Liam’s phone buzzed at 2:13 a.m.

It was from Noah.

"I'm still here. Find me before they do."

Liam sat up, heart pounding. Noah had been missing for two weeks. The police had given up. His parents had stopped hoping. But here was a message—impossible, urgent.

He forwarded it to Harper and Zane. Within minutes, they were on a group call.

“This has to be a prank,” Zane whispered.

Harper disagreed. “Look at the message timestamp. It came from his number.”

They followed the only clue they had—Noah’s last known location, an abandoned radio station on the edge of town.

By 3 a.m., they were standing outside the rusting building. Liam hesitated before stepping in. The air was thick with dust and something else—something wrong.

Harper’s phone vibrated. Another text.

"Too late. They're coming."

The door behind them slammed shut.

Zane gasped. “What was that?”

Then, from the shadows, a voice—distorted, half Noah’s, half something else.

"You shouldn't have come."

The last thing Liam saw was his phone screen flickering as a final message appeared.

"Run."

But it was already too late.