Default Tone 1

It started on Saturday night. I had just walked in the door, tracking in dried yellow leaves and various sorts of dirt I would have to scrub out of the gauges in the laminate wood floor. The fresh sting of fallen leaves was still rebounding in my nostrils when I heard the sharp ring of my phone. Per the millennial generation, nobody really called my house phone anymore. Surely it was only a bill collector, and I picked up the phone nonchalantly, twirling the cord in my fingers, ready to sell the spiel of how I was a mere distant relative. However, on the other end of the call was static. I called out a few interrogative yet rhetorical questions to no avail. The static continued until I quietly hung up the phone. 

It was nothing. Surely nothing. And yet, the static buzzed around my brain long after the phenomenon of the call. 

I slept badly, got up late, and had just stumbled to the door, clinging desperately to a shoe midway onto my foot, when the phone rang again. For a split second I was weary, but then I marched over and determinedly picked up the phone. I all but shouted a greeting. Again, I was met with static but soon that subsided into a dead silence. Faintly, I heard a hacking cough. 

I was about to end the call when a dry, wispy voice spoke. "Don't go." I hung up the phone.

I threw open the door and slammed it behind me, as if the hollow bang would awaken me from my nightmare. My hand shook as I locked the door and briskly jogged to my car. For once in my life, I wanted to go to work. I needed it. I needed to get away. 

As I pulled out of the driveway, my cellphone rang. I ignored it. I convinced myself it wasn't a ghost, just a friend, but I still was a little gun-shy. I instead focused on obeying the speed limit and not driving as fast as my heart was beating, which would surely amount to a speeding ticket. 

As I stopped at the stoplight, my phone buzzed again. This time it was a text message. I checked it quickly before the light turned green. It read 'TURN AROUND'. I threw the phone at the passenger seat and floored the gas just as the light turned green. I could suddenly not care less about speed limits. 

The phone buzzed again as I approached the train station. I dared not pick it up as if it was a time bomb already past its allotted grace, and yet through my peripheral vision I was still able to see the screen: 'DONT GO. DONT RUN.'

I slammed the brakes and jerkily pulled into a parking spot. I jumped out of the car and ran towards the station, towards civilization. If there was safety in numbers, I wanted to be the proof. I dashed out to the platform, breathing heavy and looking all but deranged but I was safe. There were people everywhere.

Chatting politely, texting on the phones, staring down the tracks as if to will the train to approach. I sighed easily for the first time since the first phone call. I was safe. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding. Everyone at work would get a big laugh out of this. Maybe it was just a prank. A good one, but a simple prank nonetheless. 

The train horn sounded and a dull ding began to sound to announce the approaching train. Everything was going to be okay. People started to mull about, grabbing their belongings and patiently standing just beyond the yellow line. I faded into the crowd seamlessly, just another person, about to carry on with their normal life. As the train grew closer, a couple phones around me started to ring, ting, and buzz. I thought this odd, but was too worn out to commit too much thought to it. 

Suddenly, dozens of phones started to go off, then hundreds. Every phone on the platform began to ring in a amalgamation of preset robotic tones that sounded eerie in the unnatural way they offset the quiet morning.

People started laughing and tittering about. I stood still and focused on listening to what they were saying.

They were discussing the mass text message. It was joke, they were saying. 

How odd it was to hack everyone's phone.

But the joke doesn't even make sense.

What does it mean?

'DONT RUN' 'DONT RUN' 'DONT RUN'

I grew sick. My stomach dropped out from under me and my throat began to burn. I gave a frustrated cry and put my face in my hands. It was a nightmare. It was real. I vocally expressed my denial, my eyes blurring with tears as I ran, I tried to run so far away as to never be tormented like this ever again. 

The phones were still buzzing as the ground dropped out from under me, my ankle twisted around, and my head collided with cold metal.

The train horn seemed to be a deafening roar.