The Reaper's Death Call: Flirting with the Monster

The midnight phone rang, shattering the dead silence of the horror game. The Reaper’s voice bled through the speaker. "This is a death call. Whoever answers is cursed.

No one makes it out of here alive." The other players huddled in the corners, their teeth chattering.

While everyone else spent their days sweating and frantically hunting for escape clues, I waited until two in the morning and dialed the Reaper's number myself. "You up?" I asked into the receiver. "Come out for a sec.

I want to sit on those legs of yours—the ones that are literally longer than my lifespan." A cold scoff echoed through the line. "You have a death wish." Fast forward to later.

The heat rushed to my cheeks. I pressed my palms flat against his chest, shaking my head. "No more." He simply locked his arms around my waist, caging me against his body.

His breath brushed the shell of my ear, his voice dropping into a rough, dark scrape. "Be a good girl." His fingers traced the line of my jaw. "My tentacles are pretty cute, too.

Let me show you how to play with them." Chapter 1 [ Welcome, players, to the instance: Death Call. Objective: Evade the vengeful spirits and successfully exit the instance.

Difficulty Level: SS. The instance is about to begin. Please prepare yourselves— ] The cold electronic voice faded.

A sharp, frantic ringing immediately pierced the stifling air of the living room. "What is that?" A woman in a designer dress jolted at the sound.

She whipped her head around, her eyes wide and panicked. "Where am I? How did I get here?!" The rest of us exchanged surprised looks.

A complete newbie had been dropped into an SSlevel instance. I pulled my brows together. Wayne had been right.

The topranked players were finally making their organized move against the horror bosses. And because of that massive disruption, the system's order was glitching.

Dropping a levelzero player straight into an SSlevel nightmare was proof enough. A tight knot formed in my chest. Kade.

I knew the ultimate boss of the horror realm couldn't be taken down easily. But fighting off that many toptier players at once had to be taking a massive toll on him.

The phone kept screaming. There were only seven of us in this run.

One of the veteran players stepped up, trying to quickly explain the rules of the horror game to the panicked woman. She wasn't having it. "What 'horror game'?

This is just an escape room, right?

I'm not playing!" "I don't know how you drugged me or dragged me here, but I'm suing this place the second I get out!" She stomped toward the center of the living room.

A vintage rotary phone sat on a small table. It was bloodred. Obviously it was a death trap. "Wait!" Someone lunged to grab her arm, but their fingers grasped empty air.

She snatched the receiver off the hook. The frantic ringing snapped off. Dead silence flooded the room. The line was dead.

The woman swallowed hard, but she kept her chin tipped up. "What is this, some kind of immersive theater crap? I want to see your manager!

Get him out here right now and explain why I'm in this dump!" Bzzzt— A low burst of static crackled through the earpiece. Then, the heavy, rhythmic sound of breathing.

The woman’s shoulders dropped a fraction. But the breathing morphed. It grew louder, wetter, twisting into a ragged, desperate choke. "Help! Please, help me!

I'm sorry, let me go, ahhh—" The screams bleeding from the speaker were raw with terror. It sounded like someone being violently dragged across the floor by something monstrous.

Wait. The woman’s knees buckled. She hit the floor hard. It was her voice coming from the phone. The blood drained from every veteran player's face. The phone started ringing again.

No one moved a muscle. The shrill rings stacked on top of each other, hammering against our eardrums, syncing with the frantic pounding in our chests.

Five excruciating minutes dragged by. "Fuck this." A guy in a white tank top with a buzz cut finally snapped. He marched over and ripped the receiver off the cradle.

Bzzzt— The same static buzzed into the dead air.

This time, there were no bloody screams. "Welcome, guests from afar." It was a man’s voice—low, gravelly, and freezing cold. "Find the keys to your respective rooms before nightfall.

Lock yourselves in. Good luck surviving until the next time I call." The line clicked dead. The players scattered instantly, tearing the room apart in a desperate hunt for keys.

Even the newbie scrambled off the floor, trembling as she searched the corners. Everyone except me.

I walked over to the table, picked up the bloodred receiver, and held it to my ear. Chapter 2 I pressed the receiver to my ear. "Hello?

Still there?" A burst of static scratched against the earpiece. "What do you want?" Even the garbage audio quality of the vintage receiver couldn't mask the deep, resonant gravel of his baritone.

Sure, it was dripping with enough murderous intent to freeze a room, but it was still a great voice. I leaned my hip against the table. "The AC in the living room is blasting.

I'm on my period. Any chance you could bump the thermostat up a few degrees?" Silence. Beep. Beep.

The vent above us rattled as the airflow shifted, the temperature noticeably ticking up.

The players closest to the vent flinched, treating the sound like a poltergeist manifestation. They tore through the furniture with twice the panic.

The corner of my mouth tipped up. "Since we're doing favors… want to slip me the location of my key? I promise I won't tell the others." The line went dead quiet for a few seconds.

He probably hadn't dealt with someone this utterly devoid of a survival instinct before.

When he spoke again, the words were a slow, icy scrape. "You have five minutes." I smiled into the receiver. "Are you worried about me? Giving me a time warning and everything.

You're too sweet." Another beat of heavy silence. "In five minutes, if you don't have a key," he warned, his voice dropping into a lethal register, "I will personally tear you apart." Click.

The dial tone hummed in my ear. I lowered the phone, letting out a soft exhale. That was Kade.

The ultimate boss of the horror realm, my boyfriend, and a guy whose voice I could pick out of a hurricane. I'd never mistake him.

Though, looking at the current setup, his temper in this instance was running a little hot. I ran my fingers under the base of the rotary phone. My nail caught on a ridge.

I popped the hidden compartment open and pulled out a brass key. The most dangerous place is usually the safest. Kade had told me that himself. I knew his habits inside and out.

No matter what he tried to hide, I could almost always pinpoint his logic. The phone call had just been an excuse to mess with him, to test the waters and check his status.

It wasn't as bad as I'd feared. At the very least, his avatar in this specific instance was functioning normally. Some of the tension bled out of my shoulders.

The only downside was that, true to form for these resets, he had absolutely zero memory of me. And he was so damn easy to rile up.

A phantom draft swept past the back of my neck, raising the fine hairs there.

I ignored the chill, flipping the brass key between my fingers as I walked down the hall to find the matching room number. Right on cue.

The deafening shriek of the telephone shattered the quiet. The overhead lights in the living room flickered, bleeding into a harsh, saturated red.

The air pressure plummeted, pressing down like a physical weight against our lungs.

The remaining players scrambled, clutching their newly found keys and diving for their respective doors. Only the newbie was left emptyhanded. I was the closest to her.

When the deadbolt on my door clicked open, her eyes locked onto me like I was a life raft. She lunged in my direction. I stepped over the threshold.

Before I could even turn, the heavy door slammed shut on its own, cutting her off. Fists hammered frantically against the wood. "Open the door! Let me in!

I don't want to die, please, open the goddamn door!" I grabbed the brass knob and twisted. Locked solid. The mechanism wouldn't budge an inch.

It looked like the game strictly enforced a onepersonperroom rule. The woman’s voice escalated into a raw, tearing shriek.

Whatever she was looking at in that hallway, it broke her mind. Her palms smacked wildly against the door frame.

The center of the door was fitted with a thick panel of frosted glass. It blurred the hallway, but it couldn't hide the silhouettes.

I stood there, watching as a massive, inky mass slithered into view.

It engulfed her thrashing silhouette, swallowing her whole, piece by piece, until her screams choked off completely. Then, dead silence.

The kind of suffocating quiet that made your ears ring. I turned my back to the door and scanned the room. It was painfully ordinary. Standard bed, standard dresser.

The only thing screaming for attention was sitting directly on the nightstand. Another bloodred rotary phone. They put one in the bedrooms, too.

I walked over, lifted the receiver, and dialed the number again. Dead air greeted me.

I leaned my elbow on the nightstand. "If you're ignoring me, make a static noise." Three seconds passed. Bzzzt. Chapter 3 … He was really giving me the silent treatment.

I figured I shouldn't push my luck on the very first day.

I leaned into the receiver and whispered a sugary "Goodnight," then pulled the duvet over my head and drifted off, feeling perfectly safe.

The phone shrieked in the middle of the night, dragging me out of a deep sleep.

Assuming Kade was doing this on purpose just to mess with my rest, I didn't bother hiding my irritation. "I’m sleeping. Business hours start tomorrow.

You get me?" The person on the other end seemed stunned by my attitude.

After a few seconds of silence, a strange woman’s voice crackled through the line. "My baby is missing… have you seen my baby?" I let out a long, jagged yawn. "Yeah, I saw her." "Where?" the voice hissed. "In my dreams.

Go to sleep and you’ll see her too." … I was about to shut my eyes again when the air in the room took an icy plunge. The temperature dropped so fast my breath hitched.

The voice on the phone grew louder, distorted, as if she were trying to crawl through the receiver and into the room with me. "My baby is missing… have you seen my baby?" She kept chanting it, a broken record of grief and malice.

Fine. I guess I had to play along. I shifted my tone, softening it just enough to be patronizing. "Look, lady, can this wait until morning? Your kid needs her sleep.

Do you have any idea how important sleep is for a growing child?" "Let her stay hidden and get some rest. Tomorrow, I promise I'll find her for you.

I’ll even help you discipline her when we do." The woman went quiet. "I guess… that makes sense…" "Glad we're on the same page." I slammed the receiver down without a second thought.

When I finally fell back asleep, I dreamt of something cold and slick coiling around my body. It felt like silk made of ice. In my halfsleep, I leaned down and bit it.

The thing shivered beneath my teeth. It started to soften, yielding to my touch. I reached out, my fingers sinking into the strange, cool mass, kneading it into different shapes.

The more I squeezed, the more the chill began to bleed into a searing, pulsepounding heat.

By the second half of the night, I’d kicked my blankets to the floor, curled up tight around that warm, invisible weight. I woke up the next morning lying perfectly straight.

The duvet was tucked neatly around my shoulders, pinned under my chin. I had a habit of kicking the covers off in my sleep.

Back when we were together, Kade was always the one who would wake up in the dead of night just to tuck me back in.

I smiled, picked up the red phone, and whispered a "Good morning" to the silence. The person who had called me at midnight turned out to be the tenant from the floor above.

She was a hollowedout woman with skin the color of curdled milk. Her eyes were fixed on me, unblinking. "My baby is gone," she rasped. "She loves to run around.

You have to find her." I did a sweep of her apartment. I checked under the bed, inside the wardrobe, behind the shower curtain, and even poked around the fridge. Nothing.

I lifted the lid of a heavy pot on the stove. Empty. "Lady, could you stop staring at me?

You're making it look like I'm the one who stole your kid." The woman’s pupils rolled in her sockets.

Her voice was a dry scrape. "If you don't find my baby, I'll turn you into a snack for her." I arched a brow. "The kid is missing, remember?

If I'm a snack, who's going to eat me?" She froze, her dead eyes blinking at the logic.

I rubbed my chin, looking her up and down. "Actually, I think I know where she is." Hope flared in her dead eyes. "Where?" I stepped toward her, leaned down, and rapped my knuckles against her distended stomach. "Open up, sweetie," I said. "I found you." The woman’s belly lurched.

It began to bloat, stretching the skin until it was translucent. A jagged tear ripped through the center of her abdomen.

A small, pale hand—slick with fresh blood—shot out of the opening, clawing at the air. I’d already stepped back. The bloody fingers snapped shut on empty air, missing me by inches.

Slowly, a little girl about five or six years old—Maisie—crawled out of the woman’s womb, dripping in crimson.

Chapter 4 "Damn it!" The little girl stomped her bloody foot. "I was playing hideandseek with my mom!

Why did you have to find me?!" I blinked, the picture of innocence. "Do you have any idea how worried your mom was?

She's been looking all night for you." The woman’s dead eyes snapped into focus. She hoisted Maisie up by the arm, her rotting face twisting into a scowl. "Maisie.

Didn't I tell you how worried I get when I can't find you?" Maisie shrank back. "Mommy, don't be mad.

I just wanted to play…" I crossed my arms, adding fuel to the fire with a smirk. "Your mom was out of her mind with worry, and you just hid there?

That's really inconsiderate, sweetie." The mother's expression darkened further. She turned her hollow gaze back to me. "Thank you for finding my child.

I need to discipline her now." "I won't see you to the door." Maisie shot me a look of pure, venomous hatred. I just waved. "Don't mention it. Brats need boundaries.

I'll let myself out." I stepped out into the hall.

A second later, Maisie's wails echoed through the heavy door. "Mommy, I'm sorry!" Followed immediately by: "You awful eavesdropping witch out there! I'm going to get you!" Wow.

Looks like I just made an enemy out of a murderous gothic little girl. I leaned close to the doorframe. "Just a headsup, Mom!

You gotta repeat the lesson a few times, or it doesn't stick!" Night two rolled around fast. I sat on the edge of the bed, studying the creepy red rotary phone.

And then, completely by accident… I took it apart. I stared at the handful of unrecognizable springs and gears in my palm. My eye twitched. The phone was busted.

How was I supposed to take the death calls now? I tried to jam the pieces back together, working purely off vibes.

Three minutes later, the thing looked less like a telephone and more like a mechanical bird's nest. My DIY skills were truly a curse. Then, the damn thing rang.

I jumped, staring at the mangled mess of plastic and wire. Right. The horror realm didn't exactly run on the laws of physics.

I picked up the twisted receiver. "Do you have too much free time?" The voice on the other end was a gust of crypt air, bleeding through the plastic and brushing straight against the back of my neck.

I tugged at my collar. "I was bored. I tried calling you, but you ghosted me." A dark scoff echoed down the line. "This is a death call.

You're the first person in history to willingly dial the Grim Reaper." "Oh, you're the Reaper?" "Afraid?" "Can you come out for a sec? I really want to sit on those legs of yours.

You know, the ones that are literally longer than my lifespan." Dead silence. "The second I step out of here," he rasped, "you're dead." I could practically hear his jaw ticking through the phone.

Ah. I got it. It seemed the ultimate boss of this particular instance was restricted. He couldn't physically manifest this early in the game.

I rested my chin in my hand. "Let's edate, then." "…What?" "You came by my room last night, didn't you?

Tucked me in and everything." I traced a crack on the nightstand. "Though, next time, could you not cross my hands over my chest?" "I woke up feeling like I was in a coffin, or prepping for some dark ritual." No answer. "Hey," I murmured, "can you pop out those tentacles of yours so I can play with—I mean, look at them?" Nothing but static. "Why the silent treatment?

Let me hear you pant." "You have a death wish," the Reaper scraped out. The corner of my mouth tipped up. It had been way too long since I’d seen Kade this raw and easily provoked.

It took me back to the early days, right after I’d first dragged him home. I used to poke at him exactly like this. But after we’d been together for a while, the dynamic shifted.

He got clingy. If I tried to tease him now, he’d just pin me to the mattress and give it right back until I couldn't breathe. Chapter 5 "Let's not have kids," I said.

The Reaper: "?" The topic shifted so drastically that even the Reaper went quiet for a few seconds.

When he finally spoke, his gravelly voice clipped a little. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?" "Kids are too much of a handful," I continued. "I just want more oneonone time with you.

Like right now." He ignored me. The bedroom light violently snapped off, plunging the room into pitch blackness. A notsosubtle hint to go to sleep.

I smiled into the dark, lazily letting my eyes drift shut. Flirting with the Grim Reaper and surviving without a scratch.

It seemed that even with his memory wiped, Kade still had a soft spot for his girlfriend. At 7:00 AM, the phone shrieked again.

This time, an old man’s raspy wheeze came through the receiver. He claimed his legs were bad and asked if I could come over and help change a lightbulb. I went.

And quickly realized this wasn't a standard maintenance request. Who uses an actual, squishy eyeball as a lightbulb? An eyeball that could sprint, no less.

The damn thing bounced frantically across the floorboards. I had to chase it down and slam a metal washbasin over it just to trap it.

The old man split his face into a wide, gummy grin, showing off a mostly toothless mouth. "Just pop it up there, girly.

The light will come right on." I stepped up onto a wooden stool and jammed the squishy orb into the socket. The second it clicked into place, the dim room went pitchblack.

Dead, suffocating dark. A wet, triumphant cackle echoed from the floor below me.

Bony fingers clamped around my ankle like a vice. "It's been so long since I've tasted a fresh young thing," the old man wheezed. "Can't break the rules during the day, but I just couldn't wait.

Had to make a little dark of my own." I heard the thick, wet sound of him swallowing his saliva. A bloodcurdling scream ripped from his throat.

The old man’s voice violently pitched up into a frantic, trembling sob. "I was wrong! I'm sorry!

I'm just a confused old fool, I won't do it again… please, don't be angry!" The vice grip on my ankle vanished.

At the same exact moment, something slick and freezing cold brushed against my bare skin. Goosebumps erupted all the way up my calf. The old man’s whimpering cut off completely.

The room remained swallowed in absolute, impenetrable darkness. Total silence rushed into my ears. It felt like I'd been dropped into a bottomless void.

Well, it would have, if I ignored the heavy, icy tentacles currently slithering their way up my body. "Thought you were so capable." The low, freezing scrape of his voice brushed directly against the shell of my ear.

Instead of flinching, I wrapped both arms around the thickest, coldest tentacle and hugged it to my chest. "It's been way too long since I got my hands on these.

I actually missed them!" The hostile, coiled muscle physically flinched the second I squeezed it. The freezing slickness began to bleed away, replaced by a rapid, building heat.

The tentacle tried to writhe out of my grasp, sliding backward, but I locked my fingers around it. "Don't run away." His voice dropped an octave, scraping like rusted metal. "What the hell are you doing?" I didn't care about the lethal edge in his tone.

I dragged my thumb slowly over the smooth, heated surface of the appendage. "Something you like." A dark, muffled groan vibrated through the pitchblack room.

The tentacle scorched my palms, the very tip curling backward against my skin. The sharp hitch in his breath gave him away completely. He was biting back the reaction.

The suffocating darkness didn't feel like a void anymore, not with this solid, burning weight trapped in my arms.

I traced the smooth surface of the limb. "You're stuck in this kind of dark all the time, aren't you? You can't leave." No answer.

I tried to twist my shoulders to face him, to reach for the solid chest I knew was right behind me, but my muscles locked up. Something invisible pinned me in place.

His breathing fractured the quiet again. "You care too much." The words were dipped in ice, but the sharp intake of air betrayed the sudden, defensive shift in his posture. "Do you really think I won't kill you?" Another cold, heavy tentacle slithered around the column of my throat.

It slowly began to constrict. The temperature in the room plummeted, the air itself thinning out until every breath burned my lungs. Chapter 6