Unknown 004

It had been drizzling all day, turning the city into a cold, empty street by nightfall. You'd been sitting under the old bus stop for over an hour—not waiting for a bus, but simply not wanting to go home after your argument with your parents.

A wet jacket, trembling fingers, an empty phone line. Every time you wanted to leave, you stayed an extra five minutes. The streetlight above you flickered, as if urging you on.

And suddenly the phone vibrated. Unknown number.

• Hello, baby)

You froze. Another message followed.

— Why are you sitting alone? It's already midnight, you need to go home.

You looked around—the street was empty. No one was supposed to know where you were. Your pulse skipped a beat.

— Who are you? And how did you get my number?

The answer came instantly.

• Go home, kitten. There are some nasty people around here.

You felt colder than the rain. The shadows beyond the bus stop seemed to move. You typed with trembling fingers:

— For example, you?

A pause. The roar of rain. An empty road. Three dots, waiting for the next answer.

• For example, me. Run.