Every Screen in the House Showed the Same Face
When the power hiccupped, every screen in my house woke up. They didn’t show menus or static. They showed a face—on all of them—turning its eyes toward me.
-
-
The Signal Came From Beneath the House
A signal scanner led me down to the basement, where a pulse in my headphones began tapping from beneath the concrete. When the signal vanished, something else woke.
-
The Numbers Repeated Until the Power Failed
I logged an unfamiliar frequency that shouldn’t have held anything. The voice read numbers without end—calm, patient—until everything went dark, and it kept going.
-
The Station That Only Played at 3:17 AM
At exactly 3:17 AM, a station bled through my bedside radio. Each night it grew clearer, until the voice started describing rooms I hadn’t told anyone about.
-
The Voicemail Came From a Dead Man’s Phone
A thunderstorm, a quiet bedroom, and a 2:58 a.m. voicemail from a number that shouldn’t exist. Most of it was static—except the phrase he only ever said to me.
-
The Radio Answered Before the Question Was Finished
We went in expecting static. The ghost box didn’t wait for us to finish our questions—then it answered one I only thought.
-
The Recorder Captured Breathing in the Empty Room
I locked the conference room and left a recorder running to prove the noises were just the building settling. The playback whispered otherwise.
-
Numbers Stations: The Cold War Mystery Still Broadcasting Today
Synthetic voices counting into the static became a Cold War obsession. Decades later, the broadcast codes persist—and so does the mystery of who is listening.
