The calls always seemed to come late at night, after the rest of the family was a-bed, and before the exhaustion of his body finally defeated his chronic insomnia.
Always the same, the phone would ring. He would answer.
silence, for a moment, and then the sounds would start.
Sounds that had no definition, no words, yet struck a fear in him that was unlike any other.
Sounds that whispered of infinite times and vast spaces, sounds that foretold a death with no rest.
And then the words…
Words he did not, could not understand, but struck his heart with a cold spike of terror.