Dead Man's Phone Game Novels & Stories

It was a concrete tomb. "Give me the phone," Jordan demanded, turning to face the tracker. Silas crossed his arms, his leather duster dripping water onto the dusty floor. "Who are you calling?" "The bitch paying your salary." Holding out his bloodstained hand, Jordan locked eyes with the mercenary. "You want your money, you give me the phone." Reaching into his pocket, Silas tossed the heavy burner phone across the room. Jordan caught it effortlessly. "I'll be right outside," Silas muttered, turning toward the heavy steel door. "Try to run, and my men will put silver in both of your kneecaps."

“But don't worry! Dying is the first step.” Dead? My blood ran cold. He smirked. “Just don’t do it again.” “This is nonsense. I refuse to listen. Let me out of this fucking insane bus,” I yelled, hitting the metal ground with my right foot. The man was too cold. Too cold to the point you could not look into his eyes for too long. As if he was a grim reaper. “It’s too late. The game has already been activated, and you have been registered as a player.” His voice was too quiet. Too hazardous.

“This is The Wolf.” Will the Officer eyed the picture carefully, committing it to memory. He pushed a few buttons and things zinged and zipped and flew through the etherverse until The Wolf and the various features that made up his face were contained neatly in nice little criminal files. “He didn’t see you take it?” “No. I was careful. Do you recognize him?” “I don’t. But that doesn’t mean anything.” He slipped the phone into his desk. Marie fidgeted. “Thank your wife for letting me use her phone, would you? That was good of her.”

Shadows stretched across the walls, soft and unmoving. Then Damian’s phone rang. The sound cut through the quiet like a blade. He froze mid-motion, controller still in his hands, eyes flicking instinctively toward where his phone lay face-up on the coffee table.

She scoffs. “Always a trick hidden up your sleeve.” My pulse is roaring in my ears. My nails dig crescents into my palm. “And Dawn…” A soft, cruel laugh. “This time, you’re out of moves.” The call ends. No click. Just death. My hand drops to my lap, phone slipping against my thigh. My breath stutters out in pieces, shattered, uneven. Someone is inside my perfectly crafted game. Someone who can burn everything I’ve built. And suddenly…

I sighed and was about to stand up when I accidentally touched his phone lying beside me, causing the screen to light up. I stayed seated and casually picked up his phone, hoping I might find something about Adam. The phone had a pattern lock, but knowing him well, I guessed the possible pattern—letter Z. On my first try, I unlocked it. I opened his messenger and checked his group chat with his friends, but I noticed the latest messages were from three days ago. [THE UNTOUCHABLES] Adam: “I’m dead.” David: “Ow. Condolence, dude.”

Fuck, that shit arouses me. I moved closer to her, almost taking her lips in when my phone unexpectedly rang. I stood up and Crystal made a groan as if telling me not to stop. I smirked and walked toward my phone. It was Shadow. "It better be important if you don't want to lose your head." I threatened immediately I picked the call, my voice low and menacing. "The human trafficking guys in the dungeon are all dead." came the hurried reply. "What? How come?" "We found them all dead this morning."

She ran along the perimeter of the board looking for a way out and didn’t find anything, not even where she had come from. A pawn beckoned to her. He told her she had to see the game through before she could leave. Meredith sighed. “And how long will the game last?” She asked. “Until Death…” She heard the pawn say in Brayden’s voice. She blinked and a tear escaped the corner of her eye caressing her face as it traveled down. Meredith wiped it away, blinked, and when her eyes opened suddenly she was awake.

"So, we should probably exchange phone numbers," Adom passes Alexander his phone, taking Alexander's in exchange. They've got a game starting up on Alexander's console. Both of them had decided to just hang out and ask each other questions naturally. Alexander raises Adom's phone and snaps a picture to set as his contact photo before handing it back. Adom just adds a small soccer ball beside his name in Alexander's phone and calls it a day. "Oh? Do you play?" Alexander asks him once he's got his phone back, thumb running over the screen. "Yeah, you could say I'm a pro" Adom boasts, picking up a game console controller and starting a new run. "Hm, I'll believe it when I see it" Alexander knoc

I was met with lots of warning messages from the gamer. The creepy part was that the message was never there but the moment it got in my palms, it drones immediately. Messages popped in with bloody prints from that gamer. How he knows the phone was on my palm is one mystery that stabs my entire being with terror. “Dear Clarissa, you aren’t allowed to ditch the rounds or else a fourth person will die” 10:45pm. “Dear Clarissa you still have few minutes to get back to the game” 10:50pm.