His dark possession

The Search begins

Carlos stared at the screen of his late father's Android phone.

Unknown Caller.

He hurriedly grabbed a pen and wrote down the number.

"Who could this be? Why isn't this contact saved?"

Could this have anything to do with his parents' deaths?

Thousands of thoughts ran through Carlos's mind.

Or was he simply trying to force pieces together that didn't belong?

Why did they talk for only five minutes?

Could it have been a business partner? A colleague? A client?

But if the caller was important, why wasn't the number saved?

And why had the accident happened only a few minutes after the call ended?

Carlos leaned back in his chair and stared at the number again.

Something about it felt wrong.

Not the number itself.

The timing.

Maybe it was just a coincidence.

Maybe grief was making him see things that weren't there.

Yet a feeling deep inside him refused to let go.

His fingers tightened around the phone.

Images from the past few days flashed through his mind.

The police officer.

Carlos remembered the strange look on the officer's face when he had asked questions about the accident.

The man had avoided eye contact.

His answers had been short and rushed.

At the time, Carlos had blamed it on stress.

Now he wasn't so sure.

Then there was Aunt Linda.

A few days before the funeral, he had seen her leaving a restaurant with a man he had never met before.

They had been deep in conversation.

The moment she noticed Carlos watching, her smile disappeared.

The conversation ended immediately.

When Carlos later asked who the man was, she answered too quickly.

"Just an old friend."

Yet she refused to say anything more.

Then there was Aunt Madison.

The memory sent a chill down his spine.

The night before the funeral, he had accidentally overheard a conversation between her and Aunt Linda.

The moment they noticed him standing in the hallway, they fell silent.

Madison's face had turned pale.

Not sad.

Not shocked.

Afraid.

As if she knew something she wasn't supposed to know.

Carlos rubbed his forehead.

Maybe Derek was right.

Maybe he was connecting dots that had nothing to do with each other.

But if that was true, why couldn't he shake the feeling that everyone was hiding something?

His eyes drifted back to the unknown number.

For the first time since his parents died, he felt as though he had found an actual clue.

And he wasn't about to ignore it.

"Why are you still awake?"

Derek's voice echoed through the quiet room.

Carlos looked up.

Derek Spears, the son of Linda Spears, was more than family.

He had been Carlos's closest friend since childhood.

Through every birthday, every holiday, every difficult moment, Derek had always been there.

"How are you holding up?" Derek asked.

Carlos laughed bitterly.

"I don't even understand myself anymore."

"I understand. Just try to move on."

"No. It's not that."

"Then what is it? You can tell me."

Carlos hesitated before speaking.

"I found Dad's phone while going through some of his things."

Derek frowned.

"And?"

"A few minutes before they died, somebody called him."

Derek's expression immediately changed.

"Do you have the number?"

"Yeah."

Carlos held up the piece of paper.

"I wrote it down."

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Derek said quietly,

"I think we should call it."

Carlos nodded.

His heartbeat quickened as he picked up his own phone and dialed the number.

The ringing lasted only a second.

Then a robotic voice answered.

"The number you are trying to call is not available at the moment."

"Did they answer?" Derek asked.

Carlos shook his head.

"No."

"Try again."

Carlos dialed again.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

Again.

Still nothing.

His frustration continued to build with every failed attempt.

"Maybe it's disconnected," Derek suggested.

"Damn it!"

Carlos threw the phone onto the bed.

"I think we should get some sleep," Derek said. "Tomorrow we can try again."

"Hell no."

Carlos grabbed the phone once more.

"I'm not stopping now."

Derek sighed.

"Then let's search for the number online."

He walked into the next room and returned with his laptop.

Within seconds they were searching every platform they could think of.

Social media.

Online directories.

Business databases.

Anything.

Minutes passed.

Then suddenly Derek sat upright.

"Wait."

Carlos immediately looked over.

"What?"

"I found something."

Carlos rushed to his side.

"You tracked it?"

"Kind of."

"What do you mean kind of?"

"The number is linked to a company."

Carlos's eyes widened.

"A company?"

"Yeah."

Derek clicked through several pages.

"But there's barely any information."

Carlos leaned closer.

The company's name appeared on the screen.

No photographs.

No contact information.

No detailed history.

Almost nothing.

The entire page looked abandoned.

Before Carlos could say anything, a phone vibrated.

Derek glanced at his screen.

"My mom."

"Go ahead."

Derek stepped away and answered.

Carlos watched him disappear into the hallway.

A strange emptiness settled in his chest.

Mom.

The word echoed painfully inside him.

He once had a mother who called him constantly whenever he spent the night away from home.

She would ask if he had eaten.

If he was warm enough.

If he remembered to lock the doors.

Back then he had found it annoying.

Now he would give anything to hear her voice again.

A few moments later Derek returned.

"She was just checking on us."

Carlos nodded.

But his attention had already returned to the laptop screen.

His thoughts were racing.

The strange police officer.

Aunt Linda's secret meeting.

Madison's fear.

And now this mysterious company connected to the last person who spoke to his father.

No.

This couldn't be a coincidence.

"You might be overthinking this," Derek said.

Carlos shook his head.

"No."

He pointed at the screen.

"Something is wrong."

The page suddenly refreshed.

Both boys frowned.

Neither of them had touched anything.

The company logo disappeared.

"What the—"

The address vanished next.

Then the registration details.

One by one, every piece of information disappeared from the page.

"Derek."

"I see it."

The screen refreshed again.

This time only a blank page remained.

Derek quickly hit the refresh button.

The website is loaded.

For a brief second, the company page appeared again.

Then it vanished completely.

A message appeared in its place.

ERROR 404

PAGE NOT FOUND

The room fell silent.

Carlos felt his stomach twist.

"This can't be happening."

Derek stared at the screen.

"Did somebody just delete it?"

Carlos didn't answer.

Because he was thinking the exact same thing.

Someone knew.

Someone knew they were looking.

The thought sent a chill through him.

Suddenly, a phone vibrated loudly on the desk.

Both boys jumped.

Derek slowly looked down.

An unknown number was calling.

Carlos froze.

His pulse pounded in his ears.

It was the same number.

The same number that had called his father before the accident.

The phone continued vibrating.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Neither of them moved.

"Answer it," Carlos whispered.

Derek swallowed hard.

His hand trembled as he pressed the answer button and lifted the phone to his ear.

For several seconds there was only silence.

Then a distorted voice spoke.

"You should have stopped looking."

The call ended.

Derek's face turned pale.

The phone slipped from his hand and hit the floor.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

Carlos stared at the dark screen.

His heart hammered against his chest.

Whoever was behind this knew exactly who they were.

And they were watching.