Benny woke up with his heart already racing.
For a few seconds, he didn't know why.
Sunlight spilled through the gap in his curtains, painting a warm stripe across the wall. The fan hummed softly above him.
Everything felt normal—too normal.
Then he remembered.
The darkness.
The voice.
Tomorrow. Same time.
Benny shot upright and grabbed his phone from the bedside table.
The screen was dark.
He pressed the power button.
Nothing happened.
His breath caught.
He pressed it again, harder this time.
The screen lit up.
Normal lock screen. Normal wallpaper. No notifications.
Benny exhaled slowly, then unlocked the phone and opened the app list.
He scrolled once.
Nothing unusual.
He scrolled again, slower.
No black icon. No unfamiliar camera app. No SPECTRA.
He locked the phone. Unlocked it. Checked again.
Still nothing.
His shoulders sagged, tension draining out of him in uneven waves.
"It was just a dream," he muttered.
The words sounded thin, even to him.
He didn't really believe them. He just needed them to be true.
The rest of the morning passed quietly.
Too quietly.
Benny went through his routine on autopilot—brushing his teeth, getting dressed, eating breakfast. His parents talked about ordinary things: groceries, work, some relative he barely remembered.
Benny nodded when spoken to.
He barely heard any of it.
The phone stayed in his pocket the entire time.
Every few minutes, his fingers brushed against it, checking that it was still there. That it felt normal. That it wasn't vibrating.
It never did.
By the time he left for school, the sharp edge of fear had dulled into something quieter. A weight in the back of his mind.
Uncomfortable, but manageable.
Maybe it really had been a nightmare.
A stress thing. New phone. Late night.
That made sense.
He repeated that explanation in his head as he walked, like saying it enough times might make it stick.
School was loud.
That helped.
Classrooms buzzed with chatter. Chairs scraped against floors. Teachers raised their voices over the noise. Everything was bright, busy, alive.
Nothing like last night.
Benny sat in his seat and tried to focus on the board, but his attention kept drifting.
Every time someone's phone vibrated, his stomach tightened.
Every time the lights flickered—even normally—his heart skipped.
Once, when he glanced down at his desk, he caught his reflection in the dark surface of his phone screen.
For a split second, it looked like the reflection blinked out of sync.
He jerked the phone closer, staring at it.
Nothing.
Just his own tired face staring back.
"Get a grip," he whispered.
By lunchtime, he was exhausted from being on edge.
He checked his phone again while eating.
Still normal.
No strange icons. No hidden apps. No notifications.
Relief crept in, slow and cautious.
Maybe nothing had actually happened.
By the time he got home, Benny had almost convinced himself of it
Almost.
The afternoon passed without incident. Homework. Music playing quietly in the background. Messages from friends complaining about school
Normal things.
He didn't open the camera once.
Not because he was scared.
Just because he didn't feel like it.
As evening settled in, the memory of the voice felt distant. Faded around the edges, like something half-remembered from a bad dream.
By night, Benny had stopped thinking about it entirely.
That scared him more than the fear itself.
He lay in bed with the lights off, phone in his hand, scrolling aimlessly.
The room felt safe.
The fan hummed. The hallway light glowed faintly under his door. Everything was where it was supposed to be.
Benny checked the time.
11:21 PM.
Plenty of time.
He laughed quietly at himself.
Tomorrow. Same time.
What kind of thing even says that?
He put the phone face-down on the mattress and closed his eyes.
A few seconds passed.
He flipped the phone back over.
Still normal.
11:32 PM.
His leg bounced restlessly.
"This is stupid," he whispered.
He unlocked the phone again, checking the app list for the third time in a minute.
Nothing.
Good.
11:47 PM.
The room felt warmer than before.
Benny adjusted the blanket, then froze,
suddenly aware of how loud his breathing sounded.
He swallowed.
The phone felt heavier in his hand now.
Not physically.
Just… harder to put down.
11:58 PM.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
"One minute," he whispered. "That's it."
Nothing had happened all day.
Nothing would happen now.
11:59 PM.
The phone stayed silent.
No vibration.
No screen lighting up.
No voice.
Benny let out a shaky laugh.
"See?" he said quietly. "Nothing."
He placed the phone on the bedside table and turned onto his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin.
His eyes drifted shut.
The room was calm.
Safe.
The phone vibrated.
Once.
Benny's eyes flew open.
The screen lit up on the table, bathing the room in pale light.
The time changed.
12:00 AM.
An icon faded into existence.
Black.
Familiar.
Unlabeled.
Benny's heart dropped into his stomach.