It gets you with sound, not sights. A single voice drifting around a dark room, a phone line with nothing verifiable on the other end, and that looping hold music doing the work a jump scare never could. The line "You're right. There was a bug. I killed it" is the whole film in miniature: a reassurance that curdles the second you ask which bug, and whether the person saying it is talking to you. Nothing lunges out. It just keeps the receiver pressed to your ear and lets the silence between phrases stretch until you start filling it in yourself, which is exactly the trap. Barely anyone has seen this one, which is why the people who have won't shut up about it, and why you'll think about it the next time you're on hold at 2 a.m. and the music loops one beat late.

Deep into the night, a single voice drifts through a room as someone speaks into a telephone, remarking that there was a bug and that it has now been killed. Only that one side of the call can be heard, and whoever or whatever waits on the far side of the connection is left entirely unknown. The film is a horror piece with a psychological bent.