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The alarm wasn't supposed to go off yet. Anna jolted awake, her heart thudding in her chest as the blaring noise filled the room. She squinted through the darkness, her eyes adjusting to the dim glow of the digital clock on her bedside table. It was 3:15 a.m.—three hours before her alarm was actually set to wake her. Reaching over, she silenced the piercing sound, her mind foggy with sleep. She lay back down, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, everything was still. The soft hum of the apartment building, the occasional sound of a car passing on the street below. But there was something unsettling in the air. Something that made her pulse quicken again, even in the silence. Had she set the alarm wrong? Anna rarely made mistakes like that. Her life was meticulously organized, every part of her day structured for maximum efficiency. She was an early riser by habit, but 3:15 was too early, even for her. After a long day of meetings and deadlines, she'd fallen into bed exhausted, her body eager for rest. She reached for her phone, checking the alarm settings. Everything was as it should be: 6:30 a.m. wake-up. So why had it gone off? As she pondered this, a low thud came from somewhere in the apartment. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but enough to jolt her fully awake. Anna sat up slowly, straining to listen. There it was again. A soft, muted sound, like something heavy being dropped—perhaps in the kitchen. Anna’s breath caught in her throat. She lived alone. No one should be in her apartment. Her rational mind tried to make sense of the situation: maybe it was just the neighbors upstairs. Maybe the sound carried through the walls. But something inside her, an instinct she'd long buried beneath logic and routine, told her otherwise. Quietly, she slipped out of bed, her bare feet padding softly on the hardwood floor. She moved toward the bedroom door, her body tense, ears trained for any more sounds. The apartment was still, save for the slight creaking of the floor beneath her. In the hallway, a faint draft brushed past her face. She paused, her hand resting on the wall for support. It was too cold—much colder than it should be. The window. Someone had opened the window. Anna swallowed hard. She could see it now, the kitchen window at the far end of the hallway, slightly ajar. The curtain fluttered faintly in the breeze. Had she forgotten to close it? No, she was certain she'd locked all the windows before bed. The city wasn't exactly a place where you left your windows open at night. Her stomach tightened with dread as she moved closer to the kitchen. The thudding sound came again, followed by a soft scraping, like someone shifting something across the countertop. She hesitated, a dozen scenarios flashing through her mind, none of them good. She could call the police, but they were unlikely to respond quickly in this part of town. And what if she was wrong? What if it was something harmless, some innocent explanation that would make her feel foolish? No. There was something wrong. Her instincts screamed it now. Steeling herself, Anna grabbed a metal umbrella from the stand by the door. It wasn’t much, but it was heavy enough to swing. Her grip tightened around the handle as she edged into the kitchen. At first glance, everything looked normal. The small, cluttered space was exactly as she’d left it: dishes in the sink, a half-empty cup of coffee on the counter. But as she stepped further inside, her eyes were drawn to something that sent a chill down her spine. The refrigerator door was open—just slightly, like someone had rifled through it and forgotten to close it completely. The thudding noise came again, this time louder, as if whatever was causing it was just out of sight, around the corner. Her breath was shallow, her heart racing in her chest. She had to make a choice—either face whatever was lurking in the shadows or retreat and call for help. She wasn’t sure what propelled her forward, but she found herself stepping toward the refrigerator, the umbrella raised in front of her like a shield. As she rounded the corner, her mind reeled. The floor in front of the refrigerator was wet, small puddles leading away from it as if something—or someone—had been tracking water across the tiles. She followed the trail with her eyes, dreading what she might find. And then she saw it—a figure, hunched low in the corner, near the pantry door. Anna froze. It was too dark to make out any details, but she could see the outline of a man. He was still, unnervingly so, as if he hadn't expected to be found yet. His breathing was shallow, almost silent, but she could hear it now—just barely over the pounding of her own heartbeat. For what felt like an eternity, neither of them moved. Anna’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Who was this man? How had he gotten in? And more importantly—what did he want? Her voice caught in her throat as she tried to speak. "Who are you?" The figure stirred, slowly rising to his feet. He was tall—much taller than she’d anticipated. The dim light from the streetlamp outside barely illuminated his face, but she could make out enough to know he wasn’t someone she recognized. "Don't scream," he said, his voice low and hoarse. "I'm not here to hurt you." Anna’s grip tightened on the umbrella. "Then why are you in my apartment?" The man took a step forward, his hands raised as if to show he wasn’t a threat. "I didn’t mean to—" He paused, glancing over his shoulder toward the open window. "I needed a place to hide. It wasn’t supposed to be like this." "Like what?" His eyes locked onto hers, filled with a strange mixture of fear and desperation. "They’re coming." Anna’s stomach flipped. "Who’s coming?" Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell outside her door. Heavy, deliberate footsteps, growing louder with each passing second. The man’s eyes widened in terror. "It’s too late." Suddenly, the door to her apartment rattled violently, as if someone on the other side was trying to break it down. Anna took a step back, panic rising in her chest. "Please," the man whispered urgently. "You have to let me go. If they find me here, they’ll kill us both." Anna’s mind raced. Whoever was at the door wasn’t friendly—that much was clear. And despite her fear, something in the man’s eyes told her he wasn’t lying. He was just as scared as she was. Without thinking, she nodded toward the window. "Go." The man hesitated for only a moment before bolting toward the window, his movements quick and silent. He slipped through the narrow opening with practiced ease, disappearing into the night just as the door burst open. Two figures stormed into the apartment, dressed in dark clothing, their faces obscured by masks. They barely glanced at Anna before scanning the room, clearly searching for the man who had just fled. One of them stepped forward, a glint of metal visible at his side. "Where is he?" Anna’s throat was dry, her hands trembling. She had to think fast. "He—he went that way." She pointed toward the bathroom door, hoping it would buy her some time. The intruder snarled something to his companion before heading toward the bathroom. They moved quickly, efficiently, checking every corner of the small apartment. Anna backed away slowly, her heart hammering in her chest, praying they wouldn’t turn their attention back to her. After what felt like an eternity, one of them cursed under his breath. "He’s gone." The second man glared at her from behind his mask, his eyes cold and calculating. For a moment, Anna thought he might lash out, take his frustration out on her. But then he turned and followed his partner toward the window, disappearing into the night just as swiftly as they had arrived. Anna stood frozen in the middle of her kitchen, her mind struggling to process what had just happened. The apartment was silent again, save for the faint sound of the window curtain fluttering in the breeze. She was alone. Or so she thought. From the shadows of the living room, a soft voice whispered, "They’ll be back." Anna whirled around, her heart nearly stopping as she saw the man standing in the corner, his face half-hidden in the darkness. "I didn’t leave," he said quietly. "I couldn’t." Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor, the adrenaline finally catching up with her. "What... what do they want?" The man stepped forward, his expression grim. "It’s not what they want. It’s who they work for." Anna’s blood ran cold. "And who is that?" He hesitated, as if the answer would change everything. "The same people who sent me to find you."

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The Unscheduled Wake-Up Call

mustangsally2559

Kimberly Pegram

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The Unscheduled Wake-Up Call

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