The Last Broadcast

nreal. His mind scrambled to make sense of what had just happened, but no rational explanation came to him. He had been warned, that much was clear. The sto

oser now, the shadows longer and more ominous, but there was a strange sense of urgency growing within him. The station felt like it wa

le, his hand trembling as he turned it. The door creaked open, revealing the small, cluttered space that had once bee

deepened, curling into corners and stretching along the walls. And then there was the radio-the source of the mysterious voices that had plagu

now you'r

he voice of the mysterious figure in the storm, nor was it the one he had h

re not

a step back, confusion and fear churning within

m, a disorienting wave of white noise that left Ben staggering, his hands pressed

ed too loud in the stillness. He stood there, his mind racing, his eyes dar

m the corner of the room. Ben's eyes snapped to the source of the noise. Something w

movement was subtle, but it was there-a flicker, a shift

other step, the figure

d of ordeal. Her face was pale, her features sharp, almost gaunt. But it was her eyes that stopped Ben in his tracks. They were empty-hollow

k, heart pounding. The woman didn't move. She simply

ould not

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, his gaze flickered toward

uld move, the wo

coming for

ed slowly, her movements fluid and unnatural, like a marionette pulled by

om, her steps silent against the wooden floor. And the

were a blur-everything felt wrong, out of place. The woman'

nt, but he knew one thing:

e turned back to the equipment, rushing toward the microphone, his fingers trembling as he a

ng against metal. His mind raced, trying to process the sound, but b

n to me,

him. But now, it wasn't just a whisper. It was clear, insistent, as if some

They will take everyth

ce. Ben's breath quickened as the words sank in. **

tic grew stronger, the sound overwhelming until it filled the room, closing in around him. Ben gra

, it was different. It wasn't a voice from the radio, but a sound, soft

sign of movement. The sound came again-soft at first, then louder, a r

getting

voices, the figures-they weren't just warnings. They were threats. He could feel it now, deep in his b

at the walls anymore. It was at the door. The knocks were sharp, l

he door, his mind racing. He knew that whatever was on

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