Teresa reached for the phone. It had been ringing incessantly for several hours now, but each time she picked up, she was answered in static. She heaved a sigh and pressed the answer button.

    “Hello?” she said into the receiver. There was no answer from the other end. She groaned in frustration and pressed the button to hang up. She slammed the phone onto the counter angrily. She couldn’t understand why this person kept calling her. If it was some kind of prank, they probably would have stopped after the first hour of almost constant redials. Unfortunately they hadn’t, and the calls had kept coming steadily. She didn’t understand it. She walked around to the other side of the counter and opened the cabinet to get a glass. She reached for the wine bottle sitting on the counter and uncorked it. She had only poured a few drops when the phone rang again. She dropped the glass, and it shattered on the kitchen tile, creating a splatter of red wine frighteningly akin to a puddle of blood. She tiptoed to the counter, careful to avoid the glass shards, and picked up the phone. She slowly pressed the answer button and held the receiver to her ear. “Hello?” she asked tentatively.

    As always, there was no reply from the other end. Teresa hung up and slammed the phone back onto the countertop. She ran her fingers through her hair, messing it up, but she didn’t care. She sank onto the bar stool at the counter, just as the phone rang again. She sighed and picked up.

    “Why do you keep calling me?” she asked into the phone. There was no reply. “Whoever you are, please stop!” she continued. She rubbed her forehead in irritation. Still, there was no answer from the other line. She hung up and set the phone down. She laid her head on the cool granite counter waiting for another ring. After several minutes of silence, Teresa looked up, hoping the phantom caller had finally concluded their assault. She picked up the phone, thinking he had somehow not heard it ring. There were no missed calls and the voicemail folder was empty. Naturally, after several hours of continuous ringing, she became suspicious. They wouldn’t stop that easily, would they?

    It seemed that they did. The rest of the afternoon passed with no interruptions from the caller. It was getting late, and Teresa had already prepared for bed. She walked back to the kitchen for some water. She avoided the pile of glass she had haphazardly swept into the corner of the kitchen floor and filled up her water glass. She turned off the light and began the dark trek through the house to her bedroom. She had just turned off her bedroom light and snuggled into her sheets when there came the faint sound of ringing from the kitchen. Teresa sat up and switched on her bedside lamp. She sat up, straining to figure out if her ears were deceiving her. They weren't. The longer she listened, the clearer the sound became; her phone was ringing again.

    She groaned and laid back down, folding her pillow around her head to block her ears from the incessant ringing. After some time and difficulty, she fell asleep.

    Teresa woke up, her hair sticking up at odd angles and dark circles ringing her eyes. Still tired and desperate for a more efficient wake up call, she shuffled out to the kitchen. She started the coffee machine and sat at the kitchen table, rubbing her eyes. A few seconds later, the notification noise sounded from her phone. She rolled her eyes and stood up to check it. Her eyes widened when she looked at it; she had nine hundred missed calls from the same blocked number as yesterday. She just stared at the screen of the phone for awhile, and she jumped, genuinely frightened, when the coffee machine beeped.

    She took a deep breath, poured herself a mug of coffee, and sat down again, setting her phone next to her cup on the table. She cast it wary glances as she sipped her coffee.

    The phone rang again, and Teresa almost choked on her coffee. She just stared at the phone for a few seconds until it stopped ringing, only to begin again almost immediately. Her cheeks were red in frustration and her brow was now almost permanently furrowed. She answered the call and held the phone roughly to her ear.

    “What? What do you want? What is so important that you have to call nine hundred times to make your point?” she shouted into the phone. She braced herself, preparing for the disappointment of utter silence from the other end, but instead she heard a voice. It was a soft voice, barely audible, and she really had to strain herself to make out the the words it was saying.

    “Help me,” it said. “Save me, please.”

    Teresa held the phone away from her ear for a moment and just stared at it. She brought it back to her ear slowly and cautiously, afraid she had been imagining the voice but also afraid that she hadn’t.