A Wrong Number

*Author's note: This is an older story, from about a year ago. It's the only 'non-disturbing' story I tried to write. I might have failed...


It was the middle of the night when he called.

"Hello?" Amelia said groggily.

"Hello? Who is this?" Came the reply. A man's voice. Deep, alluring, but that of a complete stranger.

"Uhm, you called me... it's four in the morning, who is this?" Amelia was annoyed. Wrong caller, she thought to herself, and prepared to hang up.

"Oh. Oh, sorry. I guess I got the wrong number. I'm really sorry for waking you up." The line went dead and Amelia slammed down the phone. Rolling over, she sighed and fell back asleep.

The next night, the phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Oh. Sorry, I think I dialed the wrong number again."

"Oh, hi, it's you again. Yeah, I think you have the wrong number."

"Sorry. I'm just trying to call a shipping company to check my order, and the number is really similar to yours."

"No, it's okay. I was just sleeping." Maybe the man detected a bit of sarcasm in her voice, because he replied,

"Sorry."

And hung up.

The next night, the phone rang a third time.

"Will you get the number right?" Amelia blew up into the reciever.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, see, I have these big clumsy fingers and I can't seem to dial the number right... I'm sorry."

Sighing, Amelia flopped back onto her bed. "No, I'm sorry for shouting like that... the neighbours probably think I'm nuts."

The man chuckled. "Well, you can always let them know there's a man in your life... that'd drive any girl nuts, I think."

They both laughed. Amelia tilted her head and asked, "Hey. What's your name?"

"Danny. Danny Oxford. And you?"

"I'm Amelia. I'm not telling you my last name. You might be a pervert." Although she believed no such thing.

"Nice to meet you Amelia."

"Likewise."

"So, I formally apologize for calling you at this obscene hour." Amelia smiled at his tone of voice.

"I formally accept your apology."

"Well, then, goodnight Amelia."

"Goodnight Danny."

And they hung up.

The next night, the phone rang again.

"Hello Danny."

"Hey Amelia."

"Wrong number again?"

"Actually... this is gonna sound weird, but bear with me."

"Okay..."

"I just sorta... wanted to hear your voice."

"Uhm. Really?"

"Yeah. Even though I don't really know you."

Amelia was touched. Not many guys would admit something like that. "Well Danny, I'm 23 years old... I live in a small apartment building. I work for a telephone company during the day and study at night. I want to be a marketing executive when I get my degree... my favourite colour is green and like all girls, I enjoy candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach."

"Wow, that's a lot to digest. As for me, you know my name, Danny Oxford. I'm 25 years old, I drive a broken down Prelude... I work in retail, for Winners... I live in California, and I have a pet dog."

"You live in California?!"

"Yeah, why?"

"So do I..."

"Oh. Probably because the shipping company is in Cali too."

"Oh right. Haha... I thought it might be fate."

"Yeah... haha. Anyways Amelia, it was nice talking to you... you sound like a really nice person."

"Hey Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me during the day."

"Oh. Oh! Sure, sure. Talk to you tomorrow Amelia."

"Goodnight, Danny."

The next night, the phone rang again.

"Danny?"

"Ohmigosh Amelia, I'm so sorry. I tried to call you, but I was sorta nervous and I actually dialed the number for the shipping company..."

Amelia laughed. A clear, musical tinkling laugh.

Danny laughed too. "I love your laugh. Even though it's night, it seems to brighten my day."

"That makes no sense!"

"I know. I'm not a skilled wordsmith, haha."

"Yeah..."

"So Amelia... I was just wondering. Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Nope. I didn't have that much time for one. and now that I do... well, they're all taken."

"Haha... I don't have a girlfriend either. Well, I did. I broke up with her."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that!"

"No, don't be. She was cheating on me with my cousin."

I'd never cheat on you, Amelia thought, then shook her head. What am I thinking? He's a complete stranger... and yet...

"Well, anyways, goodnight Amelia."

"Goodnight Danny."

"Sweet dreams."

"You too."

And they hung up.

The next night, the phone rang.

"Hey Amelia."

"Danny? Can you quit calling me at night?"

"Oh. Sorry."

"Haha, you have to stop saying that too. I stayed up tonight waiting for your call."

"Really?"

"...Yeah."

"Oh. I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Will you go out with me?"

Amelia sat for almost 10 seconds in open-mouthed shock before answering. "Danny, I hardly know you!"

"I know, but... hear me out okay?"

"Okay..."

"Well, when I called you that first night, it was a mistake, and so was the second night, but then I really started liking your voice and before I knew it, I had sorta, well, fallen in love with you, and I'm kinda embarrassed, but also kinda glad, cause I dunno-"

"Whoa, Danny, back up. You say you love me?"

"Yeah, I guess I do."

"You don't know me that well..."

"I can tell. Your voice, the way you speak. You can make me laugh. That's all that really matters."

"Uhm, then, I guess..." Amelia bit her lip.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Oh great! What time should we meet? And where?"

"Well, which Winners do you work at?"

"Uhm, the one near the McDonalds..."

"Beside the subway?"

"Yeah! Yeah, that's the one."

"Oh, okay, I'll meet you... at... how about that new Italian restaurant?"

"The East Side Mario's? At... say 7:00?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, sure, I'll meet you there."

"Goodnight Danny."

But he had already hung up.

The next day, Amelia put on a short black skirt and a white blouse. She slung her hangbag over her arm, applied her lipstick and perfume, and glanced in the mirror. [i]Not bad,[/i] she thought to herself. She skipped to her waiting car, ready for a date with her mystery man.

She turned up her radio, started the car and spun out of the driveway. She headed down the street towards the East Side Mario's, all the while thinking about Danny, his voice, and how he would look like.

Her cell phone rang. It was her friend Magda. "Hey Mag, what's up?"

"Hey Ammy, you sound bright and cheery. Let me guess, it's a man?"

"Ahahaha... you know me too well."

"Yeah, heh. So, who is it?"

"Oh, it's a secret..."

"Ooooooh! Mystery date!"

"Haha, yeah." Amelia swerved to avoid a speeding car.

"Hope you have fun then!"

"Okay, bye Mag." Amelia had hardly put the phone down when it rang again. "Hello?"

"Hey Amelia!"

"Danny! I was just on my way!"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I'm heading to the East Side Mario's..."

"No, I thought I was coming to pick you up! At the dock right?"

"I said meet there at Seven O' CLOCK! Not dock, haha."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, pretty sure..." Amelia eyed the oncoming traffic closely. One red car was swerving erratically. She began to change lanes, just in case.

"Oh. I guess I'll head back to the restaurant then."

"Yeah, I guess so. See you there."

As Amelia turned to put down her cell phone, the red car in the oncoming lane swerved to make a U-turn. Amelia looked up just in time to see the other driver look up too. After putting down his cell phone.

Through the windshield, they looked at each other. A red Prelude. His eyes were the perfect blue, but widened with terror, recognition, regret, love, and ultimate sorrow. And she knew her eyes must have looked the same.

Then they collided, in a shower of glass, sparks, flame, and the screech of twisted metal.

The Ninth Master

The Ninth Master
August 14, 2007

"He doesn't get out much, does he?"

"I don't know if he has any friends."

"I've never seen him even talk."

Jonas heard all their comments. The school hallways smelled the same as usual: cigarette smoke hazed the air, while the sharp scent of sweaty bodies clung to him like a living being. The comments would sound harsh, even if they did bother to keep their voices down, but Jonas continued to trudge through the littered corridors. There wasn't much interesting about the outside world nowadays. Not since he had found her.

Just this morning, he had whispered a quiet goodbye as she lay huddled under the sheets. Of course, she couldn't respond, but he felt her response in his heart. From the first day, he knew that everything else was a waste of time, and the only real thing was what she brought to him. And even as he passed under the doorway of his first class, he had her in his thoughts.

"Jonas, you're late again," the professor muttered. Jonas stared back blankly, until the older man looked away; it was their daily ritual, and neither of them really cared much anymore anyways. The teacher had become an annoyance, the student had become an oddity. Jonas' relationship with school could be compared to a fish's relationship to water. The fish lives in water because it has to, and even if it desired to, it could never leave without much struggle.

The teacher's voice drained like a unplugged sink as the day dragged on. Jonas found himself ever restless, fidgety and anxious. It was the same ritual every day, how he longed for the clock to tick by faster, for the sun to set sooner, and that every moment would bring him closer to her. Yes, it was true what his schoolmates had said. He had no friends, no human ones, at least. But as long as he had her, he would never be alone, never be unhappy, and the sharp words would bounce of his love for her.

And finally, the sharp twang of a school bell rang, signaling the end of another long, tedious day. The air filled with the sound of clashing desks, the rustle of schoolbags, and the muttered 'Goodbye sir," and "See you tomorrow, sir". Jonas packed up, and without a glance at his teacher or classmates, he walked out the door.

He went straight home. While others went to the mall, or hung out behind the school with drugs and cigarettes, Jonas pelted straight for his house, running all the way, even though his lungs crackled in protest and his brain pounded in response. Throwing open the door, he climbed the stairs on all fours, three at a time, ignoring his mother's calls, and slammed his bedroom door shut, locking it in once swift motion.

She was already there, waiting for him.

***

The next day, when Jonas woke up, he hopped out of bed and went straight to her, without bothering to turn on the lights. For five minutes, he basked in her warmth, taking her in like a seamless vision. He only stopped when he heard his mother calling, and then he knew it was time to go.

"Goodbye, love. I'll be back," Jonas whispered. He only spoke to her nowadays, so his voice had degraded into a harsh croak from lack of use. But he knew she didn't care, she didn't mind what his voice sounded like, only caring that he was there, and when he was away.

The ritual began again. Brushing his teeth, taking a shower, getting changed and eating breakfast. He did all this mechanically, because when he was away from her, his spark of life was gone, his soul was taken away, and nothing could compare to the emotions she aroused in him. He headed towards the school, once again a zombie, and arrived to the whispers and jeers of his ignorant schoolmates.

"You're late again, Jonas," the professor muttered, once again falling into the same, repetative routine. Jonas barely muttered a response, taking his usual seat at the middle of the class.

Balls of paper flew, whispers rebounded from student to student, and the teacher droned on and on, and all throughout, Jonas just kept an eye on his watch, every tick a crash in his heart, every moment bringing him closer. Then, as the last tick of the day snapped past the 60 minute mark, the bell clashed again, and the students jumped up in unison, grabbing bags and wayward pencils, and all heading out as one herd.

Jonas, again, dashed for home, his jacket trailing. He could see his house now, and in his house, his room, and in his room, he knew she waited. So he kept his eyes on the prize, and almost didn't notice as he bolted into the busy intersection, at least until the SUV came out of nowhere and broke both his legs at the knees.

***

Jonas awoke, in a brightly lit room. At first he couldn't figure out where he was. His mother was there, and one of his old friends from school, from far back when he actually had friends. He could feel a sharp pain in his lower body, and when he tried to stand, the pain came with such intesity as to make him gasp.

"No dear! Don't move!" his mother shouted, holding both his bandaged legs still. The sharp tang of anaesthetic hit his senses as he realized what had happened. Immediately, he knew, and struggled ever the more fiercely, until his mother called a doctor, and he felt the needle pierce his arm. Then, the world faded as he fell into darkness, his thoughts focused on only her.

It was a while later when he awoke. He knew, because the lights outside his window were darker, and the staff seemed a lot quieter. He turned over, and spotted his friend sitting in the dark. Dredging through his memory, he pulled up a name.

"John," Jonas croaked, his throat dry.

Instantly, John stood up and leaned over the hospital bed. "Hey Jonas. It's- It's been a while."

Unsure of what to do, Jonas tried to smile, but his face had forgotten how to, outside of her presence. Instead, he coughed uneasily, and John sat back down.

"You know, we missed you," John began, staring out the window as he tried to find words. "After you stopped hanging out with us, and just stayed at home all the time. I don't know what happened... we all assumed something bad, you know."

He turned to look at Jonas now, who almost felt a twinge of regret. But his mind quickly focused back on her, and he responded, "I- I had something-"

Jonas paused. His situation finally hit him. He couldn't walk back to the house, no matter how hard he wanted to. She was alone now, without him, and the thought was like a dagger in his mind. As he mulled over his options, his panic growing, he could only see one solution.

"John," Jonas rasped. "John- I know I haven't been the best friend. But, I need you to do something for me."

John leaned in, listening carefully. "We go way back. I'll do whatever you need, whatever you-"

"But," Jonas interrupted. "You can't tell anyone. Seriously. I'll give you 500 bucks to keep your mouth shut."

Looking shocked, John tried to protest. "Jonas, man, I'll do it for free, you keep your money, I-"

Jonas silenced him with a wave. "No, because if you do tell... I'll hunt you down, and I'll kill you. So the money is for my peace of mind, so I know you'll keep quiet about this."

He continued. "You need to go to my house. I have the keys here. Just go, when no one is around. Head for my room, and push the bed aside. There's a trapdoor no one else knows about. It leads down to one of the closed-off rooms, boarded up when we moved in. Go down there."

Jonas coughed. The medication was making him drowsy. With a last effort, he gasped, "Bring food. And water. Take care of her until I get back."

And then he fell back, fainted from strain and stress, while John looked on, with a look of astonishment on his face.

***

Jonas felt her shaking him, pushing at his shoulders like she had never done before. Then her face blurred, and she turned into John, who was shaking him, whispering something anxiously.

"Jonas! Jonas!"

"John, did- did you go?" Jonas looked up into John face, but the latter's expression was unreadable.

"Jonas. Who is she?" John's face was cold.

"I- I found her."

"How long has she been down there? How long have you been keeping her?" John's sharp questions were like daggers in Jonas' heart. He had never told anyone before, and if John decided to go to the police, or his mother...

Jonas swallowed hard. "It wasn't me. I... obtained her, a long time ago. I can't tell you where. I just feed her, and keep her down there, and whenever I feel the need to, I-I go down, and I... I play with her."

He burned with shame. He hadn't imagined it would be this way, with his old friend watching with such a harsh expression.

"So," John said with contempt. "She's your sex slave. You're just keeping her alive, like some living sex doll, for your own pleasure, and whenever you feel the urge, you go down there, into that tiny room, and you just fuck the hell out of her?"

"John," Jonas pleaded. "John, please."

"You can keep your 500."

"No! John, please, you- you can't tell anyone!"

A slow smile crossed over John's face. "No, I'm not going to tell anyone. But neither will you."

And with that, John pressed a pillow over Jonas' face, pushing down with all his strength. Jonas screamed, his mind going black from the lack of oxygen, but the sound was muffled by the cloth and feathers. He kicked, but that just sent a sharp sting of unbearable pain up his legs, and he screamed all the louder. But it was no use. His mind faded, his fingertips and legs going numb, and all he could think about was her.

And the last thing he heard was John's voice, deep in his ear. "She's mine now."

***

John pulled the pillow off Jonas' face. Now he looked calm, at rest, like how he used to look before he found her. He spent a moment looking at his old friend's body, and felt a twinge of remorse. None of this should have happened.

Then he opened the room door. "Doctor! come quick! Something's wrong!"

The lights flicked on as the nurses rushed in. The doctor arrived seconds later, and John stepped back to let him in. Within 5 minutes, the diagnosis was complete. Jonas has suffocated, most likely brought on by complications and blood loss. The bruises around his face were from the crash, and his inflamed windpipe was from the weeks and months of silence he had gone through. It was an accident.

John almost felt like crying for his friend, but his excitement was too great, and too fierce. Another few hours, and he would be back in that room, where she lay, trussed and tied, waiting for him.

***

It was dark. She knew that, and only that. She didn't know much anymore.

The creaks came from above, like thunder in her ears, and the light shining through the cracks rarely reached her milky-blind eyes anymore. Her wrists and ankles, rubbed raw and scarred from the thick ropes, moved imperceptibly across the dusty floor. Her mouth moved soundlesly beneath the gag; she had forgotten how to talk a long time ago.

And then, the door opened again, and like an animal, she winced, her legs tightening, preparing for the usual. But no, this time it was someone different. She could feel his hands, his voice in her ear, his tongue moving across her unresponsive body, and then she could feel him press between her legs,deep inside her.

No, she didn't know much anymore, her mind long broken, trained, brainwashed. But still, she let loose a scream of despair deep within the still-sane part of herself, a shriek that would never be heard, as she passed once again, and again, from one master to another.