Aryan stared at his phone screen for the third time in a minute.
The missed call was still there- Unknown number, 11:59 PM. He hadn't heard it ring. He was half-asleep, headphones in, doom-scrolling Instagram, until he saw the tiny red icon blinking in his notification bar. He wouldn't have thought much about it if it hadn't happened every night for the past three days. always the same time and same silence when he called back. He locked the screen and tossed the phone aside, convincing himself it was a glitch. But when he turned off the lights and tried to sleep again, his mind wouldn't settle.
The fourth night, the phone rang- while he was still awake.
11:59 PM Exactly.
His eyes flew to the screen and Unknown number Again.
His thumb hovered over the green icon, pulse racing.
He answered.
"Hello?" he whispered
static.
Then breathing. Familiar. Too familiar.
And finally, a voice. Soft. Shaky. Tired.
"Aryan...listen to me. Don't go to the bridge tomorrow. Please. I'm begging you."
Aryan sat up, breath caught in his throat. That voice wasn't some prank. it wasn't random.
It was his own
"Who's this?" he asked, his throat dry.
but the line already gone dead.