The Wish Wall Turned Death List

Right after graduating from college, I developed an anonymous social networking app.

Aside from the usual venting and blind matching features, I recently coded a new module called the Whisper Wall.

A few days after it went live, a lengthy review popped up on the backend.

[Highly recommend this Whisper Wall feature.]

[I wished for my boss to die. He ruined my life and couldn't keep his hands off the female staff. I wished he would curl up and go right back into his mother's womb to be reincarnated.]

[I didn't expect it, but my wish actually came true.]

I chuckled at the screen, brushing it off as some user's twisted sense of humor.

A second later, a breaking news alert flashed at the top of my phone.

[Middle-aged man found dead in local apartment under bizarre circumstances.]

The accompanying photo was heavily blurred, but the description was enough to make my skin crawl. The victim was found completely naked, sealed inside a massive, heavy-duty industrial water bag. His body was unnaturally contorted into a tight ball.

He looked exactly like a fetus in a womb.

I sucked in a sharp breath. A chill crept up my spine as the review I had just read echoed in my head.

Stop scaring yourself, I thought, taking a deep breath. Coincidences happen all the time.

Just then, my bedroom door creaked open. Mom stood there holding a crumpled shopping receipt, looking thoroughly confused.

"Riley, what on earth do you need an oversized, heavy-duty water bag for?"

The air in the room seemed to freeze.

"When did I ever buy something like that?"

I stiffly took the receipt from her hand. The timestamp clearly read 2:10 AM yesterday.

But at that exact time, I was sound asleep in my bed. I hadn't even stepped out of my room.

"I definitely didn't buy this. I was dead to the world last night." My voice pitched up defensively.

As the words left my mouth, the news report struck me like a bolt of lightning.

The body was found inside that exact type of heavy-duty water bag.

My fingers began to tremble. I unlocked my phone and pulled up the article again. The preliminary police report stated the time of death was around 2:30 AM.

Right after the water bag was purchased.

Did the killer drop this receipt? But how did it end up in my coat pocket without me knowing?

Mom didn't notice my pale face. Her eyes drifted to a pair of my sneakers resting by the door, and she frowned.

"Still lying about not going out? Look at the soles of your shoes. They are caked in mud. You didn't even bother wiping them on the mat."

Grumbling under her breath, she picked up my sneakers with a look of disgust and headed for the laundry room.

I was rooted to the spot, my heart hammering against my ribs.

It had poured rain late last night. But I was absolutely certain I had been sitting at my desk optimizing the app's backend code. I went straight to sleep after that. I hadn't even walked down the hallway.

So where did the thick mud on my shoes come from?

I frantically opened my app. On the Whisper Wall, that obscure, bizarre murder wish had suddenly skyrocketed to the top of the trending list.

The comment section was blowing up with hundreds of replies.

[Did you guys watch the morning news? That wish actually came true. It sounds creepy as hell, but that scumbag really died looking like a fetus.]

[Oh my god, I have goosebumps. You don't think the app developer is some psycho who actually grants these wishes by killing people, do you?]

[Get real. That's a felony! Nobody is stupid enough to commit murder over a stranger's post.]

Reading the endless stream of text made my stomach churn. Panic threatened to pull me under.

Was I sleepwalking? Was I committing murders in a trance just to satisfy my users?

That was completely insane.

Desperate to prove my own innocence, I forced myself to walk down to the apartment building's management office and asked to see the security footage from last night.

I fast-forwarded through the recordings from 2:00 AM to 3:00 AM. My front door remained firmly shut. I never appeared in the hallway or the elevator.

Seeing that finally let me exhale. Maybe the receipt and the muddy shoes were just a really sick prank.

A few days later, my best friend Sophie invited me out for dinner downtown.

She was a brilliant forensic pathologist. Her daily routine involved spending hours in cold autopsy rooms, dealing with corpses and bizarre homicides.

Because of her line of work, most people kept their distance, thinking she brought bad luck. But we had been inseparable since elementary school, and I never cared about those stupid superstitions.

Halfway through our meal, Sophie poked at her salad and brought up the weird apartment murder with a heavy sigh.

"Don't even get me started. That massive storm washed away every single piece of useful trace evidence at the scene."

"The brass gave us a strict deadline. We have to close the case in a week. I've been pulling all-nighters for three days straight."

She lowered her voice and leaned in close. "But we actually locked onto a suspect. She's just being incredibly uncooperative."

My chest tightened. "Uncooperative?"

Sophie nodded. "The detectives dug into the victim's social circle. Turns out he had a nasty habit of sexually harassing the women at his company."

"But when we brought one of the victims in for questioning, she was completely unhinged. She swore up and down that she just made a wish on some app called Whisper Wall, and karma took care of the rest."

All the blood drained from my face. My voice shook no matter how hard I tried to steady it.

"Making a wish... can kill someone?"

"Right? It's completely absurd." Sophie rolled her eyes, looking exhausted. "But she refuses to change her story. The biggest headache is that we checked her alibi. It's rock solid. That lead is a dead end."

She put down her fork, sounding a bit angry.

"Honestly though, the guy was a total piece of garbage. He used his position to prey on his subordinates for years. He ruined a lot of lives. He got exactly what he deserved."

"A guy like that probably had a line of enemies stretching around the block. It's no wonder someone finally took him out."

Hearing that the police didn't directly link the app to the murder made me feel a little better.

"The only thing is..." Sophie added.

"We found a footprint near the scene. We're pretty sure it belongs to the killer. It's a US women's size six."

My breath hitched. I wore a size six.

Just as I tried to act normal and ask for more details, my phone lit up on the table.

A text message from an unknown number popped onto the screen.

"I know you killed him for me. Don't worry, my lips are sealed. I won't rat you out."

The color vanished from my face. My hands shook so badly I could barely unlock the screen.

"What's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost."

Sophie noticed my reaction instantly and leaned over with concern in her eyes.

I panicked, hitting the lock button and forcing the most unnatural smile.

"It's... nothing. My stomach is just acting up. I think I need to go home and rest."

After hurriedly paying the bill and saying goodbye, I practically ran back to my apartment. The second I locked the door, I opened my messages and stared at that cursed text.

[Who are you? What the hell are you talking about?]

I typed the response with trembling thumbs and hit send. A reply came back almost immediately.

[Stop playing dumb. You were the one who messaged me asking for his home address. You wanted to help me get revenge, right?]

[Relax. The detectives already brought me in. I didn't say a single word about you.]

Those two messages felt like daggers in my back. I searched every corner of my memory. I never asked anyone for a home address.

As if sensing my disbelief, the stranger sent a screenshot.

It was a very brief direct message exchange.

[I can help make your wish come true. Send me his exact address.]

[Really? Thank you so much. 223 Ashburn Lane.]

The sender's number at the top of the screenshot was unmistakably mine.

I tore through my phone's message history and the app's backend. There was no trace of this conversation ever taking place.

What the hell was going on? Who was doing this to me?

On the verge of a breakdown, I sent one final, harsh warning.

[You have the wrong person! I have no idea what you're talking about!]

[I am just a normal software developer. I've never broken the law in my life. If you forge another screenshot to frame me, I am calling the cops!]

I stared at the screen for minutes, but the stranger never replied.

My mind was a complete mess.

Ever since I launched that stupid Whisper Wall, everything had been twisted. Murderous wishes, a random receipt, muddy shoes, and a size six footprint at a crime scene.

All these bizarre clues were weaving a net, trying to pin me as a killer.

Instead of sitting here losing my mind, I needed to cut it off at the source. If I deleted the feature, this would all end.

I rushed to my computer and logged into the server. I typed out the commands to take the module offline. Before I could hit enter, a red notification popped up on the screen.

A new wish.

My finger hovered over the mouse. Against my better judgment, I clicked on it.

It sounded like a high school student pushed to the absolute edge.

[That old hag lost her mind again. Just because I missed one page of homework, she threw an entire advanced calculus workbook at my face and told me to finish it by tomorrow morning.]

[If I don't, she's going to make me read a public apology in front of the whole school at assembly.]

[It's 2 AM. I'm only a third of the way done. My brain is melting. I just want to die.]

[No... I shouldn't die. She should.]

[I wish she could feel this kind of hell. I wish she would drop dead while doing math problems!]

The pure venom in those words brought back terrible memories of my own high school days. We had a math teacher just like that, Mrs. Gable. She was a tyrannical, borderline sadistic woman.

She loved using extreme humiliation to punish anyone who fell behind. Years ago, a girl actually had a mental breakdown from Mrs. Gable's constant bullying and jumped off a building. It caused a massive uproar.

But because Mrs. Gable had relatives on the school board, the whole thing got swept under the rug.

I couldn't believe toxic teachers like her were still ruining kids' lives.

I checked the stats. The likes on this wish were climbing at a terrifying speed. It broke a thousand in minutes.

The comment section was full of furious agreements.

[I totally support this! Teachers who use psychological abuse to stroke their own egos don't deserve to be around kids.]

[Let her try pulling an all-nighter doing a whole workbook! That's not punishment. That's abuse!]

I sighed heavily. The internet could be a dark place, and letting this kind of mob mentality brew was dangerous. I immediately bypassed the frontend, went into the core code, and permanently deleted the Whisper Wall module.

The next morning, the sun was shining. My phone was perfectly quiet. My racing heart finally began to settle.

That weird apartment murder was just a coincidence. It had nothing to do with my app.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, ready to enjoy the quiet morning. Then someone started pounding frantically on my front door.

I opened it to find Sophie. She was pale, sweating, and panting heavily.

"Riley, do you remember Mrs. Gable from Oakridge High?" Her eyes were wide with a terror I couldn't understand.

"She was found dead in her house last night."

"What did you say?"

My coffee mug slipped, spilling hot liquid over my hand, but I couldn't even feel the burn.

Sophie pushed past me and collapsed onto the sofa. She grabbed a glass of ice water from the table and downed half of it.

"We got the call before dawn. Mrs. Gable died in her study. You will never guess what the scene looked like."

The dread I had been trying to suppress clawed its way back up my throat. My voice trembled.

"Was she... grading papers when she had a heart attack?"

Sophie froze and stared at me like I was a stranger.

"How did you guess that? But you're only half right. She wasn't grading papers. She was slumped over her desk, frantically filling out an advanced high school math workbook."

She lowered her voice, treating it like a ghost story.

"Tell me that isn't completely messed up. A senior teacher with decades of experience, staying up all night with bloodshot eyes, doing a student's homework. And the worst part is..."

Sophie paused, giving me a complicated look. "The initial autopsy showed she didn't have any underlying conditions. She was literally scared to death. A massive adrenaline spike caused a fatal cardiac arrest."

The cause of death hit me like a physical blow. Last night's hateful wish flashed before my eyes.

But I deleted the module. How could this still happen?

I ignored Sophie's bewildered stare and sprinted to my computer. I woke up the screen and bypassed the login to access the main dashboard.

My blood turned to ice.

The Whisper Wall, the feature I had personally wiped from the servers, was sitting flawlessly on the front page of the app.

Not only that, the death wish against the teacher now had over two thousand likes.

Pinned to the very top was an update from the original poster.

[I was just venting. I didn't think it would actually work.]

[That evil witch is actually dead.]

The entire forum had lost its collective mind.

[Are you kidding me? Does this thing actually work?]

[It has to be fake. I wished to win the lottery, and I didn't even win a dollar on a scratch-off.]

[Yeah, I wished to pass calculus, and I still got an F.]

[Wait... do you guys notice a pattern? Are lethal wishes the only ones that come true? This isn't a Whisper Wall. This is a hit list!]

[Agreed! The more I think about it, the more terrified I get. Who is running this app?]

Those analysis threads were highlighted in red, trending at the very top.

Sophie walked up behind me. Seeing my bloodless face, she placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Riley, what is going on with you? You've been acting paranoid since last night. What are you so afraid of?"

I opened my mouth, having no idea where to start. Then, a commotion started out in the hallway. Muffled voices and heavy footsteps.

I walked stiffly to the front door and pulled it open.

My legs almost gave out.

On the clean white wall across from my apartment, someone had used dark red paint or maybe blood to write a single, massive word.

MURDERER.

Sophie gasped loudly and covered her mouth. "Oh my god... Riley, what the hell is happening?"

I leaned against the doorframe, my voice cracking.

"Sophie... if I told you this app can actually kill people, would you believe me?"

Like a drowning person clutching a lifeline, I told her everything. I told her about the malicious wishes, the deaths that matched them perfectly, the receipt for the water bag, the muddy shoes.

I even pulled out my phone and showed her the screenshot from the anonymous number.

Sophie listened in stunned silence. She shook her head slowly.

"That's impossible. It defies all logic and science. How can someone commit a perfect murder just because of an anonymous online post?"

I didn't have the answers. I just felt a cold dread seeping into my bones.

Right then, Sophie's eyes darted toward the corner of my computer desk.

She walked over, bent down, and picked up a vintage black fountain pen. She rubbed her thumb over the casing, her expression turning grim.

"Riley, why is Mrs. Gable's pen in your apartment?"

I flinched violently and turned around.

The pen looked ordinary, but it had Oakridge High School engraved on the side in faded gold lettering. It was a custom gift given only to tenured honor teachers. Mrs. Gable carried it everywhere.

Before I could even process the shock, heavy footsteps stopped right outside my open door.

Several detectives in suits, accompanied by uniformed officers, stood in the doorway. The lead detective flashed his badge, his eyes sharp and unforgiving.

"Miss Riley, you are a prime suspect in two recent homicides. You need to come with us to the precinct right now."

The police tore through my apartment.

They bagged the receipt, the size six sneakers with the matching tread pattern, and Mrs. Gable's custom pen.

Unsurprisingly, their cyber division pulled the backend data from my desktop. The specific wishes detailing the exact methods of murder became the most damning evidence of all.

I was officially the prime suspect.

In a cramped, suffocating interrogation room, I explained myself over and over. I told them I never left my apartment on the nights of the murders. The physical evidence had appeared out of thin air. I had no connection to the victims, and I certainly wouldn't become a serial killer just to grant wishes for anonymous users.

The detectives seemed to agree that killing people just to satisfy app reviews was a wildly absurd motive.

More importantly, they had pulled the security footage from my floor, the lobby, and the street cameras. I was never captured leaving the building.

They had physical evidence, but no timeline and no proof of me traveling to the crime scenes. It was a massive hole in their case.

Because the chain of evidence was broken, they had no choice but to let me go, though I was strictly forbidden from leaving the city.

The first thing I did when I got home was turn on my computer.

I had poured five years of my life into this app. Countless sleepless nights and endless lines of code. It held all my hopes for the future.

Now, it was a cursed Pandora's box.

I felt no attachment to it anymore. I pulled up the command terminal, wiped the server directories, and completely shut down the entire project.

Done. Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed, praying the nightmare was finally over.

Just as I was drifting off, my phone screen lit up with a harsh notification sound.

It was an automated push alert from the app.

A new wish sat on my lock screen.

[The woman who gave birth to me is a parasite. She gives everything to my loser brother.]

[Now, she wants to sell me to the creepy old bachelor next door just to get enough money for my brother's down payment.]

[I wish that selfish, evil woman would die right in front of everyone!]

Ice water flooded my veins. I had wiped the servers. How was the system still sending push notifications?

I opened my browser and tried to access the backend. It returned a lifeless 404 error page. The app really was gone.

Was it just a cached bug?

I rubbed my temples. I couldn't deal with this madness anymore. I powered off my phone completely, wrapped myself in blankets, and let exhaustion drag me into a dark sleep.

I don't know how much time passed before a blinding light and the harsh crackle of static woke me.

I forced my eyes open, and my blood ran completely cold.

I was sitting on a rotting sofa inside an abandoned warehouse. My fingers were wrapped tightly around the handle of a hunting knife.

Less than ten feet away, a middle-aged woman was strapped to a metal chair. Her mouth was taped shut. She stared at me with pure, unadulterated terror.

Next to her stood a set of professional studio lights and a high-definition camera. A red light was blinking.

It was a live stream.

My mind went entirely blank.

What happened? Why was I here? Why was I holding a knife?

The setup, the rural woman tied to the chair, the raw malice in the room. It perfectly matched the wish I had read before falling asleep.

I glanced at a monitor hooked up to the camera. The chat was moving so fast it was a blur.

[Holy crap! A dark web execution stream? Is this real?]

[Probably some indie horror movie viral marketing. Where's the fake blood?]

[That doesn't look fake. Look at her eyes. I'm calling the cops right now!]

[Wait! Doesn't this match the new wish from the Whisper Wall this afternoon? The girl with the knife is the app developer!]

Someone in the chat posted my full name and details.

[It's her! Riley! The cops brought her in for the other two murders today. She really is a serial killer!]

[Broadcasting a murder live? This psycho is mocking the police!]

Sirens wailed in the distance. The flashing red and blue lights sliced through the grime on the warehouse windows.

The heavy metal doors flew open. Mom and Sophie stumbled inside.

Seeing the scene, Mom's knees buckled. She collapsed onto the concrete floor, sobbing hysterically.

"Riley! What are you doing? Put the knife down! Don't do this!"

Sophie had tears in her eyes. Her voice cracked.

"Riley, it's not too late. Please, I am begging you, put the weapon down. Don't kill her!"

A SWAT team flooded the warehouse right behind them. Tactical flashlights blinded me, and a dozen assault rifles were aimed directly at my chest.

"Drop the weapon and step away from the hostage! I'm going to count to three, or we will open fire!" the team leader roared.

I stood frozen in the spotlight, staring at the chaotic, surreal nightmare unfolding around me.

Did I really do all those things? Was there some bloodthirsty monster hiding inside my brain, taking over my body to grant these sick wishes?

In that moment of absolute despair, my eyes landed on a small detail in the corner of the room.

My pupils dilated.

It was like a bolt of lightning cutting through the fog. All the weirdness, all the impossible coincidences.

Suddenly, I understood everything.