The Last Broadcast – A Radio Station Airs Voices of the Dead

The Last Broadcast – A Radio Station Airs Voices of the Dead

Introduction

In the quiet hours between midnight and dawn, when the world is draped in silence, radio waves carry more than just music and static. Some say they transmit voices from beyond the grave. "The Last Broadcast" is a chilling tale of a local radio station that unknowingly becomes a conduit for the dead—where the late-night DJ realizes too late that his listeners aren’t among the living.

This story blends psychological horror with supernatural dread, perfect for fans of "The Conjuring" and "Pontypool." If you’ve ever tuned into an eerie late-night radio show, this story will make you question what—or who—might be broadcasting back.

Chapter 1: Static and Whispers

The Midnight Shift

James Carter, a struggling radio host, takes the graveyard shift at WLRD 98.7 FM, a small-town station known for its vintage vinyl and call-in segments. One foggy October night, he notices something strange—the usual static between songs carries faint, garbled voices.

At first, he dismisses it as interference. But then, a distinct whisper cuts through:

"James… we hear you."

The First Caller

A woman named Eleanor calls in, requesting a love song from 1942—a song James can’t find in the station’s archives. Her voice crackles like an old recording. When he asks for details, she replies:

"Play it before sunrise… or we’ll play something for you."

The line goes dead.

The Disappearing Request

The next morning, James checks the call logs—no record of Eleanor’s call exists.

Chapter 2: Voices from the Void

The Dead Airtime

Over the next few nights, more unsettling calls flood in:

A child singing a nursery rhyme in reverse.

A man sobbing about a car crash that hasn’t happened yet.

A woman reciting names—all of whom James later discovers died in local tragedies.

The Engineer’s Warning

The station’s elderly technician, Frank, pulls James aside:

"This station was built on an old asylum’s burial ground. Sometimes… things bleed through."

James laughs it off—until Frank vanishes the next day, leaving behind only a decaying 1930s microphone in the equipment room.

Chapter 3: The Final Transmission

The Truth Revealed

Digging through archives, James learns WLRD’s original tower was a WWII-era military radio used to contact lost soldiers. Dozens of test broadcasts ended in madness, with operators reporting "ghost frequencies."

That night, the station’s power cuts out—yet the broadcast continues. A chorus of voices floods the airwaves:

"You’re live… with the dead."

The Last Song

James tries to shut it down, but the controls won’t respond. The studio fills with freezing air as spectral figures materialize. The final caller, a voice he recognizes as Frank, whispers:

"You’re one of us now."

At dawn, the station goes silent. Listeners report hearing James scream before the signal died.

When investigators arrive, they find the studio frozen in time—dusty, decaying, as if abandoned for decades. The only clue? A vinyl spinning endlessly, playing Eleanor’s 1942 love song.

Conclusion: The Frequency of Fear

"The Last Broadcast" taps into primal fears—abandoned airwaves, voices without bodies, and technology hijacked by the supernatural. It begs the question: If the dead could speak, would we dare listen?

Conclusion: The Frequency of Fear

"The Last Broadcast" taps into primal fears—abandoned airwaves, voices without bodies, and technology hijacked by the supernatural. It begs the question: If the dead could speak, would we dare listen?

"The Last Broadcast" taps into primal fears—abandoned airwaves, voices without bodies, and technology hijacked by the supernatural. It begs the question: If the dead could speak, would we dare listen?