But the closet door was now open exactly three inches wider than you left it.

Not a scream. Not a whisper.

A notification buzzed. Unknown number.

The room was silent except for the hum of the phone charger. It was 2:17 AM. You shouldn’t be awake, but you were scrolling anyway, thumb moving on autopilot through a dead timeline.

The phone went black. The room was still silent.

You tapped it before your brain could stop you.

The audio was just static. But you could feel it.