Creating an element of doubt

Picture a scene of contented domesticity. A housewife is tackling the routine chores when the phone rings. Just as she is about to pick up the receiver, it stops. Nothing particularly unusual here, just a wrong number. Unless, of course, the same thing happens continually throughout the day.

By the time her husband returns home from work, our housewife is a bundle of nerves. He manages to calm her, putting it down to phone engineers working on the line.

That evening they are watching TV when the wife hears a noise outside. Husband investigates but can see nothing. The cat strolls in through the open door and they laugh the incident off.

In bed that night, the wife is woken by the phone ringing. Her husband stirs but doesn't waken so she makes her way downstairs to answer it but when she picks up the receiver, the line is dead. She returns to the bedroom and climbing back into bed, snuggles close to her husband but something doesn't feel right. She tries in vain to rouse him and discovers he is dead, his face a contorted mask of fear.

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