[ WP ] It 's the middle of the night . Your iPhone starts ringing . You wake up . You 're getting a Facetime call from someone who died three days earlier .

A face remains frozen beneath my eyelids. I try to forget about the strange night I had before, but such an attempt warrants remission. 
 
 I spent most of the night preparing the quiet preparations that come with being a bachelor. Franklin, my room mate, has left for some time to visit his sickly Grandmother in Arkansas. I grew acquainted with the idea of controlling the minor details of my might. This had included a finer meal and glass of wine to accompany my misguided tastes. Misguided by, perhaps, my desire to be more than what I am. 
 
 After my dinner, a mediocre stew concocted of vegetables, chicken, salt, and dumplings, I wrapped my mind around the internet. Web page after web page I read some terrible tales of woe. One of a disturbed child who reinterpreted in horrific detail the darkness of her time in Hitler's Germany. The blank stare, absent look, and the blackness of her eyes that transcended the photograph. Misery, confusion, and the failure of human kind. 
 
 A similar photo grew in popularity. This photo looked strange, almost inhuman. At first, I had not the slightest idea of what ghastly creature which my eyes had examined. The face contorted up, flesh blown off like silly puddy. The image perplexed my mind beforehand, though what remained true were the set of eyes that looked beyond the photo. This disturbed me t he most. 
 
 Still, the nights escaped me. All of these horror tales or images of some human terror were just fairy tales that Cheryl and I would partake in. Our nights were darkened by these stories, filled with terror. Unfortunately, she had gone on a visit as well out of town. I still kept and extra chair for dinner, poured an extra glass of wine, and pulled up a chair for her and I to gaze at these photos and stories. Old habits die hard even for a moment. 
 
 I grew tired, though when I went to put both glasses away, I found that both of the glasses had been empty. I reasoned that my head took the wine well and slept. 
 
 A dream came to me of the lord Christ, his arms extended for me. I felt the kindness of his hands lift me from the Earth. Just then, a screeching sound echoed. The lord withered into a dark blue, with vines and thorns surging into the ground. 
 
 Suddenly, I awoke with my iPhone going ballistic. Instinctively I slid my finger to answer. It was late at night and wondered who it must've been at this hour. 
 
 I answered to Cheryl in Facetime, who's mouth gaped her face grown redder and redder. She was surrounded by black, and her eyes ran red with blood. The black in her eyes spilled into the white, until black started pour from the phone. 
 
 I threw the phone to the wall before I heard the whisper... 
 
 `` David'' 
 
 I plucked the phone up once more. 
 
 `` Do. not. make. dinner. for. me. anymore. You're inviting something into your house, it's there, at the front door. Do n't let it in.'' 
 
 A few knocks. 
 
 I arouse from my bed, finding my way to the front door. 
 
 `` Who is it?'' 
 `` David, it's me, open up'' 
 
 It was Cheryl. I looked back to my phone to find the call was gone. 
 
 I sighed, opening the door. 
 
 As I opened it a woman drenched in pure black scathed at me, her skin a vicious pale grey. She flew into the room, and I hurried my way out. 
 
 Ever since then I have never gone back. 
 
 3 days earlier I found out Cheryl died in a plane crash. 3 days later, my room mate has mysteriously died in our apartment. 
 
 Whatever you do, do not answer the knock.
