The Man Who Answered Tomorrow’s Phone Call
Chapter 1 – The Call at 2:13 AM
Ethan Ward sat hunched over his desk, the cursor blinking on an empty Word document. His coffee had gone cold an hour ago, but he still sipped at it absentmindedly, hoping it might jolt some creativity into his veins. He was thirty-two, a once-promising writer whose debut novel had received modest praise but whose career since had been a string of unfinished manuscripts and rejection letters.
Bills piled up on the corner of his desk. His landlord’s notice sat unopened. Outside, the city hummed with its late-night sounds, but inside, Ethan’s apartment felt like a mausoleum of broken dreams.
Then his phone rang.
He startled—it was 2:13 AM. No one ever called him at that hour. He grabbed the phone, looked at the screen, and froze.
The caller ID displayed his own number. Not just his number, but something stranger: Tomorrow – 2:13 AM.
Confused, he answered.
“Hello?”
Static buzzed for a moment, and then—his own voice, calm but tired, came through.
“Ethan, don’t drink the coffee tomorrow morning. Trust me.”
The line went dead.
Ethan stared at the phone, heart racing. He replayed the words in his head. His own voice, unmistakably. Tomorrow’s coffee? What the hell was happening?
He didn’t sleep that night.
Chapter 2 – The First Warning
The next morning, Ethan stumbled into his kitchen, bleary-eyed. He reached for the coffee pot out of habit, then stopped. His phone call. His voice. Don’t drink the coffee tomorrow morning.
For a moment he laughed at himself. Am I seriously going to obey some midnight prank call? From myself?
But something in his gut told him to listen. Instead, he poured the coffee down the sink.
At 10 AM, his landlord knocked. Irritated, Ethan opened the door.
“Ward, you gotta pay up. Last warning.”
“I’ll get you the money,” Ethan muttered.
The landlord sighed and walked away. Ethan shut the door, frustrated. He turned back toward the kitchen—just as he saw his neighbor’s cat leap onto the counter, knocking over the mug he had poured earlier.
The mug shattered on the ground, but what froze Ethan’s blood was the faint blue powder clumped at the bottom of the mug. Something had been mixed into the coffee. Poison?
His stomach dropped. If he had drunk it…
The phone call had saved his life.
Chapter 3 – The Pattern
The calls came again. Always at 2:13 AM. Always his own voice. Always from Tomorrow.
The second night:
“Don’t take the subway tomorrow.”
Ethan obeyed. The next day, he saw on the news that the subway he normally rode had derailed, killing three and injuring dozens.
The third night:
“Don’t answer the door at 6:45 PM.”
That evening, someone pounded on his door exactly at 6:45. He stayed silent. Later, he learned that a burglar had been caught in the building, checking for unlocked apartments.
Each time, the warnings were small but precise. Each time, they saved him.
Ethan’s fear began to mix with curiosity. Was he really talking to his future self? Was time folding in on itself, giving him a lifeline? Or was this some elaborate hallucination born from stress, insomnia, and desperation?
Still, he listened. Because each warning proved real.
Chapter 4 – The Temptation
By the tenth call, Ethan’s paranoia had begun to shift into greed.
If his future self could warn him about danger, why couldn’t it also warn him about opportunity?
That night, he picked up the phone eagerly.
“Ethan,” his own voice whispered, “tomorrow… don’t go outside.”
“No, wait!” Ethan blurted out. “Tell me something useful. Something I can use. Lottery numbers, stocks, anything!”
But the line had already gone dead.
The next day, Ethan stayed inside. Gunshots erupted on his street that afternoon.
Safe again. But restless.
That night, when the phone rang, he didn’t wait.
“Tell me how to fix my life!” he demanded. “Tell me how to succeed! If you’re really me, you know I’m drowning here.”
Silence. Then a chilling response:
“You don’t want to succeed, Ethan. You want to survive. And survival is all I can give you.”
Chapter 5 – The Breakthrough
The next few calls became more urgent.
“Don’t trust the man in the green jacket.”
“Stay away from 5th Avenue tomorrow.”
“Whatever you do, don’t open the envelope in your mailbox.”
Each warning Ethan followed. And each day, disaster brushed close but never touched him. He felt like a ghost, walking just ahead of death’s scythe.
But his obsession grew. He stopped writing, stopped leaving the apartment unless necessary. He lived only for the calls at 2:13 AM.
Then one night, his voice changed.
It wasn’t calm anymore. It was panicked.
“Ethan, you have to listen carefully. Tomorrow—don’t answer the phone.”
His blood ran cold.
Chapter 6 – The Forbidden Call
The next night at 2:13 AM, the phone rang.
Ethan sat at his desk, trembling. Sweat dripped down his temples. He remembered the warning: don’t answer the phone.
The ringing echoed through the room. He stared at the glowing screen: Tomorrow – 2:13 AM.
His hand hovered over the phone. His entire being screamed not to pick up.
But curiosity overwhelmed him. Slowly, he answered.
“Hello?”
Static. Then—his voice, but distorted, broken, frantic.
“You weren’t supposed to answer. You weren’t supposed to hear this.”
“Hear what?” Ethan whispered.
“The warnings don’t save you, Ethan. They trap you. Each time I warned you, each time you obeyed, the loop grew tighter. We’re not escaping fate—we’re feeding it.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Yes, you do.” The voice cracked into a sob. “We’re not speaking across time. We’re speaking across the noose tightening around us. Every choice you follow is one less branch. One less chance. You’re walking into the end I already saw.”
The line went dead.
Ethan sat in silence, the weight of dread crushing him.
Chapter 7 – The Envelope
The next day, Ethan avoided leaving his apartment. He didn’t eat, didn’t write, didn’t move.
At noon, the landlord slipped an envelope under his door. Ethan froze. He remembered one of the warnings: Don’t open the envelope in your mailbox.
But this wasn’t the mailbox. This was his door. Did it count?
He stared at the envelope for hours. Finally, trembling, he opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper. No rent notice. No threat. Just one sentence, typed:
“STOP ANSWERING THE CALLS.”
Ethan dropped the letter, heart pounding.
Chapter 8 – The Last Call
That night, he sat with the phone in his hands, waiting.
At 2:13 AM, it rang.
He didn’t want to answer. But he also couldn’t resist.
He pressed the green button.
“Ethan,” his voice whispered, broken and hollow. “This is the last warning I can give. If you keep answering, there will be nothing left of us. The calls don’t come from tomorrow. They come from the end. From the moment of death.”
Ethan’s breath caught. “So what happens if I stop answering?”
“Maybe you’ll live your own life again. Maybe you’ll die tomorrow. But at least it will be yours. Right now, you’re just repeating the same road I walked.”
The line clicked off.
Chapter 9 – Choice
The next night, at 2:13 AM, the phone rang again.
Ethan sat in the dark, staring at it. His heart thundered in his chest.
The screen glowed: Tomorrow – 2:13 AM.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
He didn’t move.
On the seventh ring, his hand twitched toward it—but he pulled back.
The ringing stopped.
Silence.
For the first time in weeks, Ethan felt the weight lift. No warning. No command. No voice chaining him to fate.
He collapsed back into his chair, exhausted but free.
Or so he thought.
Chapter 10 – The Twist
The next morning, Ethan woke to sunlight streaming through the blinds. For the first time in weeks, he felt a strange sense of peace.
He showered, made fresh coffee, and sat down to write. Words began to flow. He wrote about a man who received calls from his future. He poured everything onto the page.
At noon, his phone buzzed. Not at 2:13 AM, not with strange caller ID. Just a normal text.
It was from an unknown number.
The message read:
“You stopped answering. That means it’s my turn now.”
Before Ethan could process it, the phone rang.
Caller ID: Unknown.
He hesitated, then answered.
On the other end, he heard his own voice again. But this time, it wasn’t from tomorrow. It was older. Darker. Final.
“Ethan… you shouldn’t have stopped. Now you’ll see where it all ends.”
The line went dead.
The screen displayed one final notification.
Missed Call – 2:13 AM. Date: Tomorrow.
Post a Comment