The Static

A Guy received a mysterious phone call in his apartment

It was a cold day of mid-January, two months after Terry Lowell moved in to a pleasant apartment room in the town of Clement, with a sole purpose of getting away from his family who constantly nagging him to find a real job instead of keep doing what he currently does.

Earning his incomes out of royalties from his books, Terry had never gone through any financial trouble throughout his two-year career as a short story writer for a well-known magazine and an author for several horror novels. He doesn't feel the needs to stray from the career path he chose on. 

For two months Terry live peacefully inside the sheltering walls of Room thirty five, trying to work out on a new story, until one lonely evening when the telephone on his living room gave out an obnoxious ring that doesn't looks like going to cease anytime soon. Terry, who's working in front of his computer intend to wait until the phone died out, which he found out was a vain effort ten minutes later in which the phone still ringing seemingly in a more relentless manner.

"Geez, take a hint." He groaned as he get up from the chair and reluctantly walk to answer the phone, fantasizing in what he's going to say to the obstinate person on the other end while doing so. What kind of persistent person who'd keep ringing after being ignored for ten minutes anyway?

The violent ring stopped abruptly when Terry picked up the receiver and put it on his ear. 

"Hello." Terry said with an irritated tone. No answer.

He tries again, speaking louder this time. And again, with no difference. All he heard was some eerie static noises, constant and bothering.

"Look, it's almost midnight and I'm busy. If you got something important to say, which you better be, just get it over with!" Still nothing other than static. Terry starts to think that it was some prank call, but as he's about to hang up the phone he heard a voice coming on from the phone.

A croaking, vague voice of a man can be heard among the steady static noises that doesn't let up. Terry tried to speak but he chose not to and instead concentrate on the cryptic voice from the other side. 

". . .Breath. . . .I'm. . . .cating." The croaked voice was speaking a broken sentence which Terry couldn't figure out.

"S**t." Terry muttered to himself, still trying to make out the words. He realizes that over time, the static noises slowly subdued and the croaked voices became much clearer. More words are coming to light.Seconds later, it becomes clear.

"Help. . . Can't breath." The croaked voice said with a hint of gasping for air, accompanied by the constant sound of static, it plays out like a radio with a bad signal. "My chest burns. Can't get out. Anybody help. . . .Suffocating." 

The last word was spoken with a grave rasp, followed by a long agonizing groan. That was the last time Terry heard the man with the croaked voice. Now he left with nothing but static, but somehow he's unwilling to hang up his phone. There might be more, he thought. 

There was none. Only static, that gradually growing more and more louder to the point it turns into nothing more than screeching noises as if there are little girls screaming in unison. With a shock, Terry throwing the receiver to the floor with a hope of getting away from the screeching noises. The attempt was in vain as he can still hear the noise clearly even though he's far enough from the phone. He makes one last effort to stop this madness by trying to pull the cord. His fear escalates when he finds out the cord isn't even connected.

Panicking, he hastily grabbed the phone and head towards the window. He opened the lock and try to pull it out, it won't budge. The window was was held together as if by some invisible force. He tried to throw the phone through the glass, but that too was useless. The glass didn't even cracked, it was as hard steel. 

"Oh god, what the hell happened?!" Terry said as he breath faster. Suddenly the air has gone stale and heavy. His body gone weary by the lack of air, he fell down to the floor. Terry felt as if his legs had turned into a pair of marshmallows, too weak and frail to maintain his weight. Soon enough Terry can feel the strengths has left his body, slowly but surely. With the last ounce of strength he has he speaks his last words.

"Help. I can't breath, my chest burns. I can't get out. Anybody help, I'm suffocating. . ." 

Terry lying motionless on the floor, his eyes staring blankly at the phone receiver that lies beside him, generating another static.

Author's Note

Would you kindly give me your opinion about it? Thank you.

Reviews

[Kaiya]

Intriguing premise. I suggest going over it and picking what tense it should be in. Since you are writing in third person, I suggest past tense. And you could skip the first two paragraphs; jump right into the story.
I'd also love to read more descriptions, especially of the ringing.

[Adri Adityo Wisnu]

Thanks! :)

[Jacob Clifford]

Huh. Interesting little story you have here, even if the concept of a looping, mysterious death is overused. I would highly suggest that you break up the first two paragraphs. They have a lot of good information, but you should break those really long sentences into a few smaller ones. If a sentence is too long and has too much information, it becomes difficult for the reader to process all the information.

[Adri Adityo Wisnu]

Thank you so much for the suggestion, sir