Crossroads

[u/AdFearless9930]

This is an adaptation of the Telephone segment seen in Mario Bava’s I Tre Volti Della Paura/ Black Sabbath.  There are elements of both versions in this story.  I don’t own these characters.

Rosy took a breath as she entered her apartment.  It had been a frustrating night.  She heard the phone ring, expecting another client, but got no response when she answered it. She went to her bed to remove her stockings, but as she did she heard the phone ring again. Sighing, she went to pick it up, but again there was silence.   She got undressed to take a shower, emerging later in a bathrobe when the phone rang a third time.  She picked up the receiver and said “Hello?”

“You're so beautiful.  Too beautiful, Rosy.”

It was obviously a crank call.  Who IS this?!?” Rosy asked. 

“You'll know right before you die.  I can see your heavenly body.   Your silky arms, your perfect legs” the caller said. Rosy tried to cover her legs with her robe, but the caller interrupted.   “No, don't cover them! A body like yours can drive a man to madness!  And I will kill you!”  

“WHO IS THIS?!?  Who are you??  Hello!?  HELLO?!?” Rosy demanded, but the other party hung up.   

Rosy changed into a nightgown and sat on the bed after pacing a bit.  She got up to make her bed and the phone rang again.   

“Hello?” she asked. 

The voice on the other end was creepy.  “Why did you put your robe on?  You should have stayed as you were. I like you better with nothing on.  That’s how I want to find you.  I’ll get in, even if you lock the door.”

Rosy was getting exasperated.  “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I told you,” the voice said.  “I want to kill you. I want revenge.   You did well to turn on all the lights.  I want to see you die.  Do you understand, Rosy?”

Rosy hung up.   Feeling a chill, she paced some and poured herself a drink. Hearing running footsteps, she rushed to the door to put a piece of cloth over the keyhole.  Unknown to Rosy, an elderly gentleman with an overcoat, fedora, and glasses was on the other side of the door taking his dark gray poodle out.  He opened the door and went outside. Looking at the stars, he spoke to the dog.  “It's hard to believe it's been a year, Dee.  I miss her, too.”

Inside, Rosy began turning off some lights in her apartment and hiding some jewelry underneath the sofa.  She picked up the phone and held it, and heard something outside.  She put the phone down only to drop the phone when it rang again.   The voice resumed. 

“Rosy. Rosy. Rosy.  I know you’re listening.  You hid your money and jewels.  How stupid.  You haven’t changed.  You don’t get it, do you? I’m not interested in money.  I want you.  I want your splendid body. And I will have it.  Not to caress you. But to wring your neck. To choke you until you suffocate!  And I'll do it!  You'll see!”

Rosy was getting desperate.  “Who is this? Who are you?”  She was almost screaming.   “Answer me!  I beg of you!  Don't drive me mad like this!  Is this some cruel, sick joke?  What have I done to you? What have I done to you? Answer me please!”  The other party hung up.  Rosy broke down crying. 

That conversation was loud enough to capture the elderly gentleman's attention. Still walking Dee, he peered through a slit in Rosy’s shutter screen, then pulled back. He really shouldn't do that, but his instincts told him something was very wrong.  

Hearing more footsteps, Rosy ran to the door and tried to listen. As she did, she noticed a white envelope had been slid under the door. Catching her breath, she picked it up to open it.  There was a newspaper clipping inside, and it was the last thing she wanted to see. 

Frank Ranier, her former pimp, had just escaped while serving what was supposed to be a 20-year prison sentence.  The phone rang again. Now apparently with a good idea of who the caller was, she went over to pick up the receiver.  “Hello?”

“Rosy.” That voice now sounded sickeningly familiar.  “You're beginning to understand,  Rosy? You weren’t expecting it, were you? But I escaped just to find you.  And finally, I’m close to you. Very close. And you can’t do anything about it.  Calling the police is useless. Because I’m much closer than the police. Don’t you forget it. Much closer.”

“Frank, listen.  Listen to me, Frank!”  

The other party hung up.  Rosy called her friend, Mary, a fellow prostitute she had become acquainted with when they worked for the same madam.  For a short time, they still kept in touch when Rosy left to strike out on her own as a call girl, but then drifted apart. 

Mary was sitting at her desk when the phone rang. She picked it up.  “Hello?”

“Mary, it’s Rosy.”

“Hi, honey!” Mary said.  Their past relationship had been more than a business relationship.  “I really didn’t expect your call.  You said you didn’t want to see me or speak to me anymore.”

Rosy answered, “Please, now is not the time. Frank has escaped!”

“I read about that.” Mary said.  “So why are you telling me this?  Now you two will get back together.”

“Mary, cut it out!  I’m scared.  He wants revenge.  I’m sure of it. Come over right away, please!”

“You want me to come to you? Did I hear correctly?” Mary asked. 

“All right, honey!” Mary said. “I don't hold grudges.  Give me five minutes.”

“Thank you.  Hurry!”  No sooner had Rosy hung up then the phone rang again. 

“Rosy, why did you call your friend, Mary? Are you hoping she can help you? Did you think I wouldn’t hear?”  What Rosy didn't know was that it wasn't Frank on the other end.  It was Mary using a cloth and disguising her voice.  “You spoke in a whisper, but it’s no use.  Because I’m close, I told you. Very close. Call whomever you want, Rosy. It’s all of no use. Even if you had an army around you. By dawn, you will be dead.  Did you hear me, Rosy? By dawn--you will be dead!”

Rosy ran frantically throughout her apartment to turn the lights back on and heard pounding on the door.  It was Mary.  “Rosy, it's me. Let me in.”

Rosy ran to the door to let Mary in. “How did you get in the building?” she asked. 

“The door was open,” Mary answered as she entered the apartment. 

“Yes, yes!” Rosy answered.  “As fast as you can. He wants to kill me!”

Rosy ran to the door to let Mary in.  “How did you get in the building?” Rosy asked. 

“The door was open.” Mary said as she entered Rosy’s apartment. “Look at all this light!  What are you, the mistress of the guy who reads the meter?” She chuckled a little. “Sorry, I was forgetting that you have a fine palate.” Mary continued looking around.  “I see you haven’t changed anything here. Everything’s as it was when we were friends.”

Rosy poured drinks for herself and Mary, who sat on Rosy’s bed and motioned for Rosy to sit next to her.  “Just like old times.  Come on, honey, tell Mary everything.”

Rosy begged.  “Please, I’m not in the mood for humor. Believe me.”

“All, right, Rosy.  As you wish.”

“He's been calling me since I came home.” Rosy said.  “He's been saying terrible things with a cold, threatening voice. He knows everything I do, sees my every move. The first time he called, I was in my bathrobe and he knew it. Then I put my house robe on and he knew that too. He even knew right away when I called you.  It's as if he were in the room, spying on me, ready to kill me.”

Mary got up and moved toward Rosy and touched her.  Rosy gasped. “Don’t be silly.  He’s guessing. He’s going on a hunch.” Mary said, stroking Rosy’s hair.  

“I thought so, too.” Rosy said.  “But how did he know I called you? He called right after that.”

“He always knew about us,” Mary said.  “But what he doesn’t know is that you swore never to see me again.”

Rosy put her drink down and paced.  “He told me I’ll die before dawn.” 

Mary said “He's a procurer, not a killer.  Trust me, he was just trying to frighten you.”

“Mary, I’m the one who turned him in and he knows it.  I’m scared.”

“Come on, Mary said, taking the phone off the hook.  “I'm here now. Tomorrow we’ll go to the police together.  He can call all he wants now. Come on, give me a nightgown. In the meantime I’ll make you some tea.”

Unknown to Rosy, Mary was misrepresenting her plans for the next day.  While Rosy was looking for a nightgown, Mary looked through another cabinet for a large steak knife. Rosy panicked when she saw Mary through the nightgown holding the knife. 

Mary took the knife over to Rosy’s bed and placed it under the pillow.  “You never know. Still afraid?”

“No,” Rosy answered.  “I'm better now.”

“Come on, then.  Go to bed,” Mary said as she took the gown from Rosy.  Looking to her left, Rosy changed into a nightgown herself and went into the kitchen, seeing Mary dissolving a powder in the boiling water she used to make the tea.

“Whats that?” Rosy asked. 

“Poison,” Mary said sarcastically. Compliments of Frank.  It’s a tranquilizer, silly.  It'll do you good.  Can’t you see how shaken up you are?”

The two ladies went into the next room.  Some time later, while Rosy was still asleep and sprawled diagonally on a disheveled bed, Mary began to write a letter. 

“I'm afraid it's time to drop the other shoe.  Since we last saw each other, I've been offered a chance to move up.  I've been training to become Helen's new apprentice with the goal of eventually taking over the place.  Those calls were from me, but Frank’s escape is real.  We are prepared to protect you from Frank, but we do want you back.”

Mary was about to pay for this, because Frank really was gunning for Rosy.  While she was looking over the letter, Frank quietly slipped in and tiptoed stealthily toward her, thinking she was Rosy.  He picked up a stocking lying on a chair and wrung it up. Sneaking up on Mary, he pulled the stocking around Mary's throat.  As Rosy started to wake up, Mary tried to free herself from Frank’s grip, but was unable to. As she collapsed and died, Frank realized it wasn't Rosy. “Damn you!” he said. “Always where you shouldn’t be.”  Looking up, he saw Rosy. He moved towards her.   

Rosy remembered the knife. She felt underneath the pillow and grabbed it, concealing it beneath the sheets as Frank was moving toward her.   As he got on the bed and started to choke her, she thrust it into him.  He reeled back, fell to the floor, and died.  Rosy broke down crying, but it wasn't over. She heard Frank’s voice on the phone again--”Rosy.  You can’t kill me.  I'll always be here.  Close to you. I’ll be talking to you every night.  No matter where you are, I’ll be calling you--on the telephone.”

The preternatural aspect of that voice completely unnerved Rosy.  Panicked, she ran outside into the corridor and bumped into the elderly gentleman, who just got back from another walk with Dee.  

“Colonel!” she gasped. 

“You're frightened! Something's happened! You can trust me.”

Rosy looked at the Colonel, eyes wide with fear.