The call came in just as they were walking past the edge of the woods. The voice on the other end was low, shaky, barely controlled. “Something’s out here,” it said. “We were just messing around, but then we heard it—like someone breathing, deep, slow… right behind us.” There was a pause, a static crackle. “It’s not just some creep. It knows we’re here.”

A second voice came on—deeper, twisted, distorted like it was dragged through a broken speaker. “Keep walking. I’m almost there.” The original voice hissed in panic, whispering fast, “It said that—swear to god—it said that out loud. Not just on the phone.” There was a shuffling noise, maybe footsteps. Then a quiet, breathless, “It’s watching.”

The line went silent for a long second… before a soft chuckle echoed through, close to the speaker, too close. “I like the way your heart races when you’re scared,” the voice murmured, impossibly calm. Then the unmistakable sound of a blade being unsheathed slid through the call. “Run.” Click.