You’re slowly stirred awake by the distant ringing as the phone beside your bed pulls you out of your dreams. Your thoughts gather themselves and you groan, reaching over to answer.
As soon as you place the phone to your ear, you’re greeted by the background noise consisting of twisted screams. There were people in agonizing pain begging for help or death, not that the interference allows you to hear any individual voice clearly enough.
"Get out of the house now!"
The call ends abruptly after what you could have sworn was a voice from closer to you than on the other end. You shift yourself to the side of the bed, groggily sighing while rubbing your eyes. A call this startling and this early in the morning would keep you awake.
Your husband shuffles to the side, apparently also woken by the call. He wraps his arms around you and gives a light kiss on the neck.
"Don’t worry about it." His half-asleep mumble calms you down somewhat.
Just as you’re about to place the phone down, it rings again. You fumble slightly and drop it. Instead, you feel your husband’s arms tighten around you, preventing you from leaning forward.
It’s then you notice a subtle difference between the arms around you and the familiarity of your husband’s.
"He’s too late to save you anyway."