There was only one rule: don't open the door. No matter what. That was the rule her parents set for Sam.
She just turned thirteen and was being left home alone for a night until Christmas Eve, while her parents went on some trip to finish some last minute business deals.
The details didn't matter to Sam because she got to stay up all night and binge watch her favourite shows.
On the first night, just past midnight, there was a knock at the door, but Sam was falling asleep on the couch and didn't hear it. The knocking got louder, but Sam was fast asleep. The knocking stopped.
On the second night, the wind was howling and the knock came back. This time Sam was in the kitchen grabbing a late night snack.
"Who's there?" Sam called out.
"Hey Sam, it's mom, we forgot our keys, can you open the door?" Came the sound of her mother.
Sam's phone was ringing as she walked toward the door. With one hand she reached to unlock the door, while with the other she answered her phone. "Hey sweetie, sorry we won't be home until Christmas morning, the storm delayed our flight." Her dad's voice sounded from the phone's speaker while she also heard it from the other side of the door. "Sam, let us in already, it's cold outside."
She was frozen in fear as the knob began to turn and the door opened...
About the Creator
Dwayne Chapman
I write stories and articles of all genres. If my content is to your liking, stay tuned! I have more coming and will be creating a community discord channel for those who want to follow me and get updates on future projects.
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The Voice That Waited
Seen (1) At the edge of a quiet town stood an abandoned radio station, forgotten by time and avoided by locals. The building had been shut down for over twenty years, yet people claimed that at exactly 2:17 a.m., a faint broadcast could still be heard on an old frequency. No music. No news. Just a voice. Daniel was a small content creator who specialized in audio storytelling. He didn’t believe in rumors, but he believed in stories. When he heard about the mysterious broadcast, he decided to investigate—not for views, but for curiosity. One cold night, Daniel entered the radio station with his recorder and headphones. Dust covered the equipment, and spider webs hung from the ceiling. Everything looked dead. Silent. At exactly 2:17 a.m., the old transmitter crackled. A voice broke through the static. “Hello… is anyone listening?” Daniel froze. The voice was calm but tired, like someone who had been waiting for a long time. “My name is Arthur,” the voice continued. “I used to work here. If you can hear me, please don’t turn this off.” Daniel whispered into his microphone, “I’m listening.” The voice seemed relieved. “For years, I spoke into this microphone, hoping someone would hear me. When the station shut down, everyone left. Everyone except me.” Daniel’s heart raced. “Are you… alive?” There was a pause. Then a soft laugh. “That depends on what you mean by alive,” Arthur said. “I passed away in this building many years ago. But my voice stayed. This place remembers me.” Arthur explained that he had been a late-night radio host, speaking to lonely people, travelers, and insomniacs. The night the station closed, he stayed behind to record one final message—something meaningful. But no one ever aired it. He died alone, with his words unheard. “So I kept talking,” Arthur said. “Night after night. Waiting for someone to listen.” Daniel felt a heavy silence fill the room. “What do you want from me?” Daniel asked. Arthur answered gently, “I don’t need fear. I don’t need fame. I just want my message to reach someone. Anyone.” Daniel nodded, even though Arthur couldn’t see him. “I’ll share your story.” For the first time, the static disappeared. Arthur’s voice became clear. “Tell them this,” he said. “You are not invisible. Someone, somewhere, needs your voice—even if you don’t know it yet.” The broadcast ended. The room fell silent. Daniel left the station before sunrise and spent the next day editing the audio. He uploaded the recording as a simple podcast episode titled *The Voice That Waited*. He didn’t add music. He didn’t add effects. Just the truth. Within days, thousands of messages poured in. People said the voice helped them through loneliness, grief, and dark nights. Some cried. Some found comfort. Some found hope. Daniel returned to the radio station one last time. At 2:17 a.m., there was no broadcast. The transmitter stayed silent. But Daniel smiled. Because he understood something important: Some voices don’t fade because they are loud. They survive because someone finally listens.
By Do bol ho jaaye 5 days ago in Horror
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