The Last Call from the Future

By sabrin-be

Maya's life changes with a single, mysterious phone call. Every day, an unknown number rings, and every day, the voice on the other end is hers—ten years in the future. Maya is warned that she has only 72 hours left to avert an unspeakable tragedy.

But the warnings don't come with clear instructions, only cryptic messages and glimpses of a version of herself that doesn't belong to her. As strange events escalate—shadows in her apartment, duplicates in the city, and memories being erased—Maya realizes her future hangs in the balance.

With the help of a stranger who survived a similar nightmare, Maya must confront herself, face the versions of her life that were never meant to exist, and fight to reclaim her timeline. Every choice matters, every second counts, and one wrong decision could erase her.

"The Last Call from the Future" is a mind-bending thriller about time, identity, and the terrifying power of fate. Will Maya survive, or will she be replaced by a version of herself that she never belonged to?

• Language: English
• Publisher: sabrin-be
• Release date: Dec 8, 2025
• ISBN: 9798232822415

Book preview

​The Last Call from the Future

​The Last Call Through Time

At precisely 2:14 a .m., the phone began to ring.

It wasn't the faint hum of an unwanted call, nor the familiar, soothing tone of her morning alarm. This ring was sharp, almost metallic, jarring—a sound like a crack piercing glass.

Maya Collins awoke instantly, jolted awake.

In the dimly lit room, the bluish light of her phone cast an eerie haze on the walls. On the screen, the caller ID was indistinct: Unknown Number. No location. No further details. All she received was a blank identifier, as blank and featureless as emptiness itself.

Her instincts told her to ignore it. Every fiber of her being screamed that the call would go unanswered. Yet something about the ring—its distinctive, unnatural tone—disturbed her, as if it held an intention directed solely at her.

Despite her hesitation, she pressed the answer button.

For a moment, the line held nothing but slow, ragged breaths. The caller stood uncomfortably close to their phone, each strained exhalation audible. Maya parted her lips to break the silence, but before she could speak, a voice emerged from the stillness.

Maya.

Her body froze.

The voice wasn't just familiar; it was her own. The same rhythm, the same tone, but aged—heavier, heavy with weariness as if worn down by the years.

Maya, listen to me, the voice urged. There's not much time left.

The connection broke off for a moment, and the silence echoed like a distant rumble of thunder. The voice deepened, a moment further away, as if carried across a vast expanse. You have seventy-two hours.

Maya sat up instinctively. What does this mean? Who is this?

The woman on the other end exhaled sharply, clearly annoyed.

Me, she answered quietly. You... ten years from now.

Maya was overcome with disbelief—a spontaneous urge to mock it seized her. But then she detected something in the voice that dispelled her doubts: fear. It echoed in every word—crude and deep—as if coming from someone cowering behind a door that could barely withstand an imminent threat.

The static grew louder again, scattering the words into broken whispers:

...Don’t trust...

...They’ll leave...

...Everything will change...

Suddenly, the static stopped, and her old voice returned, clear and distinct—sooner and closer, as if emanating from the edge of her bed.

Maya... promise me you’ll listen. Then, with heartbreaking endings: Please—don’t make the same mistake.

And then the line went dead.

A hollow silence filled her room, broken only by Maya's ragged breaths. She stared at the dark phone in her hand, forcing herself to believe it was nothing more than a terrible nightmare or a bout of sleep paralysis—anything she could rationalize within the confines of reality.

But just as she began