Novel & Cerita The Call Is Coming From Inside The House

GATEMAN (into intercom) Wait make I confirm something. He reaches for the landline to call the main house— The gate phone buzzes inside. The house phone rings on the side table near the stairs. The housekeeper, dressed in grey and white, wipes her hands and answers. HOUSEKEEPER Hello? GATEMAN (V.O.) People dey outside. Dem say na Miss Imani dem come see. HOUSEKEEPER Okay, I’ll let her know. She hangs up, and just as she turns toward the staircase—

"And your guitar. We're only flying out at noon, so I'll bring them over to you." What? WHAT? "How did you get my number?" It sounds more suspicious than I intended it to. "I'm calling from your phone. I just selected home in the contacts," he replies. Oh. My. God. Maybe I never actually woke up this morning. "Are you still there?" He asks, irritation creeping into his voice. "Yes! I... are you sure it's ok?" I ask. "You don't mind coming here?" "It's fine," he says. "What's your address?"

Where is she? The longer I wait, the more agitated I become. I find myself grabbing my phone and dialing her again, my finger tapping impatiently on the side of my leg. This time, something strange happens—I hear the sound of a phone ringing, not through the earpiece, but from inside the house. "What the hell?" I say, lowering my phone and looking around. The sound is coming from upstairs. I jog up the stairs, following the sound to our bedroom. It’s coming from her bag, casually tossed on the bed. Why would she leave her phone at home?

"If this is about the media circus outside your house, call my PR team. I have nothing to say to you." "I am not calling about the gates, Adrian," I said. I held my phone close to my mouth. My voice was low, deep, and steady in the dark, freezing room. I wanted him to hear exactly how calm I was. "I am calling from your basement. Row three, cabinet one." A heavy silence fell over the line. For a long moment, Adrian didn't say a single word. In the background on his end, I could hear the faint sound of traffic and a car horn beep.

“Ok, ma’am. Thank you, I’ll get someone to your location now. I’ll ask about the outage in one second. What’s your name?” “Eloise Sulley,” I tell the operator as I hear the line mute for a moment, I’m sure they’re asking about the outage. “Ok Eloise. There’s not a reported outage, is your power out?” “Yes, it is.” Shit. SHIT! Not good. Was this planned? “Ok Eloise, can you hear an intruder in your apartment?” “Uhm, hold on,” I pull the phone away from my ear to listen closer to the door for someone in my living room. “I think can hear someone walking around, but I can’t tell.”

More treatments are coming for him very soon. I am thinking all this when my phone rang. I saw that it's from the security section of my mansion. I frowned my brows a little. Security guards don't call me without any emergency. Maybe there is an emergency at my house. I didn't waste any time and picked up the call. And after listening to the emergency, my blood gets boiled with raw anger. I barked on the phone," You morons!! Who permitted you to let her go?

9:59 pm. I had 911 on the speed dial. “I'm outside!” I shouted, trying to get his attention. How did I go from fighting for a divorce to dealing with a murderer? “I know,” he answered, I felt goosebumps grow on my skin, especially the back of my neck. His voice was coming from behind me, inside my home. “Come in, Bella” he said, I paused. He was in my house. I was still at the door side. Was I hallucinating?

There not even one person inside the house. What's going in? The door was left open yet nobody was home. Daevon and I looked at each other; thinking that something happed while he was carrying our child. I brought out my phone from the inside of my bag and dialed Auntie's number. As soon as I called, a ringing suddenly engulfed the place. We looked at each other once again before following where the sound was coming from. We found ourselve going inside and stopped at the sofa in the living room.

Adaeze conversation. Completely normal. Completely professional. My phone buzzed on the counter between us. Unknown number. I picked it up. One line. No greeting, no signature. Get her out of your apartment. They've already got eyes inside.

"Forty years of blood and judgment, ended by a kitchen knife. It’s too clean. It’s too easy." "Easy? Dante, look at the walls." A phone on the mahogany nightstand began to chirp. It wasn't a modern smartphone. It was an old-school landline, the rotary dial gleaming under the lamp. The sound was shrill, cutting through the heavy silence like a razor. "Don't touch it," Dante barked. "It’s internal, Dante. Someone is inside the house." Bianca moved toward the phone. "I said don't touch it!" Bianca ignored him. she snatched the receiver up. "Who is this?"