Her Name Was Amanda

It all started out as a normal afternoon for me. I got home much earlier than my wife most days, as her days as a nurse at Mannheitten Hospital for the most part took up all of her time. I had one of those simple office jobs at the IT department for my workplace, so my stay was much smaller.

Anyway, that night I laid on the couch watching TV when our home phone started to ring. There were few people we knew who called that phone, so it mostly made up of telemarketers or pranksters. As I turned my head to notice the caller ID, I found that, like I thought, it was no one we heard of.

This one, however, was different. While most ID's telemarkers were things such as “Valley Insurance” or “Hordson Attorneys”, this one read as “[UNTITLE AXCO93HH]”. I took a minimal glance at it until I realized it was likely that just someone changed their own ID as a prank, and continued watching the almost marathon news coverage of the Steubenville High School bombings.

However, during the coverage my power went into an outage. Cursing under my breath, I went to check the breaker box until I heard something coming from the living room – the home phone ringing.

Sure enough, it was the same peculiar ID. I took this as a sign the power might've been back on, so I tried turning on the TV. No juice, yet the phone continued ringing.

Finally I succumbed to all temptations and picked up the phone, What I found on the other end made this call even more strange.

On the other end came the sound of gurgling, rushing water. At least, that would be my best description of it. Any voice was inaudible, drowned out by the sound of a liquid bubbling and a slight static scratching on the other end.

“Hello?” I dumbfounded-ly spoke into the phone. Of course, I received no answer – just the continuous sound of rushing water. As the noise grew on, it became tedious, so I ended the call.

Just like that, the lights turned back on again.

You must be thinking I had to have thought something was wrong, but truth be told I am the farthest from a skeptical thinker. Everything had to have an explanation, or a coincidence. Though I was slightly confused by the call, I continued on as normal. This was my first mistake.

A few hours into the day, my wife had still not arrived yet. I moved from my television viewing to web browsing, using my laptop on the couch. Until, of course, as all strange tales go, there was a knock at the door.

Now, my wife still wasn't expected for about a hour more, and she called me before coming, so I took the knock, once again, as some advertiser. The knocking continued for awhile, until it eventually ceased.

What replaced it, though, put a straight chill down my spine.

Rushing water. The same exact noise I heard from the phone, static and all. For the first time in what seemed like my lifetime, my panic meter turned on.

I ran for the phone, as the knocking and rushing continued. Realizing what I had gotten myself into, I made a rapid attempt to dial 911, before I realized the flashing words on the screen:

:DISCONNECTED:

From the other side of the house, I heard the door open.

All had seemed lost, but there was one last drastic hope. I ran through the living room, past the hallway and down into my office. From my bottom, least-used cabinet, I pulled the revolver out.

Putting six .45 shots in and loading, I waited in the corner, my gun aimed at the door. My heart was pounding, yet it seemed the footsteps getting closer and closer seemed to overwhelm the sound of my own despair.

The knob turned.

Out came a young woman – about her later 20s. She had crisp, auburn hair. Short and curled. Her light green eyes penetrated mine. I could recognize her from every way I looked.

It was my wife. Yet, it wasn't. There was something off about her figure. Something uncanny. Something only I would notice.

“Who are you?” I demanded, my gun shaking in my hand.

“I am Amanda.” her calm, soothing voice answered for me.

It was not my wife's name, nor my wife's voice. I was suddenly relaxed by this figure, but stood straight up again realizing what I was facing. This was no woman, this was a monster. And her name was Amanda.

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