The Last Broadcast

On a cold October night in 1998, a small-town radio station in Kansas aired its final program. The station, WZRD-103, was a failing independent broadcaster—barely scraping by on static-filled weather updates and old rock ballads.

But at 11:59 p.m., a final message was transmitted.

Listeners across three states reported hearing the same thing: not music, not an ad, not even words.

It was a voice.

A broken, distorted whisper.

No one could make out the language at first. Some thought it was Latin, others claimed it was just garbled static. But one caller swore he recognized the words. He was a retired linguist, and his voice shook as he called into the station’s emergency line:

“This isn’t a broadcast. It’s a summoning.”

Within 24 hours, WZRD went dark. Forever.

The Vanishing

The next morning, the DJ scheduled for the overnight shift—Harold Greene—was nowhere to be found. His car sat in the parking lot. His coffee was still warm on the desk. The broadcast log ended with a half-written note:

“It’s not my voice anymore.”

When investigators reviewed the tape of the night’s program, the recording equipment had captured nothing but silence. Yet thousands of listeners insisted they heard it—some even claimed the whisper still echoed in their dreams.

By the end of the week, several of those listeners went missing.

One left behind a voicemail, breathing raggedly into the receiver:

“It’s calling me into the static.”

The Tape

The tape eventually found its way to a paranormal research team in 2003. They enhanced the audio, slowed it down, and managed to isolate the voice. What they uncovered made one of the researchers quit immediately.

The words weren’t human.

They were instructions.

Chanted over and over.

An invitation.

The last surviving researcher gave a chilling statement before he, too, disappeared:

“It wasn’t Harold broadcasting that night. The station became a mouthpiece. Something else was speaking through it.”

The Static Returns

For years, the legend of WZRD-103 was little more than local folklore, a ghost story told by teenagers daring each other to tune radios at midnight.

But last month, something terrifying happened.

A YouTuber doing a “creepy past broadcast” challenge tried to recreate the station’s old frequency using software-defined radio. When he live-streamed it, thousands of viewers swore they heard the whisper again.

The chat exploded. Some viewers claimed to hear their names being called. Others said the voice told them to “step outside.”

The video was deleted within hours.

And then the YouTuber vanished.

The Warning

If you ever find yourself scanning late-night radio and you hear whispers through the static—do not listen.

Turn it off immediately.

Because the last person who heard the broadcast wrote a single line in his journal before he disappeared:

“They are tuning us now.”