I didn't recognize the number.
The contact name was just as unfamiliar: "jkyiqzo"
"Who was this, and more importantly, why does it keep coming back?" I thought to myself. It was the fourth time this number came back. Wasn't sure if this was some glitch or a virus. Even though the latter concerned me the most, I still only had the will to just delete it again. I was far too busy in life, I told myself as an excuse. In the back of my mind I did get "weirded out," even a little scared and paranoid, but I just tried to ignore it and go on with my life.
The night was late, and I was stuck at office. To keep my eyelids from staying shut, I picked up my thrift store coffee mug and saw it was empty. I left my desk to make another cup and to also buy a chocolate bar from the vending machine. As I returned with my pocket change worth of sustenance, the vibration of my phone on my desk made me jump a little. It was that number again with the name "jkyiqzo." I set down my dinner and saw they had sent me a message.
The message read: "Juk! Gjueklskn jksmnej llksi983 283788"
"What?" I said to myself. My skin started to crawl. This must be a prank, right? I did leave my phone here, unattended. Rich may be the one doing this, or maybe Bobby. They both left an hour ago, so maybe one of them stuck around just to prank me? I looked around. Besides the janitor, I most likely was the only one here this late. I didn't know the janitor, so I can scratch him off the list of suspects. My phone vibrated again in my hand. Another message. There was an image file attached to it this time.
A person was facing the camera, wearing a black shirt wrapped around their face. The lighting in the picture was red and in a concrete room. A prison cell or a basement were my guesses. The cloth was wrapped around this person's face tight enough for me to make out the shape of a nose and two eyes.
A new message came in saying the same type of nonsense:
"GGGG YYuiyuIII 8778263 GDRYYdfnjnsk"
I tried to calm myself down, telling myself it's just some random guy. Some weird dude probably messing with people, picking out a random phone number and sending them weird stuff. But the next image I got almost made me faint.
It was my car in the parking garage. There was no doubt. The license plate on it was mine.
This person had snapped a picture of it and sent it to me just now. I immediately looked around for some means to defend myself. My arsenal consisted of a ballpoint pen, my mug and the hot coffee within, my car keys and a stapler, a big, heavy one at that. Then I wondered, why don't just call the police? I mean, clearly, this is some creepy stuff, but I just kept wondering if I am overreacting. This could still be a prank. A slight breeze of optimism cooled me off for a second. Until I got another picture message.
It was my apartment's front door and window. Through my closed blinds I could still see myself watching the survival game show I watched yesterday night.
I called the police. Or at least I tried to.
If this person could keep putting them self onto my phone's contact list, apparently it could mess with its ability to call others, even emergency services. The next picture I got was of shirt-face them self, and behind them, what looked like one of the hallways within this very building. "Well, I put in a hard days' work." I muttered to myself. Only with my phone and car keys in my pocket, I moved quickly and as quietly as I could through the office with my destination being my car, or at least outside. Being the one of the two people within these walls made you feel uneasy, especially when the other probably wants you dead. When I got out, I would look for a security guard.
No luck. Only me and this creep had the place to ourselves tonight. My car was still here at least. I walked swiftly towards it, digging my keys out of my pocket. The doors of an elevator I walked passed opened. I bolted, not looking back.
A few feet away I aimed the tip of my key to the lock, lunged forward, and didn't miss. I turned it, opened the door, got in and locked it. I dreaded to look out my window. Seeing shirt-face on my phone's screen was bad enough, but seeing them face-to-face was something far worse. Yet, I have known, that, if I saw him, it would confirm that he was out there, and I was in here. I made a quick glance, saw no one, and looked again to confirm it. The parking garage was empty. I sighed in relief, turned the key and drove out into the street.
My phone kept vibrating, though. More horrors, I thought, in the form of images and nonsensical text. Half way to the police station, my car gave up on me. I was stuck on the side of the road. Great, I thought, I knew he would of messed with my car as soon as he saw it. Within the safety of my vehicle, I pulled out my phone, to see what was being sent. Among the nonsensical text, the images stood out. Each one just as heart-stopping as the last.
One was of my living room, lit only by the flash of what most likely was this creature's phone's camera. Another of my kitchen, then one of my bathroom.
One was an eight second video:
It was me. Lying in bed, fast asleep. The light from the camera didn't seem to wake me, as bright as it was.
I didn't know I snore, I thought as I watched, that's interesting. A dim little red light was glowing on my dashboard. The trunk was open. Then another buzz from my phone came in. Another picture from shirt-face. It was my spare car key I kept in the drawer in my kitchen.
The driver-side door opened.
Shirt-face was taller than I expected.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
