It was evening. Deniz was playing a game, completely immersed, headphones on. The phone on the desk started ringing, but he didn't notice it at all. His eyes were locked onto the screen, fingers moving rapidly across the keyboard and mouse.
The phone kept ringing — insistently. It was an unknown number.
Finally, Deniz noticed the vibration and glanced over. He paused the game and picked up the phone.
— Hello?
There was no answer.
He repeated in the same tone:
— Hello? Who is this?
Only static came from the other end.
He waited a few seconds. No response. Just the low hiss of interference.
— Is this a joke? Who's calling?
Still nothing.
He pulled the phone back and looked at the screen again. "Unknown Number." He shrugged.
— Probably a wrong number.
Just as he was about to hang up, he heard a faint sound through the static. He couldn't quite make it out — maybe a breath? Maybe someone approaching the microphone?
He frowned and waited a moment longer, but still, no one spoke.
He finally ended the call and placed the phone back on the desk, shaking his head.
— Whatever. Waste of time.
He turned back to the game, trying to focus, but something felt off. That brief silence on the phone had left a strange echo in his mind.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Deniz removed his headphones and got up. He walked to the hallway and looked through the peephole. No one was there.
— Huh... What's going on tonight?
He opened the door cautiously and peeked into the hallway. Silence. No sound from the neighboring apartments. Slowly, he closed the door and turned around.
Just then, a notification sound came from the kitchen. This time, it wasn't the phone — it was his tablet. Charging on the kitchen table.
He picked it up. A message from his best friend Yiğit:
"Dude, that wasn't me calling you, but someone mentioned your name. There are some weird people outside. Be careful."
Deniz's expression tightened with confusion.
"What are you talking about?" he typed back quickly.
Yiğit replied almost instantly:
"Let me call you. Easier to explain."
Deniz hesitated a moment, then took a deep breath and wrote:
"Okay, call me."
He sat at the kitchen chair. A few seconds later, the tablet rang. "Yiğit Calling." Deniz answered.
— Hello?
Yiğit's voice sounded a bit nervous.
— Deniz… this is going to sound weird, but I'm serious. I went down to the corner store just now. There were three guys standing near the kiosk, talking. They didn't see me. One of them had a phone. Another asked, "Did you call Deniz?"
Deniz frowned.
— What? Maybe it's a different Deniz. It's a common name...
— That's what I thought too, but then one of them mentioned your building. I think he even said "fifth floor."
There was a pause. Deniz didn't speak. His eyes shifted toward the door. The doorbell earlier… and no one had been there. Or maybe they had already left.
— What do they want? Do you know them?
— No. I've never seen them before. They looked... strange. Like they weren't from around here. Their clothes were kind of outdated too.
Deniz got up and turned on the kitchen light.
— Is this some kind of prank? Hidden camera thing? You know my birthday's not today, right?
— Dude, I'm not in the mood to joke. I'm serious. Want me to come over? I can be there in thirty minutes.
Deniz thought for a moment. If someone really was watching him... maybe it wasn't a good idea to be alone.
— Alright. You remember the key, right?
— Yeah. I'm coming. Don't open the door until I get there.
Deniz ended the call and went back to the living room. He turned on the TV, but kept the volume low. The apartment suddenly felt a little bigger. A little quieter.