darkness swallowed everything.
My phone screen flickered… then died.
And in the pitch black, right next to me—
I heard my own voice whisper:
—You shouldn’t have answered the phone.
