the voice
Fiction by John Dennis
The voice started as a courtesy.
“Don’t forget your keys.”
Daniel paused in the doorway, checked his pocket. There they were. He laughed—quiet, embarrassed—and stepped into the hall.
That night, it came again.
“Turn the stove off.”
He hadn’t cooked. Still, he went back. The knob was warm. He stood there a long time before twisting it shut.
After that, he listened.
The voice was calm. Patient. It never shouted.
“Take the earlier train.”
“Don’t answer that call.”
“Look behind you.”
Each time, something small—almost nothing—proved it right. A missed delay. A wrong number. A man standing too close on the platform, smiling without blinking.
Daniel began to depend on it. Who wouldn’t? The world felt sharper, safer.
“Call your sister.”
He hadn’t spoken to her in years. She picked up on the first ring, crying. “I was just about to call you…”
He smiled. Of course.
Days passed. Then weeks.
The voice grew closer.
“Don’t trust him.”
“Leave now.”
“Lock the door.”
And one night:
“Stay awake.”
Daniel obeyed. Sat in the dark, heart ticking too loud.
At 3:16 a.m., the voice spoke again.
Soft. Almost kind.
“He’s almost here.”
Daniel swallowed. “Who?”
A pause.
Then:
“You already asked that.”
His breath caught. “Asked what?”
Silence.
Then, gently:
“Who?”
Something cold slid through him.
At 3:17 a.m., there was a knock at the door.
And from the other side, his own voice said:
“Don’t open it.”
John Dennis was born in New York and moved to Sweden after being stationed in Italy while serving in the US Navy. He holds a Master’s degree in Pedagogy from Malmö University where he also studied Creative Writing. A stroke ended his teaching career giving him more time to write. He has been published in Nunum, The Good Life Review and Midsummer Dream House. He is married to Anna, father to Julia and grandfather to Noah.