The Midnight Callers

In the heart of a desolate, forgotten town, an unsettling ritual unfolds every night, like clockwork. Just past the stroke of midnight, phones ring. Not just any call—but a call from nowhere, a number untraceable. A voice, low and eerie, utters the same bone-chilling question to every unlucky resident: "Do you want to come outside?"

At first, they laughed it off—just a prank, a cruel joke. But then, the disappearances began. One by one, those who dared answer "yes" vanished without a trace. Their homes left eerily open—doors ajar, windows wide, the air inside heavy with an unspoken wrongness. There’s never a sign of struggle. Only the faint buzz of a phone, abandoned, left hanging from its cradle, the monotonous dial tone humming in the stillness. The vanished? Gone, as if they'd never existed. Not a shred of evidence. Not a whisper of explanation.

No one knows the origin of these cursed calls, nor why certain people are chosen to receive them. Theories run wild. Some say it's a creature - a thing not of this world—waiting just beyond the veil of night, lurking in the shadowed streets, craving the invitation to step inside. Fear infects the town like a spreading virus. Anxiety seeps into every conversation, into every locked door, into the flickering light of every window. And yet, no matter how much they hide, no matter how tightly they shut their eyes, the phone always rings. Some think refusing to answer will keep them safe. But they are wrong.

One woman, more resolute than the rest, chooses silence. She refuses to pick up the receiver, convinced she can sever the grip this nightmare has on her. But it doesn’t end. Instead, it mutates. Now, in the dead of night, she hears it—a soft, persistent tapping at her windows, like fingernails brushing the glass. And her phone, silent no more, begins to whisper. Not a ring, but whispers. Faint, maddening. Even when the line is dead, the voice returns, relentless. The calls become more frequent, more urgent, more... desperate.

What if the real horror begins when you say "no"? What happens when defiance only enrages whatever waits on the other side? And what if "no" is no longer enough to keep the darkness at bay?