Romans & histoires Mason Thames Black Phone

“I wanted to hear you do it.” “You are unbelievably annoying.” “I've heard.” His phone rang before I could insult him again. Mason's name appeared on the screen, and Ethan answered while I poured myself some water. The smile slowly disappeared from his face. “When?” he asked. I stopped. Ethan listened for several seconds before saying, “Send it to me.” “What happened?” I asked when he ended the call. “The unknown number can't be traced to a person. It was routed through an online service.” “So we're back to nothing.”

And when I did, they would regret the day they crossed me. Back in the living room, the storm’s fury hadn’t abated. My phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with an unfamiliar number. I answered, my tone ice-cold. “Who is this?” A low chuckle came through the line, mocking and confident. “Mr. Blackwood,” the voice drawled. “You’ve had quite a night, haven’t you?” My grip on the phone tightened, my pulse spiking. “If you’re the one behind this—”

It’s best it goes through his company so it’ll arrive as a business mail. After what seemed like forever she let out a breather in exhaustion. Putting those unknown numbers in a blacklist was no easy feat. They kept on trooping in. Suddenly she came across one that was awfully familiar and the fact that it read ten missed calls was troubling. No netizen was that persistent so after a brief moment of contemplation she called back. The moment Damien’s voice answered her body tensed, if she knew it was him she definitely wouldn’t have called back. Well, I guess that’s her fate for refusing to save up his contact.

It was clear that something far deeper and more sinister was at play. When I arrived at the office the next morning, my phone buzzed with a new notification. It was from an unknown number, the message short and to the point: *"Meet me at The Hudson tonight. 7 PM. Daniel Blackwood."* The message was unmistakably clear—Daniel wanted to see me.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard the news.” BEEP. BEEP. BEEP INCOMING CALL: Black Raven Therese pressed the end button. Anthony furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he gawked at her like an innocent bird. “What news?” BEEP. BEEP. 1 UNREAD MESSAGE: Black Raven She pressed her phone’s lock button. “Are you serious?! I’m all over the internet now!” “Oh…the internet's not really that accessible here.” True. “Besides, I’m not interested in online dramas and stuff.”

I needed something else. Someone else. I took a slow breath, then unlocked my phone again, my fingers gliding with muscle memory. I dialed a number I hadn’t used in years. A number I’d saved under a name that would send most people running in the other direction. “Calling… Black Mamba.”

"But the legal front… that’s where Alister is striking hardest now. He knows the clock is his greatest weapon. He’s using it to bludgeon us." The satellite phone rang again, a shrill, urgent sound. Damien snatched it up. "Blackstone." His posture, already rigid, went impossibly stiffer. "What?" A beat of silence, heavy enough to crush bone. The colour drained from his face, leaving it ashen. His knuckles, pressed against the armrest, turned bone-white. "When?" Another pause.

I will put a bullet through your cowardly heart which could only hide behind a phone. Mason typed meaning every word in the sentence. UNKNOWN::: Enjoy the service, Mason. Oh ! and tell Leonel and Peter that Gerald said ‘Hi’. MASON::: Why not be a man and tell them yourself, you fucking piece of shit. He texted again but got no answer. He waited for a few more minutes and it was still the same. It was when he saw people walking out that he realized the service had ended. He saw his mom coming out and turned away quickly walking to his car.

“No, please don’t think that way. The thing is that I had no way to battle these people. It was just me…” I released him, and he staggered backwards. If… At that moment, my phone buzzed. I felt the icy shiver rock through my body. This was so bad. I slowly walked over to the cabinet and grabbed the iPhone. It was the same unknown number from the man who blackmailed me for a living. Taking a deep breath, I swiped the answer button, at the same time I informed Mr Adams to take his leave. He scurried out at once.

“Those guys have been underwater for days, if not a week. There’s no way in hell that any of their phones are still – ” Suddenly there was a ringing sound from one of the dead bodies. Everyone turned around in shock. “Find it, get it out!” Morse yelled. The nearest tech reached in the driver’s jacket pocket and fished out a phone. It was covered in a sturdy plastic case – one of those water-resistant ones. Not only that, but it was double-sized, like it had an extra-large battery. Morse grabbed the cell and looked at the screen. “It’s a 212 number, and not one in the victim’s contact list – no name. Hello?” he said, answering the call.