3:17 AM

The Last Message at 3:17 AM

At exactly 3:17 AM, Daniel’s phone vibrated.

He was awake. He had been awake every night at the same time for the past week.

But this time… there was a message.

Unknown Number:

“Stop looking for her.”

Daniel’s breath caught in his throat.

His sister, Emma, had disappeared twelve days ago. No note. No signs of struggle. Just gone. The police had stopped calling. His friends had stopped asking. But Daniel hadn’t stopped searching.

And now this.

His fingers trembled as he typed back:

“Who is this?”

The reply came instantly.

“You’re closer than you think.”

A cold wave ran down his spine.

Closer to what?

Before he could respond again, another message arrived. This time, it wasn’t text.

It was a photo.

Daniel’s heart nearly stopped.

The picture showed a dimly lit room. Concrete walls. A single flickering bulb. And on the far side of the image—

A chair.

On the chair was Emma’s bracelet.

The silver one he gave her on her 18th birthday.

The timestamp on the image read: 3:16 AM.

One minute ago.

“This is live,” Daniel whispered.

His hands moved faster now. He enlarged the image. In the corner of the photo, barely visible, was something written on the wall.

Three letters.

R M T.

His mind raced.

RMT… RMT…

Then it hit him.

Riverside Metro Tunnel.

An abandoned subway line closed after the fire ten years ago.

He grabbed his jacket and ran.

The tunnel entrance was sealed off with rusted fencing, but desperation makes people strong. Daniel squeezed through.

Inside, the air smelled of dust and something metallic.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Water echoed through the darkness.

His phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number:

“You shouldn’t have come.”

Daniel spun around.

“Where is she?!” he shouted into the empty tunnel.

Silence.

Then—

A faint sound.

A cough.

From deeper inside.

“Emma?” His voice cracked.

He followed the sound, step by cautious step, until he reached a small underground chamber.

The bulb flickered exactly like in the photo.

And there she was.

Tied to the chair.

Alive.

“Emma!” He rushed forward—

“Don’t.”

The voice came from behind him.

Daniel froze.

Slowly, he turned around.

Standing in the shadows was Officer Grant.

The same officer who had “led” the search.

The same officer who told him two days ago that they were “running out of leads.”

Grant stepped into the light.

“You were supposed to stop looking,” he said calmly.

Daniel’s blood ran cold.

“You?” he whispered.

Grant smiled faintly. “Curiosity is dangerous, Daniel.”

Another buzz.

Daniel’s phone slipped from his shaking hand.

A final message appeared on the screen:

“Now you understand.”

Grant raised something in his hand.

The bulb above them flickered once…

Twice…

Then everything went dark.

And at exactly 3:17 AM—

Another phone vibrated somewhere in the city.

Darkness swallowed everything.

Daniel couldn’t see.

Couldn’t breathe.

Could only hear his own heartbeat pounding in his skull.

Then—

A scream.

“Daniel!”

Emma.

The sound cut through the tunnel like shattered glass.

He lunged forward blindly, crashing into the chair, tearing at the ropes around her wrists.

Behind him, footsteps moved slowly. Calm. Unhurried.

Officer Grant’s voice drifted through the darkness.

“You always were stubborn.”

A metallic click echoed.

Daniel froze.

A gun.

But instead of panic, something else rose inside him.

Anger.

“You’ve been sending the messages,” Daniel said quietly.

“No,” Grant replied. “You have.”

Silence.

Daniel’s mind struggled to process the words.

“What?”

Another flicker.

The bulb above them sparked back to life—dim, unstable.

Grant stood a few feet away. But his expression wasn’t threatening.

It was… concerned.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Grant asked softly.

Daniel stared at him.

Grant slowly lowered the gun.

“There was no disappearance report,” he continued. “No kidnapping. No unknown number.”

Daniel’s chest tightened.

“That’s not true.”

Grant pulled out his phone and held it up.

“Look at your call history.”

Daniel glanced down at his own phone on the ground. The screen was cracked but still glowing.

The messages.

The unknown number.

They were gone.

Only one contact remained open on the screen:

Emma.

And every threatening message…

Had been sent from his phone.

A ringing filled his ears.

“That’s impossible,” Daniel whispered.

Grant’s voice was steady. Clinical.

“Three weeks ago, there was a fire in your apartment building. You were inside.”

Daniel’s breathing became shallow.

“You got out,” Grant continued. “She didn’t.”

The tunnel felt smaller. The air thinner.

Emma was sitting in front of him.

Tied to the chair.

Crying.

“Daniel,” she whispered.

But something was wrong.

Her wrists weren’t tied anymore.

The ropes lay loose on the floor.

Grant stepped closer.

“You’ve been coming down here every night at 3:17 AM,” he said.

“The exact time the fire started.”

Daniel shook his head violently.

“No. No, she’s right here.”

Emma stood up slowly.

Her face was pale.

Her eyes… hollow.

“You couldn’t save me,” she said softly.

The bulb flickered harder.

Her voice changed.

It echoed.

“You were closer than you think.”

The tunnel lights exploded.

Total darkness again.

Daniel screamed.

When the police found him hours later, he was alone in the abandoned tunnel.

Curled up.

Whispering apologies to someone who wasn’t there.

His phone lay beside him.

At exactly 3:17 AM—

It vibrated again.

New Message:

“You still haven’t let me go.”