Midnight Raincall

Amamiya Riko kept getting strange phone calls whenever heavy rain poured down in the middle of the night. The unknown number never showed a clear caller ID. On the other end of the line, voices sounded hauntingly familiar, imitating her family members, classmates and old friends. At first Riko assumed it was just some tasteless prank.

As rainy nights kept coming, the disturbance grew worse. Even if she powered her cellphone completely off, the ringing would still echo from somewhere inside her room. The sound drifted out from under the bed, behind the wardrobe, through gaps in the wall. No matter where she searched, she could never locate the source. She covered her ears, wrapped herself tightly in her quilt, yet the sharp ringtone still drilled into her head.

Day by day, she sank into fear and exhaustion. Those simulated voices started knowing private things only she herself was supposed to know. Paranoia gnawed at her mind; she could not tell whether the voices on the phone were real people or something else.

On one terrible stormy midnight, thunder split the sky and rain hammered against the window‑glass. The ringtone blared once more. Trembling, Riko answered the call.

No speech came from the receiver. Only her own steady, slow breathing echoed inside her ear.

She froze. Very slowly, she lifted her eyes.

Deep within the thick shadows at the far side of her bedroom stood another figure. It had exactly her face, staring straight toward her without blinking.

The rain kept beating against the windows. There was nowhere for her to escape1