Hello, 911 can I help you Breathing slow and quiet A person on the other end Hello are you ok do you need help The person talks quietly and very soft I don’t need any help, but they do What do you mean, who’s they? The family that once lived here What do you mean? There all dead gone forever The whole family and I’m the cause Who are you ? Death to them. I was there worst nightmare chuckling I really did it i torture everyone Who you talking about? They made me do it! He screams Who are you? There worst nightmare, I told you The police is on there way There to late, there dead Who is dead? Everyone Who’s everyone? Jack and Jill the grand parents Richard and Sue the parents Tom and Jerry the sons Marie and Lisa the girls Andy and aunt Bee My God! What did you do? I told you, I killed them all What should of been done long ago Who are you? There worst nightmare The dispatch was freaking out Tears running down her cheeks This call was different the person on the other end of the line was calm as if he had enjoyed what he had done. She asked why? I I had to do it, he said as he spoke softly The dispatch had already sent out the police She continued trying to learn more from the killer What happened? What was so bad you had to kill everyone? They were mean they hated me I am different not like them, they laugh at me Made fun of the way I talk. They would never say anything good to me. I would cry. I would ask why, he said in a sad and low voice They would say because I was stupid and ugly No one liked me they would all say it to me. I just wanted to be nice to everyone instead I was different, I’m sorry! The police arrived surrounded the house and a shot rung out as they kicked in the door Hello, hello, there was a silence, then police were rushing trough the house looking for anyone. It quickly got silent for there were no survivors The police were silent at the scene, the dispatcher Cried for this was different from any other call She had ever received. She wasn’t sure what she felt. She was sad for the whole family, because they were all dead. Then she was sad for the man on the other line, She thought to herself why? So what if the man was different, the dispatcher found out that he was a middle son that had a speach impairment. The rest of the family were perfect, could talk correctly and because, he was different they hated on him. Why? She thought, Now they are all dead and so is he, just because he was different. He was there brother, a son , grandson, someone’s cousin that only wanted to fit in. No one should of died this day. The one son looking for love to be excepted be part of the family was considered an outcast. Feeling sad and lonely being hated on drove this guy crazy with no family and no where to go,he killed everyone for not being nice. No where to go not being excepted he killed him self. She thought to herself what a price to pay for not being nice.

“I need to be talked off the proverbial cliff.”

My heart sunk to my feet. The job itself would do that to you, answering helpline calls all day, but this was different. I knew that voice, but it couldn’t be …

“What’s wrong, sir?” I brought myself to say, mouth going dry already.

“I just don’t see a purpose in things anymore. I’m losing interest. What do you recommend?”

“Well, what things used to bring you interest?” I said without thinking, reading the script embedded in my mind. The training had been intensive, and even though it was long ago now, I remembered how to approach each call. Most of the time.

“Walking. Talking with friends. Only, I don’t have any right now. I just moved back to this city.”

My heart had told me right. This was him. We used to walk, and we used to talk. He had moved, and now he had moved back. And now he was making this phone call, and I knew it was him, but he didn’t seem to know it was me.

“What do you like about this city?” I asked to keep the conversation going.

“Lots of things, actually. But I find there’s a memory tied to each one and that makes it hard for me to go there. LIke The Point, for example. Great food. Excellent service. But too many memories of those old days, long gone, that make it unbearable to even drive by.”

I gulped. The Point had been our first date. Our favorite hangout spot. Was he thinking of me when he spoke of those unbearable memories? Or others he had taken there? I had to remain focused.

“That’s understandable. What’s your favorite dish there?”

He named a dish we often shared.

“What if you order that for yourself for dinner tonight? Just to be delivered. Enjoy it on your own time and think of those old days.”

“Hmm,” he said from across the line. I heard him fumbling with something that sounded like paper. “That might not be a bad idea.” He paused, and then said, “You know, you remind me of someone.”

The comment took me aback. “Good or bad?” Was the first thing I said, without thinking.

“Someone good, I think, but bad for me. Bad for eachother. But still, you know how you can miss people like that?”

“I do, Cory,” I said without thinking. As I audibly gasped at my carelessness, I heard the phone disconnect. The line was already ringing again with a new call. I took a deep breath and continued my day, letting memories of those old days fade into the back of my mind.

“911 what your emergency?”

“Yeah Hi theres an angry british man throwing potatos at me!”

“Um Sir this line is for emergencies only.”

“This is a emergency- AH, SAM STOP IT!”

“I’m going to have to let you go.”

“Like Elsa?”

“Goodbye sir.”

— Beep. —

“Well that was useless.”

“Duh Mattheo.”

”Can you stop throwing potatoes at me now?”

”No.”

”HSAHGSGDGEKEUE-”

....

• Ringggg -

”Tess help me. 🥹”

“I’m gonna do it. I have nothing left to live for”
……. dddddddd…….. He’d hung up.

Suzy paused, holding the phone in her hand away from her ear. She could still hear the faint tone emanating from the receiver. She felt numb, she felt numb because she will never know. Never know if he lived, never know if he got the help he needed, never know if she could have helped him, saved him.

She replaced the handset and as she did she closed her eyes and sent thoughts and prayers to him, the stranger, hoping he would be alright.

Help Line: Thank you for calling our helpline. How can I assist you today?

Caller: Oh, thank goodness I reached someone! You won't believe what just happened. Mysterious white lights landed in my backyard, and I have no idea what to do. It's like something out of a science fiction movie!

Help Line: That sounds incredibly intriguing! Can you provide more details about these lights? Did you notice anything else unusual or have any concerns for your safety?

Caller: Well, the lights descended slowly, almost gracefully, and seemed to hover above the ground before disappearing. I didn't sense any danger, but it's left me feeling bewildered and curious. Is there anything I should do?

Help Line: Given the nature of the incident, it might be worthwhile to document what you observed. Take note of the time, duration, and any specific characteristics of the lights. If there are any physical changes in your backyard, such as scorched grass or unusual marks, it could be useful to photograph them as well. Safety should always be a priority, so ensure you feel secure in your surroundings.

Caller: That's sensible advice. I'll make sure to document everything and ensure my own well-being. But what if these lights are something extraordinary? Should I contact any authorities or experts?

Help Line: If you believe these lights are an extraordinary event, it may be beneficial to reach out to local authorities or organizations specializing in UFO or paranormal phenomena. They can provide guidance, investigate further if necessary, and help shed light on what transpired. Remember, they have experience in handling such occurrences and can provide insights specific to your region.

Caller: Thank you so much for your guidance. I feel more prepared to address this situation now. I'll start documenting and consider reaching out to the appropriate experts. I appreciate your help!

Help Line: You're welcome! I'm glad I could assist you. If you have any more questions or if anything else arises, don't hesitate to call. Good luck, and I hope you find the answers you seek regarding this fascinating occurrence in your backyard!

This is not how I imagined it. I didn’t think it would come so soon. I didn’t think I’d be so certain of the time it would happen. And I definitely wouldn’t have guessed this would be how I’d die.

Right now I’m tightly bound and gagged to a chair in my office that is bolted to the floor. I can’t move more than an inch in any direction. I’m facing the door. There’s a gun on a tripod aimed at my chest. A cord is tied around the trigger and to the door handle. As soon as someone pulls the door open the gun will fire and that should be that.

The reason I’m sure of the time of my demise? I set it. I sent Janie, my girlfriend, a note earlier in the day suggesting an after work ‘meeting’ and told her to let herself in, I’d be waiting with a surprise. I set the rendezvous for 6:30 and added “don’t be late.” Janie is nothing if not punctual, especially when there’s romance involved. Normally, I love her for that.

No, I didn’t know I’d be in this predicament when I set up the date with Janie. When I woke up this morning, this was going to be just another day at the Gambler’s Anonymous Help Line.

You know the string of numbers some guy rattles off at the end of an online betting ad faster than anyone can possibly write it down? I work at one of those: 1-888-Fold-Now. Clever right? Apparently it’s memorable.

On an average day we get 110 calls from people who are on the verge of losing everything, or already have. It’s not just money, it’s their cars, their homes, their jobs, their friends, and even their families. They might gamble on one thing, like horses, or these days, using an app, they might gamble on everything, like the color of the Gatorade that football players will drink during a playoff game. Whatever it is, the problem has similar trajectory, like a cold that evolved into a full blown flu. It starts out as a fun diversion that gives you something to talk about around the water cooler. Then, over time, it becomes an obsession, an addiction, an embarrassing loss of control that has to be hidden. Eventually it is an irresistible force, a tornado carving a path of destruction across a life.

I know this because I’ve been there, and this job is part of how I stay healthy. My drug of choice was Black Jack. When I started there was no online play, it was Vegas or local games in the back room of the neighborhood bar. I was already an addict but access limited how much damage I could do. And then the internet came along and I lost any semblance of control. Everyone has their own story, but mine ended up like so many others’, with me broke, alone, and on the verge of homelessness.

My journey back is a long story for another day, but it included 1-888-Fold-Now, and some incredibly generous souls who stood by me through my long recovery journey. That was five years ago. I’m now a manger at the help line.

At 11 am, I was at my desk. I’d just hung with Janie after arranging our date. The phone buzzed. One of the helpline call takers wanted to talk to me, something that happens multiple times a day. They get a call that is more than they can handle alone and they bring me in to conference.

“Sean, sorry to bother you, but I think you need to handle this call.” I could hear the tremble in Janet’s voice.

“It’s never a bother, it’s my job. What’s going on?”

“This…this guy says he knows you…from your days playing cards…that you ruined him…that your time is up.” I could hear her shaking through the phone.

“My time is up?” I repeated softly. I had no idea who this could be or what he was talking about. “Okay, put him through.”

I didn’t recognize anything about the voice on the other end of the line. Guessing, I’d say male, mid-40s. The gravelly tone said long time smoker. Could have been any of a 1000 guys I played cards with back in the day.

“Hello, this is Sean, what can I do…”

“Just listen” he interrupted “get something to write with. If you don’t do exactly what I tell you to today, your parents and little sister won’t ever be coming home.”

“What are you talking about, what do you know about my parents and my sister?” I tried to remain calm.

“I know you love them more than anything, just like I loved my family more than anything. And I know you’re going to have to choose your life and theirs, just like you made me choose between my life and the life of the people I loved.”

My mind was racing to place the voice, to make sense of what he was saying, to dig up something from my past that matched his story.

And then I remembered. “Samuel, is that you?”

“Spirit Whisperer, how may I haunt you?”

I had started a spiritual business where I offered living people the chance to talk to their dead love ones for only $ 13.99 per message. They believed I sent it to their spirit and they had to pay another $ 13.99 to receive an answer. A vague answer I had made up myself, obviously. Most people just wanted to know they were loved and forgiven.

“I want to talk to my son.”

Oh no, not another dead kid. Those parents get way too sentimental about that. I’m a scam, not a therapist.

“What is your son’s name and when did he died?”

“He’s not dead.”

“Then talk to him face to face. You know, we are a serious spiritual business. We are not here to help living people who can’t get along.”

“He’s not dead, but I am.”

Haha, really funny. It’s the first time I’m hearing this one. A spirit talking. As if this was possible.

I quickly hang up the phone, having no more time to waste with that lady.

Until I could still hear her say something in my ear as if she was right next to me.

“Hello? Are you here? Can you hear me?”

Kate had finally finished a hard day’s work of speaking to people and hearing their problems. She felt like a psychologist, which she didn’t mind, but there was only so much she could tolerate. But hey, it was better than sweeping the floor or being stuck behind a register. As she packed her things and locked up, her phone buzzed with an unknown number.

She held the phone up to her ear and expected to hear crying or ‘I need help’ however, there was nothing but white noise. When she was about to hang up, a child’s voice could be heard.

“H-hello? My mommy doesn’t feel good. I think she’s dead.” The child choked through sobs.

“Ok, um, where exactly is your mom, kid?” Kate asked softly.

“She was on the couch…”

“Can you see if she’s breathing? Having you tried waking her?”

As she waited, she walked down the empty sidewalk where the only light source was the flickering street lamps. The silence was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine, it shouldn’t take this long to answer. The young woman started to wonder what was happening, until the child spoke again.

“…she’s not there anymore.”

“What do you mean? Did she get up? Is she ok?”

“…She told me we are playing hide and seek but I can’t find her.” The child sniffled.

Kate listened in confusion until something made her emerald eyes widened and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her grip on the phone tightened. Maybe it was from watching too many horror movies, or being too paranoid again, but her gut instinct told her otherwise and that scared her. That scared her a lot.

“Hey, what’s your name kid?” Her shaky voice barely rose above a whisper, “and how old are you?”

“My name’s Bradley and I’m…I’m five.”

“Bradly, I need you to go into your room and lock the door. Then tell me where you live. Can you do that?”

No response.

“Bradley?”

Nothing.

“Bradley? Kid, you there?”

Silence.

“Answer if you’re there. Please.”

Then Kate heard something that shook her to the very core. Something that even an exorcist would freeze up to.

𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬. 𝘚𝘯𝘢𝘱. 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬.

Multiple cracks followed by labored breathing followed by more cracks. And then silence. The fucking silence. But one reason Kate didn’t hang up right then and there was because occasionally there was a scratch from what was a wooden floor, little raspy whimpers like a slobbery panting dog desperate for water. The other reason was the sudden coldness throughout her own being. It wasn’t that cold outside yet she could see her own breath and goosebumps made their presence known rather instantly. Her gut instinct was right.

The last thing before the call abruptly ended was the sound of Bradley’s strained intertwined with another’s:

“….Mommy found me….”

“Hello-“

Suzy Lee sat, half-slumped in her chair, struggling to muster up enough enthusiasm for another caller. There’d be another after this one, and another after that, for which more enthusiasm would be needed, but she had long since resolved that those a problem for the her of the future. For now, one at a time.

“I’m Suzy Lee with DayCorp limited, you appear to have selected “three” for the technical helpline, how may I help you today?”

Yeah, Suzy. That’s good!

“Well, I…”

The caller seemed to stumble over their own words, as though caught by surprise.

“Ms. Suzy Lee, I appear to have a problem. I followed your packages instructions to the letter, I’ve used all the parts…”

Oh. Let her guess. It’s not working. She wonders if this one even plugged it in.

“and I believe I may have received the wrong box.”

Bummer. This one was gonna want a refund, weren’t they?

“Ok then, can I ask what product you ordered, and what you appear to have received?” She threw back the reply from the employee training course, half-hearted. She longed to be back in marketing.

“I ordered the toaster, I believe the, um.” The caller seemed to be struggling again.

“The DayGlow Food Preparation 3-in-1?” She offered. Only toaster in the catalog.

“Yes! That one, I believe! And what I received appears to be…” Once again. Poor guy must be really startled, struggling for words like this. Might not speak the language well, actually, but aren’t there foreign helplines?

“Well. It appears to be much larger. And more… bulbous?”

Suzy sat up a bit straighter. Bulbous? DayCorp products are always boxy. It’s one of their selling points, the industrial look.

And there appeared to be something else over the line. A whirring, faint, from somewhere on the other side.

Probably nothing.

“Mhrhgm,” she cleared her throat, “could you describe it in a built more detail please, then, appreciated customer?”

“It’s about… this high,” useless “black, but kinda colorful, like an oil spill. All bubbly and bulbous, a bit wider at the bottom than the top, and…” they seemed to stop talking, then yelped “VERY hot. Very, very very hot.”

“Mmm.” She began to idly read through her checklist, half-listening to his description. “And what does it appear to be doing?”

“Uh. Pulsing, slightly? Sometimes little parts of it kinda melt, and fall. It’s getting on the floor.”

The whirring was much, much louder now.

Suzy held the receiver from her face, and poked her head from her cubicle, shouting down the area aide.

“Rav! Rav! Hey Rav! Do we have any kinda heaters on record? Something big and black?”

The temp bit his lip slightly, and shook his head.

“No ma’am, I don’t believe so, I can check the full product listing, if you want, it might be something old.”

“Yeah, go do that. Make sure to double-check, too.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

The temp scurried away. Good. Even if he didn’t find anything, everyone knew he ratted to the boss.

She resumed her call, just barely hearing something like the end of a scream as she put the phone to her ear. She idly used that if she’s hearing things, she should really take a brake.

“Sorry about that, we’re checking for any products that fit that description. In the meantime, do you happen to have a receipt for your order?”

“Hello?”

Nothing. The customer must’ve put the phone down again. All that was coming over was a loud whirring, and some sort of keening noise. Sounded like something boiling, too?

“Hellooooo? Anyone there?”

The keening sound changed pitch, as if to reply. Nothing.

Well. Boss said she always needed to check three times, so…

“Anybody there?”

Nope. Nothing but another pitch-change.

She sighed. She hated the ditchers. Jerks. At least she didn’t need to go through inventory and shipping for a refund, this way.

She hung up the phone, getting tired of all the background noise. The whirring and keening, thankfully, stopped.

Well. Hopefully that customer’s happy with what they got. She stood, stretched, and looked around for the boss. She must be really fatigued, now; maybe he’d let her take an early lunch.