‘Unknown Number’ by Umaiza H
Ping!
Daniel looks up from his work, confused. It’s midnight. Who’s texting him this late? He wouldn’t even choose to be working at this time.
He picks up his phone, almost cautiously, although he probably has no reason to be worried. His cramped office starts to feel like a cell. He turns the phone over and the screen lights up with the notification.
Sandra
What’s the password for Netflix again? Heard there was a new movie out
He laughs to himself. He’s being paranoid for no reason.
He quickly fires a text back to her: Isn’t it P0pC07n157?
Ping!
His screen lights up again.
Unknown Number
Sent 1 image
The cautious feeling starts creeping up again, making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with unease. He starts to think of horrifying things the image could be: a dying person? A figure holding a knife covered in blood? His hemophobia spikes, and his breath catches in his chest. An onslaught of nausea makes him shove his head between his knees. He tells himself to breath. There is no blood. It’s fine.
He looks up again, feeling better. He checks the screen again. The message i still there; it hasn’t disappeared like he’s programmed all his notifications to do. It’s like it’s waiting for him.
He clicks the notification, and it takes him to WhatsApp. The picture is view-once. That’s strange. Who even uses that?
He taps the image.
A figure is lying on the ground in the fetal position. Its eyes are tightly shut in pain and thick lacerations of red covers its body. Its mouth opens in a silent scream Daniel can almost hear.
It’s like a scene in a medieval painting. All it needs is a jeering crowd gathered around it.
He moves to exit the picture, but examines the image one more time.
It’s him.
Almost at once, he notices his characteristic bleach-blond hair and the shadow of stubble that covers his chin most of the time.
He sits there for a moment longer before his shaking hands slip and his finger clicks off the picture. Almost as if they were waiting for him to process his shock, a barrage of notifications flood his phone. He sees a familiar name at the top and clicks the notification.
Sandra
Thanks, it worked!
Too shaken to reply, he looks at the rest of the notifications, but there’s only one more. He clicks it.
Unknown Number
Sent 15 images
He lets out a silent gasp. They’re probably more horrible images like the one he’d just seen, but he can’t stomach them all right now.
He knows they’re not real. He’d remember something like that. It’s probably some of that AI slop people are so obsessed with. Someone is definitely pranking him.
Almost as if it’s replying, a notification lights up Daniel’s phone. He clicks it.
Unknown Number
They’re real.