The Phone Calls from My Dead Friend

Table of Contents

This horror story follows Natalie, a woman who receives mysterious phone calls from her dead friend and discovers a terrifying connection between the living and the dead.

The office was always noisy during lunch hours, but Natalie had grown used to it. The sound of keyboards, ringing phones, and people laughing near the coffee machine had become a familiar rhythm in her daily life. She worked as a financial assistant in a large corporate building downtown, a place filled with hundreds of employees who came and went every day without anyone really knowing what secrets they carried.

Among all the people in the office, Cloe was the one person Natalie truly considered her best friend. Cloe was cheerful, sarcastic, and always able to make everyone smile even during stressful days. She was the kind of person who would bring extra coffee for someone who looked tired or secretly leave funny notes on a coworker's desk.

"Natalie, you look like you haven't slept in three days," Cloe said one afternoon while placing a cup of coffee on Natalie's desk.

Natalie looked up and smiled. "Because I haven't. Those reports almost killed me yesterday."

Cloe laughed. "Careful saying things like that. The universe might take it seriously."

"Very funny," Natalie replied. "You always say the strangest things."

"That's why you like me."

Natalie shook her head. "Unfortunately, yes."

That was the last normal conversation Natalie ever had with Cloe.

Three days later, the office changed completely. Nobody laughed near the coffee machine. Nobody complained about deadlines. The atmosphere felt heavy, like everyone was afraid to speak too loudly.

Natalie walked into the office and immediately noticed people gathering near the entrance. Some were crying. Others were whispering.

She saw her manager approaching her slowly.

"Natalie..." he said quietly.

Something inside her immediately felt wrong.

"What happened?" Natalie asked.

The manager looked down.

"It's about Cloe."

Natalie's heart dropped.

"Is she okay?"

The silence answered before he did.

"I'm sorry. Cloe passed away last night."

Natalie stared at him, unable to understand the words.

"No. That's not possible."

"There was a robbery at her house. The police said she and her family were attacked."

Natalie felt the world around her disappear.

"No..." she whispered. "I talked to her three days ago. She was laughing. She was fine."

But reality refused to change.

The entire office attended the funeral. Cloe's family, friends, and coworkers gathered together to say goodbye. Everyone talked about how kind Cloe was, how much energy she brought into every room, and how unfair it felt that someone like her could disappear so suddenly.

Natalie stood in silence near the coffin, holding back tears.

"You promised we would have lunch next week," Natalie whispered. "You promised."

That night, Natalie returned home exhausted. The apartment felt unusually quiet. She placed her bag down and sat on the couch, staring at the empty space where Cloe usually sat whenever she visited.

She remembered their conversations, their jokes, and all the small moments she thought would last forever.

Then her phone rang.

Natalie looked at the screen.

The name displayed made her freeze.

Cloe.

Her breathing stopped.

For several seconds, she just stared at it.

Finally, with shaking hands, she answered.

"Hello?"

There was silence.

Then a familiar voice appeared.

"Natalie? Finally! I thought you ignored me."

Natalie's blood ran cold.

"Cloe?"

"Obviously. Who else would call you this late?"

Natalie stood up slowly.

"This isn't funny."

"What isn't funny?" Cloe replied.

"You can't call me."

"Why not?"

Natalie's voice trembled.

"Because you're dead."

There was a pause.

Then Cloe laughed.

The exact same laugh Natalie remembered.

"Wow. That's a terrible joke, Natalie."

"I'm serious!" Natalie shouted.

"Okay, okay. You got me. Very dark humor. Anyway, are we still eating lunch tomorrow?"

Natalie couldn't speak.

The person on the phone sounded exactly like Cloe. The same jokes. The same attitude. The same way of changing subjects.

But Cloe was dead.

"Who are you?" Natalie whispered.

"Natalie, stop being weird. It's me."

The call ended.

Natalie stayed awake the entire night.

She convinced herself someone was playing a cruel prank. Someone had stolen Cloe's phone. Someone was pretending to be her.

But the next night, the phone rang again.

Cloe.

And the night after that.

And every night after.

At first Natalie refused to answer. But the calls continued. Sometimes Cloe talked about work. Sometimes she complained about traffic. Sometimes she laughed about things only the two of them knew.

"You remember when I spilled coffee on my boss's shirt?" Cloe said one night.

Natalie sat silently.

"You told everyone I was trying to improve his fashion style."

Natalie's eyes filled with tears.

"Nobody else knew that."

"Because nobody else is me."

That sentence terrified Natalie.

Slowly, fear was replaced by something else.

She missed Cloe.

Even if the calls were impossible. Even if they made no sense.

Natalie wanted to hear her friend's voice.

Every night, they talked.

But something strange happened.

Cloe never mentioned the accident.

She never mentioned the funeral.

She acted like everything was normal.

One night Natalie finally asked.

"Cloe, where are you right now?"

"At home."

"Your house?"

"Yes."

Natalie swallowed.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"What happened?"

"The robbery."

The phone went silent.

"What robbery?" Cloe asked.

Natalie felt a chill.

"Cloe..."

"Natalie, why are you acting strange?"

Then Cloe laughed softly.

"You're really committed to this joke."

Natalie realized something terrifying.

Cloe wasn't pretending.

Cloe didn't know.

She didn't know she was dead.

Days passed. The calls continued. Natalie began searching for answers. She visited Cloe's house, hoping to find something that explained everything. The strange events reminded her of another supernatural horror story about a mysterious presence appearing in an ordinary workplace, much like My Charm Invited a Ghost into the Office.

The house was abandoned. Police tape still covered the entrance.

She stood outside, looking at the place where her friend had died.

Then she noticed something.

A light inside the house turned on.

Natalie stepped back.

Impossible.

The house had no electricity.

That night, Cloe called.

"Natalie?"

"Yes?"

"I was thinking."

"About what?"

"Maybe I should visit you."

Natalie's body became tense.

"Visit me?"

"Yes. Like old times."

Natalie wanted to say no.

Every part of her screamed to refuse.

But she missed her.

"Okay," Natalie whispered.

"Great. I'll come tomorrow."

The next evening, Natalie cleaned her apartment nervously. She didn't know why. She knew something impossible was about to happen.

At exactly eight o'clock, someone knocked.

Natalie opened the door.

And she saw Cloe.

For a moment, she almost cried with happiness.

"Cloe..."

But then she noticed.

Cloe's skin was pale gray. Her eyes were empty. Her clothes were the same ones she wore on the night she died.

There were dark marks around her neck and face.

She looked like someone who had been buried for days.

Yet she smiled.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Cloe asked.

Natalie couldn't answer.

"Can I come in?"

Behind Cloe stood three other people.

Natalie recognized them.

They were coworkers.

People who had died months ago.

"These are my friends," Cloe said happily.

"They work with me."

Natalie's hands became cold.

"They... work with you?"

"Yes. You know Mark, right?"

Mark smiled.

His face was damaged. One side looked burned.

"Hello, Natalie."

Natalie stepped backward.

They entered her apartment casually.

They sat on her couch.

They drank coffee.

They laughed.

Just like normal people.

Except they were not.

"Your coffee is better than mine," Cloe said.

Natalie stared at her.

"Cloe, do you know what you look like?"

Cloe smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"You're..."

Natalie couldn't finish.

Suddenly, Mark looked at her.

His expression changed.

When Cloe wasn't looking, he whispered.

"Help me."

Natalie froze.

"What?"

"Help me make her remember."

"Remember what?"

Mark looked terrified.

"That she is dead."

Before Natalie could respond, Cloe turned around.

"What are you two talking about?"

Mark immediately smiled.

"Nothing."

The group stayed until midnight.

Then Cloe stood up.

"We should leave."

She hugged Natalie.

Natalie almost screamed.

Cloe's body was freezing cold.

"See you tomorrow," Cloe said.

After they left, Natalie locked every door and window.

She didn't sleep.

At sunrise, she received a message.

It was from Cloe.

"Thank you for being my friend."

Natalie stared at the message.

Then another message appeared.

"Please don't let her stay like this."

It was from Mark.

Natalie realized something.

The dead weren't calling because they wanted to scare her.

They were trapped.

Cloe was trapped in a world where she believed she was still alive.

Natalie needed to help her accept the truth.

The next night, Natalie answered Cloe's call.

"Hi, Natalie!" Cloe said happily.

"Cloe, we need to talk."

"That sounds serious."

"It is."

Natalie closed her eyes.

"You're not alive anymore."

Silence.

"Stop."

"Cloe..."

"Stop saying that."

Her voice started shaking.

"I went home. I slept. I woke up. I called you."

"You don't remember the robbery because your mind is protecting you."

The phone began making strange noises.

Static.

Whispers.

Then Cloe cried.

"I don't want to remember."

Natalie cried too.

"I'm sorry."

"Was I alone?" Cloe asked.

Natalie didn't know how to answer.

Finally she whispered.

"No. Your family was with you."

A long silence followed.

Then Cloe said softly.

"I remember now."

The next moment, the phone went dead.

The following evening, someone knocked on Natalie's door.

She was afraid to open it.

But she did.

Cloe stood there.

This time, she looked different.

She no longer looked like a corpse.

She looked like the old Cloe.

The smiling friend Natalie remembered.

"You look better," Natalie whispered.

Cloe smiled sadly.

"I know."

"Do you understand now?"

Cloe nodded.

"Yes."

They sat together one last time.

"I was scared," Cloe admitted.

"I didn't know I was gone. I thought everyone was acting strange because they were angry at me."

Natalie's eyes filled with tears.

"I missed you."

Cloe held her hand.

"I missed you too."

The room became quiet.

"I wish we had more time."

"Me too."

Cloe smiled.

"But thank you for answering every call."

Natalie laughed through her tears.

"Even when I was terrified?"

"Especially then."

As the night became darker, Cloe slowly disappeared.

"Goodbye, Natalie."

"Goodbye, Cloe."

After that night, Natalie never received another phone call from the dead.

But sometimes, when her phone rang late at night, she still looked at the screen hoping to see one familiar name.

Cloe.

Because some friendships are stronger than death itself.