The buzzing woke me.
I blinked groggily at the screen of my phone, trying to adjust my eyes to the glow. The room was still dim, lit only by the filtered daylight sneaking through my blackout curtains. I hadn't gone to school today. No reason, really. I just… didn't want to.
No, that's a lie.
Something in me said don't go. A quiet voice in my gut. It wasn't fear, not exactly. More like pressure. A sense that I needed to stay inside.
And then my phone buzzed again.
The lock screen wasn't there. Just a black screen—oily and unnatural-looking, like a shadow trying to imitate a mirror. White text typed itself out. Slowly. Like something wanted me to read it word for word.
---
⚠️ WARNING #0001 ⚠️
> ENTITY CODE: SERAPHINE
TYPE: ETHEREAL JUDICATOR
TIME OF ARRIVAL: 15 MINUTES
ABILITY: REVERENT HARMONICS – causes fatal cerebral pressure to anyone not in complete silence.
SURVIVAL TIP: Do not speak. Do not listen. Mute all sounds.
ENTITY BEHAVIOR: Appears as a floating choir of human faces stitched into porcelain wings. Its eyes are where mouths should be.
NOTE: PRAY SHE PASSES BY. SHE WON'T KNOCK TWICE.
---
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
A prank?
It had to be a prank.
Right?
But then more words appeared. Final words, in a font sharper than the rest. Like it was engraved instead of typed.
---
Your phone is now your survival manual. No other functions will work.
There will be 1,000 of them.
You must endure.
—LUCIEL
🜂🜁🜄🜃
---
I stumbled to my feet, phone still in hand. My ears were ringing, though I hadn't heard anything yet. I peeked through a gap in the curtains. The street outside was… wrong. No wind. No birds. No sound.
There was a guy standing still across the road, right outside the convenience store. He looked confused. Lifted his phone. Opened his mouth.
And screamed.
Or… I think he screamed. I couldn't hear it.
But I felt it.
The next second, my phone buzzed again. No text this time. Just an eerie hum building around me, like distant violins being scraped raw. The kind of sound that gets under your skin and coils around your spine.
I ducked under my desk.
The sound got louder.
And then… it came.
I wish I could unsee it.
Above the houses, something floated—massive wings made of porcelain, layered in rows. But the wings weren't feathers—they were faces. Human ones. All stitched together. Some were smiling, others crying, one was mouthing words with no voice. Their eyes followed nothing. Their mouths were wrong.
The thing's body was a shroud of white silk stretched over a bleeding skeleton. A glowing golden eye—just one—blinked from the center of its chest. The eye didn't look at things. It judged them.
It passed over my house.
My hands clamped over my mouth so hard I thought I'd chip a tooth. My eyes were wet. I didn't even remember starting to cry.
Then I saw the guy across the street again.
He didn't scream this time. He just—popped. Like his body gave up. Collapsed in on itself without a sound. Blood painted the glass door behind him.
I nearly screamed too.
But I didn't.
I just kept biting down on my palm until I tasted metal.
Eventually, the humming stopped.
The light outside dimmed to grey. Then it brightened again, like time hit the resume button.
My phone buzzed one last time.
---
YOU SURVIVED WARNING #0001
> NEXT: 24 HOURS
Do not forget. 999 remain.
---
I dropped the phone.
My body shook. I couldn't stop it. My heart felt too small for my chest. My stomach felt too full of cold water.
Then another message blinked in.
Short.
Almost cruel.
> You're not strong enough yet.
But you will be.