Oh my gosh, I was texting someone just then and then IT happens. My phone falls on my face! I hate it when that happens! Does that ever happen to you?
Ha! Sucks to be you! Your phone just totally attacked your face!
What? Are you saying my phone's trying to kill me? HAHAHA!
What if I am?
What? Hey, I thought you were jo-...
The next thing you know, you're going to wake up in the middle of the night because of some strange sound. -scriiiieetch- ... -scriiiiiieeetch- The sounds of someone sharpening a blade. 'Who could be up so late? Mom?' you wonder. You brush this fact out of your mind and fall back into light slumber.
The next day, you put your phone into your pocket, eat your breakfast, and finish whatever you need to do in the morning and head off to school. You arrive at school and head towards your locker and switch out some books. As you walk to class, you feel that your pockets are slightly heavier than before. You reach into your pockets only to pull out your phone.
'Why is my phone so heavy?' You wonder to yourself. You walk into the classroom and sit down and begin to learn. Halfway through class, you hear a girl giggling. You glance around the classroom but you see no one smiling. Gradually, the giggles evolve into chuckles. It grows louder and louder until the entire class can hear it. For the strangest of reasons, it begins to echo. It echos lightly, bouncing off the walls of the classroom. It grows louder and louder, more and more violent, until it becomes the menacing, bone chilling laughter of a psychopath. The entire class is panicking.
"What's going on?! Who's laughing?! Shut up!" The students chatter nervously amongst each other and the teacher tries to calm them down. One by one, each of the students, including the teacher, turn their heads towards you.
"It's you... It's you! You're making that sound! Stop it!" someone screams at you.
"N-no! It's not me! I swear!" You panic. Everyone's glaring at you. 'Why is this happening to me?!' You feel suppressed by the glares of your classmates. They zone in on you slowly while you slide backwards towards the back of the room. Then, all of a sudden, you hear the teacher yell, "Everyone stop this at once! Alexis, please take out your phone and turn it off. Why would you even set your ringtone to be like this?!"'My ringtone? No.'"No! This isn't my ringtone! I don't know what's going on!" You quickly whip out your phone, trying to prove your innocence, but it's laughing. Your phone is laughing. The laughter that was previously muffled by the pocket cloth is now free to sound. It laughs violently, vibrating the phone to the point where your hand is shaking along with it. The class and you stare at the phone, horrified.
Your hand trembles, sweat drips down your neck as you gulp down your saliva.
"Stop it... STOP THE LAUGHING!" A student collapses to the floor, bawling her eyes out. Her body is shaking and her tears are flowing non-stop. Other students slowly join in the break down. Eventually, you are the only one standing, holding the phone. Your hand grips your phone tighter, until you feel pain. 'Pain? Why would I feel pain?' You slowly advert your gaze from the students to your hand. You bloody hand. The blood slowly oozes out of your skin and flow smoothly down your arm, soaking into the sleeve of your shirt. You stare at the bloody hand, wide eyed and terrified. The laughing phone, has cut you. It cut you. 'How? Why? This can't be possible!' These thoughts run through your mind, making you confused. Your hands start trembling on their own and the grip soon weakens. The grips weakens to a point where the phone just naturally falls out of your hand and lands on the floor with a shatter. The screen cracks; but the laughing continues. You notice your phone tilted to the side; it's not laying flat on its back. You shakily kneel down and pick up and roll your phone over, and stare at the back in horror. A line of small blades protrude from the center of the back of your phone. The blood that the blades have collected slide slowly down and seep into the cracks of your phone. You stare at the blades, then your hand, then the blades again. 'This is wrong. Something's wrong. Those blades weren't there this morning. What is going on?!' You let out a barely audible whimper as you kneel there, staring. You hear the whimpers of the class, the teacher's break down, and the echoing laughter. The echoes bounce loudly off the walls, ringing in your ears. 'Why doesn't the class next door help?! Why isn't anyone coming to help?! Can they not hear all this noise?!' Truth is, you already know why they're not coming. No one's going to come. They all heard the laughter, and ran. Everyone's gone. The only people in school right now, is this class. Everyone heard the hysterical laughter and ran away.
"Oh God," you begin to pray, "Please save us. Please let us out of this place!" You scream the last sentence as your phone begins to roar. The phone shakes violently and roars as you roar along with it. The sound of your roar, the phones roar and the student's crying all mix together into a symphony of despair. The tears stream down your face as you become overcome with desperation.
"Somebody, help u-" -SKLIRSH-
The sounds of wailing come to an abrupt stop. The roar of the phone and girl fade away quickly from the empty halls. The only sound that could be heard is the trickling of liquids, and the echo, of small thumps. Then, all was quiet. The phone has consumed it's battery life to its content. It dies out and remains silent, as if nothing had happened. In the distance, one can hear the soft sound of dripping. The janitor that works the afternoon shift walks down this hallway, humming to himself, but stops abruptly as he stares at a red liquid, leaking into the drain. He shakes his head from confusion and slowly continues walking. He clutches his mop tightly as he follows the trail of the red liquid to a classroom. The classroom. He tests the door, it's unlocked. The sound of a door creaking open echoes down the halls along with the soft splish splash of the red liquid. The janitor, being the curious man that he is, enter the classroom, not knowing what to find. "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" The janitor screams. He steps back quickly, only to slip on from the blood and fall. Fall. Head first, into the upturned phone with the protruding blades. Another soft thump could be heard throughout the hallway. What was the scene? I'm sure you can guess what the scene looked like. The image of beheaded children, sprawled on the ground and above the desks. The image of a mangled teacher, sitting all twisted up in the chair. The image of red, the blood stained classroom that allows no other colors, but black, to invade. Then, there is that. That thing in the back of the classroom. Whatever it was, it didn't look human. The image of that thing looked disgustingly grotesque. The body of a human, dismembered and mangled and twisted and smashed into an unknown existence. It soaks in it's own pool of blood. What a sight, indeed. I wonder if the other janitors would be successful in cleaning up this mess? Or will they also, fall on welcoming blades?