Chapter 1:The App That Wasn't Downloaded
Faizan had always been careful with his phone.
No shady links. No random downloads. No Bluetooth file-sharing. Just games, YouTube, and a heavily locked Notes app where he scribbled things he never said aloud.
So when he woke up to see a new icon on his home screen — red background, a pixelated skull, and the name "VoxSoul" — his first reaction was confusion.
He frowned, rubbed his eyes, and stared again.
VoxSoul? He didn't remember downloading it. No notifications. No Google Play history. No permissions requested.
"Another prank from those idiotic Telegram groups?" he muttered.
He held the power button. Restarted the phone.
The app was still there.
He pressed and held the icon, expecting the familiar "Uninstall" option.
Nothing.
Just a vibration. And then… the screen went completely black.
Faizan's heart skipped. The phone buzzed in his hand once, twice… then the screen flickered back on.
But now, something had changed.
His lock screen wallpaper — a photo of him and Nimra at the college fest — was gone. Replaced by pure black. And right at the center: the VoxSoul icon pulsing softly, like a heartbeat.
He unlocked the phone quickly and tried going into Settings > Apps.
Nothing.
No record of VoxSoul anywhere.
His thumb hovered over the icon again. His instincts told him not to touch it. But curiosity — or maybe some deeper fear — made him do it.
He tapped.
The screen glitched. A low hiss echoed from the speakers — almost like static, but… layered with voices. Whispering. Crying.
Then, a deep male voice, hollow and echoing, said:
"Welcome, Faizan. You didn't download me. I downloaded you."
He dropped the phone.
For a few seconds, he just stared at it lying face-up on the floor. The screen now showed a countdown timer: 11:59:13… 11:59:12...
What happens at midnight?
He grabbed the phone and threw it into his drawer.
Locked it.
Tried to breathe.
---
That evening, Faizan sat with Nimra on the edge of the rooftop of their apartment building. The sky was a dusty gray, clouds gathering like bad thoughts.
"You look like crap," Nimra said, sipping her cold drink. "Did you finally start watching horror reels at 3am like I warned you not to?"
Faizan tried to laugh but it came out stiff. "Nah. Just didn't sleep well."
She narrowed her eyes. "You sure?"
He hesitated. Then shook his head. He couldn't tell her. Not yet.
Because saying it out loud would make it real.
"You ever heard of something called VoxSoul?" he asked instead.
Nimra blinked. "Nope. Sounds like one of those cringe AI music apps or something. Why?"
"Nothing. Just... something popped up on my phone. Won't uninstall."
"Get a new phone," she said, shrugging. "Yours is ancient anyway."
That night, Faizan stayed awake.
11:55 PM.
He sat in his dark room, phone in hand. He had tried to reset it — nothing worked. Factory reset? Failed. Safe mode? Blocked. Even the tech guy at the repair shop earlier looked confused and gave him back his phone after five minutes.
11:59:50
The countdown was back. And this time, it was accompanied by a soft hum.
11:59:59
12:00:00
The screen went black again.
A soft ding echoed, followed by the same cold voice:
"Truth is the beginning of death."
Suddenly, a new screen loaded.
It showed a name.
A photo.
And a sound file labeled: PLAY.
The name on the screen was:
SHOAIB MUNIR
Faizan's breath caught.
He recognized the name — Shoaib was a college senior. Loud, popular, always hanging around the parking lot with a group of boys Faizan usually avoided.
With trembling fingers, he pressed play.
A distorted recording began. Shoaib's voice — unmistakably his — came through:
"I told them she fell. That I tried to stop her. But I didn't. I pushed her."
Static.
Then silence.
Faizan's hands were shaking. He looked again at the screen.
NEW RULE UNLOCKED: You have 24 hours. Either Shoaib dies… or you do.
Time Left: 23:59:50
"No, no, no," he whispered. "This isn't real. It's a prank. A game. Some sick viral thing."
He held down the power button again.
The phone didn't turn off.
The camera light blinked once.
He dropped it on the bed and backed away.
Then the phone rang.
He stared at the screen.
INCOMING CALL: VOXSOUL
Against every instinct in his body, Faizan answered.
The voice whispered:
"One dies. One survives. Choose."
Click.
---
Next morning, the news hit him like a slap.
At 6:40 AM, Shoaib Munir had been found dead.
Fell from the rooftop of the hostel building. Ruled a suicide.
Except… Shoaib was afraid of heights.
And Faizan hadn't touched him.
The phone buzzed again.
"Well done, Faizan. You survived Night One."
And beneath that, a new countdown began.
Next name reveals in: 11:59:59
---
To be continued…