It was a normal afternoon.
Quiet.
The kind of quiet you get when youāre alone at home.
He was sitting in his room.
Scrolling on his phone.
Half-focused on a video.
Nothing unusual.
His mother had left earlier.
He remembered clearly.
She told him sheād be out for a few hours.
So the house was empty.
Completely empty.
Or at leastā¦
Thatās what he believed.
He adjusted his position.
Got more comfortable.
Thenā
He heard it.
His name.
Called softly.
From downstairs.
He froze.
The voiceā¦
Was clear.
Familiar.
āCome here.ā
His heart slowed.
That was his motherās voice.
Exactly her voice.
Same tone.
Same way she always called him.
He sat up slowly.
Listening.
Silence.
Then againā
āCome here.ā
His chest tightened.
āNoā¦ā
He whispered it before thinking.
Because something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
His mother wasnāt home.
He knew that.
He was sure of it.
He stood up slowly.
Walked toward his door.
Every step heavier than the last.
His hand reached the handle.
Paused.
Because deep downā¦
He didnāt want to open it.
But curiosityā¦
Pulled him forward.
He opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
He stepped out.
āMom?ā he called.
No answer.
But thenā
A voice again.
Closer this time.
From downstairs.
āI said come here.ā
His heart started racing.
That wasnāt normal.
That wasnāt right.
There was something wrong with the voice now.
Still familiarā¦
But different.
Slightly off.
He stepped back.
Slowly.
Every instinct telling him to stop.
Not to go down.
Not to follow it.
But thenā
His phone buzzed.
He looked at it quickly.
A message.
From his mother.
āIāll be late. Not home yet.ā
His entire body froze.
The phone slipped slightly in his hand.
Because nowā¦
There was no doubt.
She wasnāt home.
At all.
Then the voice came again.
Louder.
More impatient.
āWhy arenāt you coming?ā
His breath got heavier.
He backed away.
Step by step.
Toward his room.
Not taking his eyes off the stairs.
Because nowā¦
He knew.
Something was down there.
Something that shouldnāt be.
Then suddenlyā
A sound.
Footsteps.
Coming up the stairs.
Slow.
Heavy.
One step at a time.
His heart slammed in his chest.
He ran.
Back into his room.
Locked the door.
His hands shaking.
The footsteps didnāt stop.
They got closer.
Closer.
Until they reached the hallway.
Right outside his door.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Thenā¦
A soft knock.
Three times.
His breath stopped.
Then the voice.
Right outside.
Perfect.
Exactly like his mother.
āOpen the door.ā
Tears filled his eyes.
He didnāt move.
Couldnāt.
Because now he understood something terrifying:
Whatever was outsideā¦
Knew exactly who to sound like.
