A Personal Horror Story
Yesterday, I got an email from someone, the email read “What was the scariest experience you ever had?”
Here was my answer;
One of my offices is on the 20th floor.
I use a Microsoft phone for 4G data and hotspot. The name of my hotspot is “I am watching you!”
I set this name just for fun. Earlier I had the following names: dandanakka, FUBAR, Hen is here, No Wifi for you, etc.
So, “I am watching you!” was just a name. A fun name.
The walkway that connects the elevator and my office is extremely dark even during the day. Without the automated lights and other office lights on, one literally cannot see anything.
It was just another office day. Two devices were connected to my hotspot: my Mac and my iPhone.
When my work got over at around 10 in the night, everyone had left the office and I was the last one to leave. I packed my belongings, locked the door, and took the elevator.
When I reached the ground floor, I realized that my Microsoft phone was missing. So, I went to the 20th floor again to check if I had left it there.
It was so dark. I looked around watchfully and entered my office.
Here is the best part: there was ABSOLUTELY no way that I could have kept in any other room than the one I was sitting just minutes ago. I was so sure because it had happened just a few minutes ago.
The phone was not there. I checked the pockets of my trousers. It was not there. I checked my bag. It was not there. I started to worry.
In my mind, I was sure that there could be NO other place where it might have got misplaced to.
I was just getting worried until now. Just concerned. Not scared or anything else.
Here is when things changed. I called my phone from another phone in the office. The call got connected.
The. Call. Got. Connected.
I said “Hello.”
There was an absolute silence marred intermittently by some vague ruffling noise. I freaked out terribly. I started sweating all over.
I knew that NO one could have taken it. Everyone had left minutes before I left and I was SURE I took my phone.
In an intense hurry, I rummaged through my bag and reached out to my iPhone.
Things got real creepy here.
I checked the network on it. It read “I am watching you!” which means the Microsoft phone was somewhere there, but I could not see it.
Instantaneously, a sharp chill engulfed my spine, making me shudder.
The air around me started getting chill. I could hear a subtle, distant, faint berceuse encircling me in discordant pitches. I froze and locked myself in a corner, gasping profoundly. I turned on all the lights desperately.
Someone was near me. On the left. On the right. Just behind me. I could see the robe. The hair was just breezing by. I could feel someone monitoring me at close quarters.
I could hear the lock clicking. The lights started flickering. Distant beastly laughter ripped my pounding heart apart. The rug moved a bit, knocking the wind out of me.
I was sweating all over. I could feel the sweat dripping from my face and my hands. I could feel my thighs getting wet. I could literally hear my heartbeat.
I wanted to shout for help. But words wouldn’t come out. I was petrified. I could see my masculinity jumping out of the dark, eerie window.
I had never been so scared. I whispered a hurried prayer and took careful steps toward the door. All I wanted to do was run away.
As I walked slowly toward the door, I could feel a cold breath brushing my neck.
The hair on my neck rose abruptly and I screamed loudly. As I landed my butt on the door, I could feel something under my butt.
The Microsoft phone was in my left rear trouser-pocket. I had checked in my trousers, bag, but I had forgotten my left rear pocket. The touch-screen is so screwed up that calls get connected when I keep the phone in my pocket.
Everything I felt was a manifestation of my thoughts.
I genuinely thought I would die. I was convinced that there was a paranormal being around me that night.
When I reached the ground floor, I wholeheartedly thanked all the gods out there. The security guards looked at me suspiciously. I was drenched in sweat. And tears.