Part - 1 The Ringing
I was in the kitchen when I heard it.
A phone ringing.
Soft at first… distant… unfamiliar.
I paused, knife still in my hand.
Then it rang again.
Louder this time.
I started walking through the hallway,
trying to trace it.
Living room. Bedroom. Bathroom.
Nothing.
But the ringing kept following me...no, growing around me. Like it wasn’t coming from one place anymore.
It was coming from everywhere.
That’s when something cold slipped into my thoughts.
I don’t own a landline.
I stopped.
The ringing didn’t.
It got worse. More aggressive. Like it was angry I was ignoring it.
I covered my ears.
“Stop!” I shouted.
Silence hit instantly.
For half a second, I thought it was over.
Then I felt it.
A presence behind me.
Too close.
And then
A mocking, evil laugh that sounded like it already knew I was never alone in this house.
It kept growing.
Louder… sharper…
Like it was feeding on my panic.
And then
It tried to speak.
Not clearly.
Not fully.
Just a sound…
Twisted into something that almost felt like a word.
Like it was trying to remember how to say my name.
I stopped breathing.
And then
The ringing started again.
Part - 2 The first warning
I ran for the door.
It wouldn’t open.
I pulled harder.
Twisted the handle.
Slammed my shoulder against it.
Nothing.
Every door.
Every window.
Locked.
Like the house had already decided I wasn’t leaving.
I started banging harder.
“Open! Open!”
A click slice through the panic
I froze.
Behind me, something flickered.
A soft mechanical hum filled the room.
I turned slowly.
The projector was on.
The wall lit up.
A room appeared.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
My breath caught.
It was my house.
No.
It was years ago.
My mother stood there… alone.
One hand resting on her stomach.
Pregnant.
Humming something soft.
But the tune...
It wasn’t right.
It dragged.
Like it was being pulled apart.
I stepped closer.
“Mom…?”
She stopped.
Slowly…
She turned.
And looked straight at me.
Not through me.
At me.
Her eyes didn’t blink.
Her lips moved.
“Don’t let it catch you.”
The screen glitched.
Her face stretched.. just for a second
Too wide.
Too wrong.
Then it cut to black.
And the ringing started again.
Part - 3 The Breaking
The ringing started again.
Louder than before.
Not from the walls.
Not from the rooms.
Inside.
I pressed my hands against my ears.
“Stop… just stop…”
It didn’t.
It never did.
It kept drilling into my head...sharp, relentless, like it wanted to split something open.
Something inside me snapped.
Not fear.
Anger.
Raw. Burning.
“What do you want from me?"
I screamed.
The sound echoed back at me.
But the ringing only grew louder.
Closer.
Demanding.
My eyes fell to the corner of the room.
The toolbox.
I don’t remember walking to it.
I just remember the weight of the hammer in my hand.
Cold.
Solid.
Real.
Unlike everything else.
I swung.
The first hit cracked against the wall.
Dust fell.
The ringing didn’t stop.
I hit again.
Harder.
Again.
Again.
Wood splintered.
Paint peeled.
Concrete began to give in.
My breathing turned uneven.
Wild.
The ringing
It was louder now.
Like I was getting closer.
“Yes…” I whispered.
“Where are you…?”
I swung again.
The wall cracked open
And for a second…
I didn’t see bricks.
I saw a room.
Small.
Warm.
Sunlight spilling across the floor.
Crayons scattered everywhere.
I was there.
Sitting on the floor.
Laughing.
Carefree.
My chest tightened.
No…
Behind me
My parents stood close.
Together.
Whole.
My mother bent down, wrapping her arms around me.
“My Pihu…” she whispered softly.
I laughed.
A light, careless giggle.
The kind I don’t remember ever having again.
Everything felt… safe.
Complete.
Then
The ringing slipped into the room.
Soft at first.
Almost unnoticeable.
My laughter faded.
Slowly.
My mother didn’t move.
Her arms stayed around me.
Tighter now.
Too tight.
“My Pihu…” she whispered again.
But her voice
It wasn’t the same.
It dragged.
Cracked.
Like something was wearing it.
“Don’t answer it.”
My heart started pounding.
The phone rang again.
Louder.
Closer.
Not somewhere in the house
Right next to her ear.
She didn’t react.
She just kept smiling.
That same smile.
Unchanging.
Unnatural.
“Don’t answer it,” she repeated.
Her fingers dug into my shoulders.
Pain shot through me
And suddenly
The wall collapsed.
I stumbled back.
The room was gone.
Just broken concrete.
Dust hanging in the air.
Silence.
For a moment… nothing moved.
Nothing breathed.
Nothing existed.
Then
The ringing started again.
Right behind me.
Part - 4 The Echo
The ringing started again.
Right behind me.
I didn’t turn around.
Not this time.
Slowly… I looked down.
My hands were shaking.
There was dust under my nails.
Blood too.
But I don’t remember getting hurt.
I don’t remember anything clearly anymore.
The room looked different now.
The broken wall… was already half-repaired in my mind.
Or maybe it was never broken.
“No…” I whispered.
“I did this… I did this…”
The ringing answered me.
Not louder.
Clearer.
Like it understood.
My head pounded.
And then I heard my own voice.
From somewhere in the room.
Saying the same words I just said.
But I hadn’t spoken.
I covered my mouth.
“Stop…” I whispered.
The voice didn’t stop.
The ringing didn’t stop.
And for the first time…
I wasn’t sure if I was the one hearing it.
Or the one making it.
Part -5 Father's Pov - The other side of the Glass
He stood still in front of the glass.
The room was too quiet.
Not peaceful quiet
the kind that felt sealed.
Inside, she sat.
Not moving.
Not looking at anything in particular.
Just… existing in a place that didn’t feel like the present anymore.
His daughter.
But not quite her.
The glass was cold when he touched it.
He didn’t mean to.
His hand just went there.
Like if he pressed hard enough, something would respond on the other side.
But nothing did.
Only reflection.
Only distance.
For a moment, his breath caught.
Because it looked familiar.
Too familiar.
Not this room.
Something else.
A different silence.
Years ago.
A house that used to feel normal before it didn’t.
A voice that used to call his name before it stopped answering back.
He blinked.
And she was still there.
His daughter.
Still.
Unreachable.
Her head tilted slightly.
Not toward him.
Not toward anything.
Just… a movement without intention.
Like her body remembered motion, but not meaning.
His fingers pressed harder against the glass.
As if pressure could become connection.
As if physics could be convinced.
“I should’ve seen it sooner,” he thought.
But even that didn’t feel new.
It felt repeated.
Like a sentence he had already lived through once.
Behind the glass, she didn’t react.
Didn’t recognize.
Didn’t search for him.
And that hurt more than anything else.
Not fear.
Not shock.
Just absence.
His hand slowly slid down the glass.
Leaving nothing behind.
No mark.
No proof.
Just the reminder that he was outside.
And she wasn’t.
For a second, he almost saw it again.
Not her.
Something else.
A memory he didn’t want to complete.
A pattern he didn’t want to recognize.
But he stopped himself.
Because understanding it didn’t change anything anymore.
She was still there.
But not reachable.
Not anymore.
And the only thing left between them…
Was glass.
Part - 6 The Reflection
She sat still.
Humming softly.
The same tune.
She didn’t know why she remembered it.
She didn’t try to stop it.
The room flickered.
Light bending for a second… like it forgot how to exist.
She paused.
Something felt different.
Not in the room.
In her.
Slowly… she turned toward the mirror.
Her reflection didn’t turn the same way.
It smiled first.
Not her smile.
Something older.
Something waiting.
“You finally came to me,” it said.
Her breath stopped.
The humming broke.
And for the first time… she was fully awake inside her own body.
She stumbled back.
The chair fell.
The door was there.
Locked.
“Open it!” she screamed.
No answer.
Only the ringing.
Closer now.
Like it was inside the walls.
And then
The voice again.
Soft.
Almost pleased.
“Pihuuuu…”
The lights went out.
For a moment...
there was nothing.
And then
Ring....
Ring....
