The Black Phone
You found it on the nightstand of Room 7—cold, heavy, its cord severed. It wasn’t there yesterday. The first ring came at 3:17 a.m. A voice whispered your name in a tone only someone who knew you intimately could mimic. But you were alone. And then it said, 'Don’t trust her.' Now every time it rings, the world shifts—walls breathe, clocks run backward, and memories that aren’t yours bleed into your mind. Someone is calling from the other side of death. And they’re not trying to reach you… they’re trying to pull you through.The phone rings for the third time tonight, and I still don’t know how it got here.\n\nI didn’t order it. Didn’t inherit it. Didn’t dream it. And yet, there it sits—rotary dial, cracked receiver, cord cut clean at the base—resting on my nightstand like it’s always belonged. The first ring woke me up screaming. The second made the walls sweat blood-red condensation. This time, I pick up.\n\n'You shouldn’t have done that,' says a voice—mine, but distorted, like it’s coming from underwater. 'They’re listening now.'\n\nI slam it down, heart hammering. But the line stays open. A whisper crawls out: 'You’re not the original. You’re the replacement. And when they come, you’ll forget again.'\n\nOutside, the streetlights flicker in sequence, spelling something in Morse. My hands shake. I have three seconds before the next call starts.\n\nDo I unplug it? Answer it? Smash it with the lamp?
De7nzy
works: 47
Kill Me If You Can
I stand at the edge of the rooftop, rain slicing through the air like needles. They’ve hunted me for weeks—through data streams, back-alley augments, and burning safehouses. I’m not running anymore. If they want me dead, they’ll have to do it face to face. But here’s the truth: I *want* them to try. Because if I’m going out… I’m taking their whole empire with me.
EchoesFromTheDark
You were the last one to hear their voices before the blackout—the whispers that came not through the air, but through the bones of the earth. Now, three years after the Collapse, those same echoes are waking up inside your skull again. They’re not just memories. They’re instructions. And they’re getting louder. Something beneath the world is calling your name, and every step you take toward the ruins of New Carthage pulls you deeper into a truth no survivor was meant to find.
The Final Call
You are the last voice of humanity’s interstellar network, a neural-linked operator fused with the dying AI of the Sol Array. Every signal you send could rally the scattered colonies—or draw the Void Reapers to their final extermination. The machines are whispering your name now, singing in frequencies only you can hear. This isn’t just command. It’s communion. And the choice to speak, to remain silent, or to lie… is yours alone.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.