A phone number was engraved on the bathroom mirror. 798-2431. The numbers were jagged and deep as though they had been carved by a knife. Under the number, the words “Call me” were written in crimson ink. A command. I traced the letters with my index finger. When I pulled my finger away, it was stained with the ink. I licked it. It had a salty, metallic taste. It was blood. I spat out the blood, but its taste remained in my mouth. I tried to wash the blood from my finger, but the stain would not disappear.
My phone rang. I looked at the number. 798-2431. I answered.
“Hello.”
“You’re dead.”
“What?”
“You’re dead.”
Silence. The connection was gone. The bathroom lights went out. The door locked with a soft click. I heard soft footsteps behind me. I was not alone.
I could see the dark outline of a man reflected in the mirror. His figure was blurred as though he was an apparition of some kind.
“It’s dark in here,” he commented casually.
“It is.”
“I have matches. I’ll light one.”
I could hear the scratch of the match striking the box.
“That’s odd. It won’t light.”
“Were you the one who called me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Did I say I would?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will.”

He took a step towards me. I watched him through the mirror. He struck another match and, this time, it flared into life. His features should have been made clear by the flame’s light, but they were not. They remained shadow-like, without solid form. He had no face or eyes. I could not tell what he was thinking. The match went out. The room went dark.
“Don’t worry, I have more matches.”
He lit another and held it until it too went out. He crushed the red-hot ashes in his hand, and threw them on the floor.Then he lit another match, walked over to the sink next to mine, and turned on the faucet. He threw the lit match into the running water. It died instantly.
“Use your matches to find the light switch.”
“No point. There isn’t one.”
Two more matches. He lit one and let it fizzle out before flicking it into the sink basin. Then he lit the last match and held it close to the mirror so that the scarlet numbers glowed.
When the flame died, he threw the match down the sink’s drain.
I felt water soak through my shoes. I looked down and noticed that the tap he had turned on had caused the sink to overflow.
“The drain is clogged and the faucet is stuck. I can’t turn it off.”
He was silent after that. He stood at the sink next to mine, not moving and not speaking. All the while, the water was spreading slowly across the floor. We both stood there for what must have been hours, neither of us moving or speaking. The water kept rising. My shoes were completely soaked.
“Can you turn off the faucet?”
“I told you, it’s stuck.”
“Let me try.”
“Suit yourself. You won’t have any more luck than I.”
I walked over to the sink he was standing in front of and pushed down on the faucet. It didn’t move. I slammed it as hard as I could. Still, it did not move. The man walked down the row of sinks, turning on the faucets, one by one. I followed him, trying to turn off each one, but to no avail. They all remained stuck on.
“Why are you doing this?”
“To speed up the process. As you can see, it’s incredibly slow. You should relax. There’s nothing you can do.”
The water continued to rise. It seemed to be flowing faster than before. My shoes were now completely engulfed. Higher. The water reached my knees. The man took no notice. He simply stood and stared into the mirror.
“It takes a long time, I know. It will be over soon.”
The water had risen to my chest. It was ice-cold. My fingers and toes were going numb. The water closed over my head. I floated upwards. I tried desperately to tread water. My limbs felt like lead. My joints protested every time I kicked or paddled. I was getting tired. My movements were becoming slower and lazier. My head went under. With a powerful kick that required all of my remaining energy, my head broke the surface. I gasped for air. I went down again. I tried to swim to the surface, but could not. My limbs were frozen in place. They would not obey me. My lungs began to ache. Then they burned. I opened my mouth. Water flowed in. I swallowed. My lungs and chest were on fire. I felt like I was burning from the inside out. I took another desperate gulp, hoping that somehow it would be air that entered my lungs, but it was not. It was water. I couldn’t see a thing. The water was jet black. My world vanished.