At exactly 2:17 a.m., Daniel Cross woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.

He stared at the screen.

No name.

No number.

Just the words UNKNOWN CALLER.

For several seconds, Daniel remained completely still in his bed. Rain struck the windows of his apartment, creating a restless rhythm in the darkness. The city outside was almost silent.

Then the phone rang again.

Daniel reached for it.

“Hello?”

There was no answer.

He sat up.

“Who is this?”

A soft sound came through the speaker.

Breathing.

Someone was breathing heavily on the other end.

Daniel frowned.

“Look, it’s two in the morning. If this is some kind of joke—”

“Daniel.”

His entire body froze.

The voice was a man’s voice.

Low.

Weak.

Terrified.

Daniel knew that voice.

He had heard it every day for almost ten years.

“Tom?”

Daniel’s younger brother was dead.

He had been dead for six years.

The breathing on the phone became faster.

“Daniel… you have to listen to me.”

Daniel jumped out of bed.

“Who is this?”

“Don’t trust the police.”

The call ended.

Daniel stared at his phone.

For a moment, he couldn’t move.

Then the phone rang again.

Same unknown number.

He answered immediately.

“Tom!”

Nothing.

“Tom, if this is you, talk to me!”

A whisper came through.

“They know you’re awake.”

The line went dead.

Daniel’s heart began pounding.

He immediately called the police.

But before he could dial the number, his apartment lights went out.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Daniel stopped breathing.

The rain continued outside.

Then he heard something.

A sound from the hallway.

Three slow knocks.

Daniel stood beside his bed.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Someone was outside his apartment.

He moved silently toward the door.

Another knock.

Daniel looked through the peephole.

The hallway was empty.

He waited.

Nothing.

Then he noticed something lying on the floor.

A small black envelope.

Daniel unlocked the door and opened it.

The hallway remained empty.

He picked up the envelope.

There was only one sentence written on it.

YOU SHOULD HAVE FORGOTTEN YOUR BROTHER.

Daniel’s hands began to shake.

He returned inside and locked the door.

His brother, Tom Cross, had died in a car accident six years earlier.

At least, that was what Daniel had been told.

Tom had been investigating a series of disappearances before his death. Three people had vanished from the city over a period of two months.

The police had called it coincidence.

Tom had disagreed.

He believed someone was responsible.

Two weeks before his death, Tom had told Daniel something strange.

“If anything happens to me,” he had said, “don’t believe the official story.”

Daniel had never understood what he meant.

Until tonight.

His phone buzzed.

A text message appeared.

CHECK YOUR EMAIL.

Daniel opened his laptop.

One new email.

No sender.

One attachment.

A video.

He clicked it.

The screen showed a dark room.

Daniel leaned closer.

A man was sitting in a chair.

His face was hidden in shadows.

Daniel’s blood turned cold.

He recognized the jacket.

The man’s jacket.

It belonged to Tom.

The video was only thirty seconds long.

Tom looked directly at the camera.

“Daniel,” he said. “If you’re watching this, I’m already dead.”

Daniel’s breathing stopped.

Tom continued.

“But the people who killed me believe you have something I left behind.”

The video ended.

Daniel stared at the screen.

A second message appeared.

THEY ARE COMING.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the apartment door.

Daniel closed the laptop.

“Police!”

He stepped back.

“Open the door!”

Daniel moved toward the door but stopped.

Something felt wrong.

He looked through the peephole.

Two men stood outside.

Both wore dark coats.

One held an identification card.

Daniel couldn’t read it.

“Mr. Cross,” the man called. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

Daniel didn’t answer.

The second man looked directly at the peephole.

Daniel stepped away.

The man smiled.

“Daniel,” he said.

Daniel’s blood ran cold.

The police did not know his name?

He had not opened the door.

The lights in the hallway suddenly came back on.

Daniel ran toward the bedroom window.

His apartment was on the fourth floor.

He looked down.

A black car was parked across the street.

Someone was sitting inside.

Watching him.

Daniel grabbed his jacket and laptop.

The door began shaking.

“Open the door!”

He rushed toward the fire escape.

Behind him, the apartment door cracked.

Daniel climbed through the window.

Cold rain hit his face.

He climbed down the metal stairs as the door behind him finally broke open.

He didn’t look back.

He ran into the alley.

The black car started moving.

Daniel sprinted through the rain.

He didn’t know where he was going.

He only knew one thing.

His brother had been dead for six years.

But someone was using Tom’s voice.

And they knew exactly where Daniel lived.