Mara worked night shifts at the emergency dispatch center. Most nights were quiet, punctuated by the occasional drunk dial or lost cat call. Until the static started.
It began just after 2 a.m. A low hiss through her headset. Then—words.
“…help… trapped…”
She sat up straight. “This is 911, what’s your emergency?”
“…they won’t let me out… basement… can’t breathe…”
The line cut out. No number. No location.
She tried tracing it. Nothing.
It happened again the next night. And the next. Always the same voice. Always the same plea.
Mara became obsessed. She stayed late. Played back recordings. Every word etched into her memory.
And one night, she heard something new: “Behind you.”
She turned.
The headset fell to the floor.
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