Not too long ago, in a bid to become more independent, I got a new cell phone. My old phone had been acquired through my father’s company so I was never before able to get a texting plan. I was quite excited to finally have this feature. Unfortunately, I was unable to keep the number that I had for almost seven years as the company simply took the phone back to give to someone else. This was somewhat annoying but, for the most part, the people I wanted to have my new number got it. It was a good chance to audit my contacts and cut out some dead weight from the past. As I soon found out, someone else seemed to have had the same idea as me when they gave up what became my new number.

Everything was normal at first but soon, I started getting texts from someone I didn’t know. I initially assumed it was just someone that I forgot to add to my new contact list but the mystery texter refused to tell me who they were, accusing me of playing games. The back and forth went something like this, though I did not save the texts verbatim:

Mystery Texter: “Hey.”
Me: “Hey, who is this?”
Mystery Texter: “Can we meet somewhere?”
Me: “Maybe, but I need to know who I’m meeting.”
Mystery Texter: “I’m not in the mood for games, I just need to see you. It’s too much to say over the phone.”
Me: “You might have the wrong number, man.”
Mystery Texter: “You’re killing me. I hope you know that.”

This last one gave me ind of a chill at first. The feeling went away quickly as I convinced myself it was just an expression. I informed this person once again that they had the wrong number and then blocked the number. I forgot about the incident after a few days and life went back to normal until I started getting texts from the same person, using a different number. Once again, not verbatim, but the conversation was something like this:

Mystery Texter: “Please don’t block my number. I’ll just keep getting new phones, anyway, but it is annoying.”
Me: “You have the wrong number, man. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Mystery Texter: “Stop playing games. You’ve told me enough times how good you were at manipulating people. I thought I was different.”
Me: “I’ve never told you anything because you have the wrong person.”
Mystery Texter: “I know how you are. I know you’re just trying to avoid an awkward situation. I just need to see you one more time.”
Me: “I’m sorry for you, man, I really am. But I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

These texts continued for a few more days. I usually didn’t respond but every now and then, I’d repeat that the number was wrong. I thought about going to the police but the texts became less and less so I figured eventually this guy would get the picture and move on. I didn’t want to cause a fuss if it could be avoided, but in retrospect I probably should have called someone. The last text he sent me said, quite cryptically, “Well, I guess that settles that.” I texted back asking what he meant and got no response. What happened next has replayed in my head many times as I’ve tried to figure out if there was really anything I could have done. Could the police have helped? Could I have said something that would have gotten through to this guy? I try to tell myself no, but it’s impossible to know for certain.

The day after receiving the last text, I was at home alone finishing homework when my phone rang. The number was the same as the one the mystery texter had last texted me from. I answered anyway. I had never heard him speak and the strangeness of finally hearing his voice put me into a sort of shock and I said nothing. Even if I had said something, it probably would have been too late. All he said to me was “Listen.” It sounded like he had entered a wind tunnel. A couple seconds later, just before the call cut off, I heard the sound of flesh and bone striking pavement.

Source: www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/pr2s6/listen/