LOGINEmma Hart thought she led an ordinary life—until a single mysterious message changes everything. When her phone flashes a countdown and a distorted voice warns her not to look outside, Emma realizes she’s caught in a deadly game she doesn’t understand. Shadows move faster than any human, storms rage with unnatural fury, and the city she calls home becomes a maze of fear and secrets. With only twelve minutes to act, Emma must uncover who—or what—is hunting her, why she was chosen, and how to survive when time itself seems to be against her. Racing against a relentless enemy, she discovers hidden powers, buried truths, and the shocking revelation that the world is far more dangerous than anyone could imagine. The Last Signal is a pulse-pounding thriller that blends suspense, supernatural mystery, and heart-stopping tension, asking one question: when the clock is ticking, who can you trust—and who is already watching from the shadows?
View MoreRain pounded against the apartment window like a thousand tiny fists, drumming a rhythm that made Emma Hart’s nerves twitch. She sat hunched over her laptop, fingers poised but unmoving. The words on the screen blurred, twisting into shapes she couldn’t quite focus on. Usually, a storm outside meant comfort—warm blankets, a mug of tea, the sound of rain as a lullaby—but tonight, something felt off. Her phone vibrated violently on the desk, jolting her upright. She grabbed it instinctively, expecting a call from her editor or a text from her sister. Instead, the screen displayed a message she didn’t recognize: “You have 12 minutes.” Emma’s brow furrowed. Twelve minutes for what? There was no sender, no explanation—just the ominous countdown. Her pulse quickened, a cold dread sliding down her spine. She stared at the phone, fingers trembling, debating whether to delete it. Before she could decide, her phone rang. The number was unknown, distorted, as though someone had twisted the l
Emma’s boots splashed through the puddles in the stairwell, each step echoing like a drum in the empty building. Her wet hair clung to her face, rain dripping into her eyes. She had no plan, no destination, only the instinct to keep moving. The countdown on her phone ticked in her mind like a second heartbeat.Six minutes, twelve seconds.The street outside the building was chaos. The storm raged with unnatural ferocity, and the shadows moved like liquid predators between the flickering streetlights. Emma froze at the curb, trying to make sense of the figures. They weren’t running—at least, not like humans—but gliding, sliding, twisting in ways that made her stomach turn. One paused, head tilting unnaturally, as if sensing her.Emma swallowed hard and darted to the nearest alley, hoping the darkness would hide her. Her wet clothes clung to her body, slowing her down. Every instinct screamed at her: hide, run, survive. She could feel them watching, stalking, waiting.A sudden scream pi
Emma pressed her back against the rusted metal of the loading dock, soaked and trembling, listening as the shadows hovered just outside the alley. Rain hissed around her like steam from a boiling kettle, and the storm seemed to pulse with the same rhythm as her panicked heartbeat. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her shaking hands.Three minutes, twenty-eight seconds.Her phone vibrated violently in her pocket. She pulled it out, hoping for some clue, some instruction, anything to give her an edge. The message read:“They adapt. You must move faster.”Emma’s stomach sank. Adapt? How could she fight something that could anticipate her every move? Her mind raced. She had to think like them, predict like them—or die.The shadows weren’t just following her—they were studying her, learning her patterns, probing for weakness. And yet, there was a rhythm to their movement, a pattern she might be able to exploit.She peeked around the edge of the loading dock. The alley was empty… for
Emma’s fingers were raw and slick with rain as she climbed the ladder to the rooftop. The wind tore at her coat, and the storm seemed to push her back with every step. Lightning flashed, illuminating the city in brief, harsh bursts, and she glimpsed the shadows moving below—fluid, relentless, hunting without hesitation.One minute, forty-two seconds.Reaching the rooftop, Emma collapsed onto the wet gravel, gasping for breath. The rain soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone, but she barely noticed. From this height, she could see more of the city than ever before, though the storm obscured much of it. Still, something caught her eye: a flicker of light, unnatural, coming from an abandoned tower across the street.Curiosity mixed with fear. Could it be another clue? Another trap? She had no choice. Time was slipping away, and she needed answers.Emma leapt from the rooftop to the fire escape of the neighboring building, landing hard on her side but rolling to absorb the i
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