“Technology is your friend!”
That was the phrase I’d had almost ceremoniously drilled into my head from a rather young age. As someone who was born in the early 90s, I was alive to witness the world take the jump into the digital age following the turn of the millennium. I grew up watching the old technology of the 20th Century, everything from analog television, to copper phone lines get phased out and replaced, all the while hearing that the new versions were better, more efficient. And safer.
And for a while, I actually believed it. I wasn’t what you would call a stickler for old tech. I moved with the times, adopting new technology as it came along, everything from broadband internet, to smartphones, to smart TVs and cars with self driving capabilities. I was excited about it all as well; hearing about a new leap in progress always excited me greatly, as it meant a step closer to the future I’d seen in cartoons as a kid such as The Jetsons.
That all changed last year.
It started small enough. I’d be standing or sitting somewhere, scrolling through social media on my phone, when it would glitch up and freeze on me. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and I had good antivirus software installed on it, so the fact that a less than two year old phone was going on the fritz annoyed me to no end. “Friggin’ piece of crap!” I hissed through gritted teeth as I sat at my desk during a particularly slow shift at work as my phone once again froze, then went black as it shut itself off and rebooted. Vivien, my coworker who sat in the cubicle across from me looked over with mild interest. “Everything all right, Jared?” she asked. I shook my head. “This stupid thing did it again to me!” I exclaimed, quietly, so my boss wouldn’t hear I wasn’t working; even on slow shifts, he insisted we keep going to, as he put it, “Prevent paying you to just sit on your lazy asses like you’re back in school”
She shrugged. “Have you taken it to a repair shop to try and have the problem diagnosed?” I sighed and rolled my eyes slightly. “You know I have, Viv. Three times, and each one said that my phone was running perfectly” I said. I saw her scrunch up her face and raise a hand to play with her blonde hair. “Well, why not just toss it and get a new one?” she asked. I scoffed. “Vivien, I’ve worked here for four years. You ought to know by now I’m not into that whole disposable, throw something away as soon as it breaks or goes wonky culture” She shrugged again. “Suit yourself” she said, “But it would be a hell of a lot easier for you to just get a new one” I shook my head and turned back to my computer, placing the now rebooted phone screen down on the desk. I may have been someone who moved with the times in terms of tech, but I didn’t like wasting money just to get rid of something after less than two or three years. I already got annoyed when people just bought or leased a car for a year, which ran perfectly fine, before hocking it and getting a single model year newer iteration twelve months later.
When I got home that night, I hooked my phone up to my laptop, running my own diagnostic software on it. Just like with the repair men, it reported that the phone was in tip top shape, with no viruses or malware detected. Maybe Vivien is right, I thought as I climbed into bed. Maybe, just this once, I should take the L and get a new phone. As I stared at my ceiling fan lazily spinning the abnormally warm spring air around my room, I heard my phone let out a soft ding, indicating that I’d received a text message. Rolling over, I picked it up off the table next to the bed and clicked the screen on. Who the hell is texting me this late? As the screen flashed to life, causing me to wince and close my eyes from the glare, it let out another little ding. I opened my eyes and let them slowly adjust to the light. As soon as the screen came into focus, I saw that I did indeed have two texts waiting for me. But, I felt nothing but puzzlement wash over me like a wave.
For one, there was no phone number shown above the message notifications themselves. It didn’t even say it was an unknown number; the area was simply blank, something I’d never seen before. Stranger still, was the fact that both text messages comprised of nothing more than single letters. The first was the letter W, and the second E. We?, I wondered. I waited to see if anymore messages would come in, but none did, the phone screen eventually flicking to black from inactivity. I sighed and placed it back on the nightstand, then rolled over onto my side. Great, now it’s messing up so badly its glitching single character text messages. I let out a long sigh, making a mental note to take the phone back to the repair guy at my local mall next week when he got back from vacation. If anyone would know what was causing that, it’d be him. I thought one final time about the glitch, then let out a soft, sleepy laugh in the dark room. “Whee” I muttered as I finally drifted off into a restful sleep.
The next day went by normally until lunch time. I was sitting in my building’s cafeteria, eating a cold turkey and cheese sandwich with Vivien and my other office buddy, Davyn, when my phone went off, three times in a row this time. I picked it up, seeing that I’d received three text messages, all with the same send time of 12:48. Again, they were only single letters, this time A, R, and E. “Oh, what the flip?” I groaned, dropping it back onto the table. “What’s up?” Davyn asked through a large mouthful of potato salad. Vivien shot a glance at my phone. “Again?” she asked. I shook my head. “No, it started doing something completely new last night. Single letter text messages from nobody. Two last night, and three now” Davyn looked over at the phone with mock fright, swallowing his food. “Oooh, it’s the ghost in the machine!” he let out in a poor imitation of a creepy voice, raising his arms as though he were a stereotypical ghost with a sheet over his head.
“Very funny, smartass” I muttered, letting half of my mouth curl up in a smile at his stupid joke as I reached for my bottle of water. “Hey, at least I don’t have a big ass” he quipped back, and this time, the entire table laughed. “Seriously, though” he continued, “It’s probably like Vivien said, just a defective phone. Just junk it and get a new one” I slowly nodded my head. “I’ve been beginning to lean towards it, but. I don’t know, something just doesn’t sit right with me” I motioned towards it. “I’ve had that thing for a year and, what? Seven months? And it’s never done this to me before” Both my coworkers shrugged. “That happens, sometimes” Vivien offered. I couldn’t help but nod; she was much more versed on technology than I was. “Out of sheer curiosity, did the letters spell anything out?” she asked. It was my turn to shrug. “Well, the first two letters were W and E. These were A, R, and E. So, I guess it spelled out We Are” The two of them shared a look. “What?” I asked. They didn’t say anything, still looking at each other. “What?” I demanded a little harder, feeling a small sense of worry come over me. “Well…” Vivien began. “Well, what?!” I exclaimed.
All at once, both of them shot each other grins and began singing in unison. “We Are, We Are, We Are, Who we are!” As they finished, I realized what they’d done as they fell into peels of laughter. “Really?” I said, letting out a scoff. “You start singing that crappy, annoying pop song from a few years ago?” They looked at me and both nodded, then began laughing again. I shook my head and smirked at the stupidity of it all, slipping my phone into my pocket and standing up from the table to dump my trash into the bin. Those two could find a way to joke about the beheading of Queen Anne. I felt my phone begin to buzz continuously in my pocket, but chose to ignore it. I’d see whatever dumb letters were on it when I got home in a few hours. For the moment, I put the whole thing out of my mind and walked back to the elevator to my cubicle.
That evening, as I was driving home, I decided, instead of cooking something myself, to stop by someplace and grab something quick to eat. I felt massively tired from the workload that had been heaped on my shoulders, and had no energy to make anything. I settled on the first place I came across, which happened to be a Subway. As I stood in line watching the teenager behind the counter make my sandwich, I decided to pass the time by quickly looking at the dumb messages I’d gotten earlier. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I clicked the screen on. “Sir, would you like it toasted?” the kid asked me, momentarily distracting me. I looked up quickly. “Yeah, please” I said, then looked down at my phone again. There had been eight messages in a row this time, too many to see on the lock screen. I flicked my thumb across the screen and tapped on the message icon, bringing up my texting app. Just like before, they’d all come from no number. I shook my head, tapping on the message to open it up. And then I froze.
It felt like my feet had become rooted to the well cleaned tile floor beneath me. The room suddenly felt as though it were far too warm, and I felt my head begin to spin like I would faint. My heart began to pound in my chest as I read and re-read the eight messages. W. A. T. C. H. I. N. G. What the actual hell? I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I scrolled back up to the previous messages, then slowly began to scroll down. As I did, the message that each individual letter spelled out sent a shiver up my spine. We Are Watching. I swallowed, hard, suddenly overcome with the feeling I had eyes on me. I slowly turned and looked behind me. There were three other people in the shop, what looked like a couple in their early twenties, and a fat, balding middle aged man alone at a corner booth. None of them had phones visible anywhere near them, and no one cast a glance my way. Still, the feeling of being observed remained.
“Uh, sir?” I heard a voice softly speak behind me. I turned, still feeling in a daze to see the kid staring at me, his eyes filled with concern, and a hint of annoyance. He held my toasted sandwich on the sliding railing in front of him, waiting for me to tell him what toppings to add. I shook my head, not wanting my expression to betray the unwilling feeling of paranoia which had overtaken me. “Oh, um, sorry about that!” I stammered, then quickly telling him what I wanted. I paid for my sandwich, drink and chips and stumbled to my car. Opening the door and dropping into the seat, I dropped the bag of food onto the passenger seat, then yanked the phone out of my pocket. I almost instinctively hurled it away from me, into the passenger footwell as though it were a venomous snake. What the hell is going on? I thought as I sat there, hearing the pitter patter of rain begin to drum on the roof. That…that couldn’t have been a glitch….could it? I honestly didn’t know. All I did know was that I suddenly felt beyond uncomfortable, not to mention thoroughly creeped out. I reached out and pushed the start button, feeling the Cadillac vibrate beneath me as the V8 rumbled to life.
I began to debate what to do as I put the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot. If I wanted to, I could take the phone to another repair shop, one that was still open, and tell them about what had happened. But no, they likely wouldn’t find anything wrong again. I could also try taking the phone to the police. Again, no, I thought miserably as the realization came over me. They wouldn’t be able to do anything since there’s no number attached to the messages. I sighed as I came to a red light, staring out past the rapidly flicking windshield wipers. I could just go get a new phone in the morning. I’ve got all my contacts in a physical address book at home for backup. Just..could stop by Verizon tomorrow, tell them I need a new phone due to unforeseen circumstances. This one is still under warranty, anyways.
As I debated, I suddenly felt a chill slash through me as a familiar, now sinister seeming sound emanated from the passenger footwell. Ding. Twisting my neck as though it were on a swivel, I saw the bright white light from the screen glowing up from the floor. The light turned green, and I stomped on the accelerator, the rear tires breaking loose for a moment, then shooting the car forward. As soon as I was through the intersection, I yanked the car over to the side of the road, almost curbing the wheels. Jamming it into park, I tore my seatbelt loose and snatched the phone from its resting place. The first thing I noticed was, that at the top of the screen, the Bluetooth symbol, something which I very rarely, if ever used, was now visible, indicating it had been turned on. This brought back the paranoia which had begun to subside, but it wasn’t what sent it into overdrive.
That was due to the two notifications which appeared on the lock screen. The first was one which indicated that another device had been wirelessly with mine. The area where it would show the device’s name was filled with nothing but hashtags and star symbols. The second was what made begin to hyperventilate. #*#*#*####* has asked for camera privileges. Almost on cue, the flashlight which also functioned as the camera’s flash flicked on, almost blinding me with it. That decided it for me. I let out a strangled cry of panic, fumbling around in the cabin as my hand clawed for the driver’s door handle. After a moment of sheer panic, my fingers found the metal godsend, and I yanked it back as hard as I could, kicking the door open and stumbling out into the pouring rain.
I raised the phone as high over my head as I could, and threw it towards the ground with all the strength I had. It crashed facing up at me, the impact letting out a huge cracking sound as the plastic backing exploded. But I wasn’t finished. Raising my right foot, I began to bring it down on the phone as I hard as I could, stomping repeatedly as though it were an actual attacker I’d encountered in my house. I lost track of how many time I brought my foot down on the damned thing. I feel like I must’ve lost control of myself for a moment, because when I came to my senses, I was completely soaked to the bone, and the phone was nothing more than a broken pile of plastic, glass and exposed wiring. Breathing heavily, I looked up to see a homeless man who’d taken shelter under the awning of a donut shop staring quizzically at me. Realizing how I’d looked, I dropped back into my car, the seat letting out a squelch from my soaked clothes. I pulled the door closed, allowing my breathing to slow to normal. I swallowed, then realizing my throat was dry, reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle of Coke I’d bought with my sandwich.
I twisted the cap off and took a long swig, the cold, stinging soda quenching my thirst. I capped the bottle and placed it into the cup holder, resting my head back into the headrest. Its okay, Jared. You’re okay. Whatever that was, the phone’s broken now. It’s over. I repeated the thoughts over and over to myself like a mantra. When I began to feel a little better, I put the car back in drive, and pulled away from the curb. As I drove away, I glanced in my rear view mirror for some odd reason. I don’t know why I did, but something had told me to look. I couldn’t make out much in the dark and downpour. But, I swear I thought I could see the faint outline of somebody, standing on the curb near where I’d been parked. They stood absolutely still, and though I couldn’t tell which way they were looking, I could almost swear they were staring after me. It made me drive home just a little bit faster.
The next morning, I returned to the Verizon store, telling the woman behind the customer service desk that I’d had an accident and had broken my phone. She was gracious enough, a smile adorning her face as she told me that I was eligible for a replacement phone under both my warranty, and my contract, and gestured for me to pick out whichever one I wanted from the display section behind us. I didn’t really pay much close attention as I browsed, quickly selecting a random one from the lineup. After a few moments, she brought the phone and box out to me. “Okay, sir, now there’s just one final thing I need to check with you” She looked up at me. “I assume you’d like to keep the same phone number we assigned to your old phone?” At her words, I felt a surge of panic course through me. “No!” I accidentally yelled out, causing her to jump. “I’m-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell that out” I said, feeling embarrassed about the outburst. “I just meant, if it’d be okay, if I could just have a new number, please” The woman gave me a sideways look, then plastered her working smile back on her face. “Of course, sir, we can absolutely do that for you!”
When I got back home after work that evening, I quickly entered in all my contacts into my new phone, then dropped it on my coffee table and walked to my entertainment center. A good movie will help take my mind off that, honestly, rather scary experience, I thought. Opening the doors, I reached in and pulled out one of my favorite movies, a British Crime Drama from 1956 called Yield to the Night. Placing the Blu-Ray disc in the machine, I dropped onto the couch and let my mind drift away into the movie. For the next hour and forty minutes, the world around me fell away, and I immersed myself in the story of the main character, who’d murdered the lover of her lover and had been sentenced to death for it.
When the film ended, I stood up and stretched my arms over my head, a yawn escaping my lips. I shut the TV off, then walked towards my bedroom. For a moment, I stopped and looked down at the new phone, wondering if I should bring it into the bedroom with me. But I shook my head and left it where it was, wandering into the bedroom and dropping onto it after pulling off my clothes. I tossed and turned, the movie now beginning to fall away from my mind, and the last few days returning. I tried to banish them away, the same way a nightlight would shoo away a child’s imaginary monster, but no matter how hard I tried, the image of those messages spelling out the three words remained in my mind. And don’t forget that figure you saw that night. I groaned at myself from remembering that. More than likely, it had just been a passerby, someone interested in the odd looking fellow stomping on his phone in the middle of a driving rainstorm like a madman. I tried to repeat that idea to myself. Soon, though, I drifted off into a rather uneasy sleep, one filled with terrifying dreams of the dark figure walking through the pouring rain towards my house.
The next day, my office had a huge meeting with one of the members of the board, to discuss a big acquisition we’d be dealing with over the next few weeks. I sat in my cubicle, waiting to be called in to the huge conference room, when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. The sensation made me jump, letting out a small gasp of air. Behind me, though, I heard Vivien laugh. I turned to look at her, finding her smiling wide at me. “I just sent you the funniest damn video I’ve ever seen before!” she exclaimed, pointing at her own phone. I relaxed my shoulders, letting out a relieved sigh. “Oh, cool!” I said, beginning to reach into my pocket for it. That’s when the announcement went out over the speakers. “Will all employees on the third floor offices, please report to the conference room?”
I slid my fingers through my hair and looked at Vivien. “Well, that’s us” I said, standing up. She nodded, then following me, we joined the throng of others walking down the hallway to the meeting. The room was massive, with the giant mahogany table taking up the majority of the space in the room. There was enough room for at least thirty or forty people to sit at once, and we all dropped into whatever seats we wanted. A moment later, the board member entered the room, greeting us and moving over to a slide projector. For the next ten minutes, he spoke, droning on and on about our responsibilities. I was beginning to feel as though I would nod off, when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I ignored it, knowing the head honcho behind us didn’t like us looking away from his presentations. However, I felt it begin to vibrate incessantly, the sensation almost feeling like a bee had become trapped in my pocket. Vivien, this better not be you, I thought exasperatedly as I tried as hard as I could to fish the phone out of my pocket without being noticed. I’d turned the brightness down earlier, so it wouldn’t be easy to spot. Placing the phone under the edge of the table, I clicked open the phone screen and looked down.
The sounds of the conference room and the words of the board member disappeared into the ether as I stared at the screen. My pulse began to quicken, and I felt my heart begin to thud hard and fast in my chest, almost to the point it was painful. My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I thought I would simply pass out, right here and now. There were twenty-one text messages waiting for me according to the lock screen. All of them coming, from no number. Feeling a rising wave of panic envelop me, I frantically flicked open the screen and clicked open the message app. I already dreaded what I would see. But, I still wasn’t prepared for the amount of terror and dread I felt as I scrolled through each individual message, again containing only a single letter. This time, though, they spelled out a message, while similar to the first, far worse.
We Are Watching You Jared. As I stared at the screen, two thoughts zapped through my mind. How the fuck did they get my new number? Oh…oh, god, they know my name…. This second one was what made me feel like I wanted to throw up. Whoever was sending the texts, not only had gotten my new number, they knew my freaking name. Fighting back the rising wave of bile in my throat, I stood to my feet. “Something the matter, Wexler?” the board member asked me. I felt the eyes of everyone turn to me; in the far corner, I saw Vivien giving me a weird look. I forced a pathetic squeak of a voice out from my lips. “I…um, I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go” And before anyone could stop me or say anything, I stumbled on shaky legs from the conference room. I didn’t go to the bathroom, though. I went straight to my desk, grabbing the key fob to my car and my jacket before taking the elevator down to the lobby.
I practically dashed for the parking lot, crashing into a heap in the driver’s seat after wrenching the door open. “Okay, to hell with this, I’m going to the cops” I said to myself. Starting the engine, I pulled out of the parking lot and did just that. I went straight to the closest precinct, barging through the doors to the desk sergeant on duty. I sputtered out what I’d dealt with for the last few days, and after a few attempts to be understood, he guided me back to where a detective took my statement. After I’d finished, he leaned back in his chair, interlacing his fingers behind his head. “Well, as much as I admit that is both an odd and eerie thing to happen, Mr. Wexler, there’s not really much I can do. Since you don’t know who’s sending you these messages, and don’t have a number, I can’t do much except tell you to contact us again if you receive them” I sighed dejectedly, my head drooping down to look at the floor.
He spoke softly, more kindly. “I wish there was more I could do” I looked up to see him lean forward. “If I may, can I ask to see your phone?” he asked. I fished it out of my pocket, handing it to him. “Sure. Can I ask why?” He glanced up as he pulled his own phone out of his pocket. “I’d like to copy these messages to my phone for our records, just so if you get more of them, we know it’s the same situation” I nodded, looking back down at the floor. After a few minutes, I heard the detective’s voice speak. For some reason, it held a trace of irritation in it. “Uh, Mr. Wexler?” I glanced up to see him holding out my phone. “Where are the messages you told me about?”
I felt my jaw drop open as I stared at my own phone screen. The message app he’d opened, the only message app I’d had installed, was empty. There weren’t even ones I’d sent back and forth with my friends and coworkers, let alone the creepy message. All it showed was a single line of texts. Messages empty, make a connection and send a friend a text! I blinked a couple of times, willing for my vision to be mistaken. But no messages reappeared. “Wha-“ I let out, trying to will my mouth to form words. “I don’t….I don’t understand…” The detective dropped my phone on the desk, his irritation now apparent. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Mr. Wexler, but we have a lot of cases, real ones, to deal with. We don’t have time for false reports to be made, which, may I remind you, is a crime in itself” I tried to open my mouth to speak, but he held up a hand. “Now, I’m not going to charge you with filing a false police report” he continued, “But, if you don’t want to try my patience, I suggest you take your phone and leave”
Unable to say anything else, and feeling a wave of despair wash over me, I picked up my phone and left. As I walked outside, my phone vibrated and let out a soft ding. Feeling equal amounts of fear and anger rush into me, I flicked on the screen. This time it was a single message, two words. Nice Try. I began to feel true rage well up in me when it dinged again. We’re watching you, Jared. And, as if to emphasize the point, I saw the Bluetooth symbol flick on. I didn’t know what else to do. I slammed the brand new phone onto the ground, then raised my foot and brought it down onto it. “Fuck you!” I screamed out as I destroyed the second phone in two days. A moment later, I realized how I looked and glanced around. Everyone near me had stopped to watch the spectacle. A couple teenagers had even pulled their own phones out of their pockets and were recording my, what I can only describe as a mental break. You look utterly insane right now, Jared, I thought. Looking around, I felt another wave of paranoia fly through me, and felt the sensation of being intensely watched come over me.
I didn’t bother looking back, though. I didn’t know where it was coming from, not with so many eyes and cameras on me. I just strode away from the station, feeling equal parts terrified, angry, and paranoid. I made it to my car, dropping into the seat before pressing my hands into my eyes at the migraine which had fallen over me. I took deep breaths, fighting to stay in control of my emotions. “Get a grip, man” I whispered out. After a moment, it seemed to work. Feeling calmer, I started the car and drove away.
Happily, and thank God for it, the next month or so seemed to pass by peacefully. I’d cancelled my phone contract with Verizon, which resulted in a rather large early termination fee, but I willingly paid it. Instead, I used the money I would have on the monthly bill, to instead purchase two different things. The first was a landline, something I hadn’t had in almost twenty years. The lower tech style just, somehow felt safer to me. The second was that I still needed some kind of mobile phone for work, to be able to be reached when out of the house. So, I went off to Wal-Mart and bought myself a burner phone, one of those you pay with a physical phone card. I also didn’t purchase a smartphone. I bought the most basic flip phone I possibly could. One that still ran off the old 4G phone systems instead of 5G. One which had no Bluetooth connectivity, barely any ability to access the internet. And most importantly, no camera on it at all. And for those next three weeks, my life began to get back to normal.
That was, until one Friday afternoon. I had the day off, so I just lounged about the house, watching movies and playing video games. As I was attempting to get through a particularly difficult section of Horizon: Zero Dawn, I heard my doorbell ring. Hitting pause, I got up and walked to the front door. On the other side through the glass mounted on the sides of the doorway, I could see the unmistakable shape of a delivery man. The FedEx logo was clearly visible on his hat and shirt. I unlocked the door and opened it. “Yes?” I asked. “Jared Wexler?” he asked, smiling at me. I nodded. He held out his portable computer terminal. “Sign here, please” he said. Taking the electronic pen, I quickly scratched out my signature, then took the thin sealed envelope from him as he turned and began walking back to his van.
Shutting the door behind me, I stared at the envelope in confusion. I didn’t order anything offline recently.. Walking into the kitchen, I sat at the table and peeled open one side, shaking the envelope. Two items tumbled out of it onto the counter. The first I couldn’t tell, as it had fallen face down onto the Formica. The second, however, hadn’t. It had landed face up. As I stared at it, my eyes widened, and I felt my breath begin to come ragged and fast. My heartbeat sped up, thudding wildly in my chest. It was a single sheet of paper, on which someone had typed out a single message. The letters had been typed in large font size, making each word crystal clear. Be seeing you soon, Jared.
Fighting back a rising wave of panic, I reached for the upended sheet of paper with trembling fingers, and after a moment’s hesitation, flipped it over. What I saw on the other side made my breath stop entirely. I felt a scream begin to fight its way up from my chest as I stared at it, only turning to look back into the living room and back.
It was a large, glossy color photograph. The detail was perfect, in complete high definition. What had made me want to scream, was what the picture was of.
The photograph was of me. Me, sitting on my living room couch, wearing the shirt and pants I’d worn two days ago. The shot was taken straight on as I’d relaxed, watching old horror movies. I could see the dopey half-smile plastered on my face as I’d laughed through Deep Rising.
I knew instantly where the photo had been taken.
The photo had been taken through the camera in my smart TV.