Whispers in the Static
When a struggling radio operator in a remote town picks up a strange transmission, he uncovers a truth that could change humanity — if anyone would believe him.
Miles Harper had spent most of his life hunched over a dusty radio console in the forgotten town of Elridge Point, where fog rolled thicker than crowds, and the nights felt heavier than silence itself.
On a night like any other, as rain tapped against the windows and the old radio hissed with static, Miles caught something—
a pattern.
At first, he thought it was a glitch: short, rhythmic bursts hidden deep inside the white noise. But when he slowed it down and isolated the sound, it became something else entirely.
A voice.
"... we see you... we remember... we return..."
Miles stared at the console, heart hammering. He checked every frequency, every broadcast schedule. No known station was transmitting at that wavelength.
The next night, he heard it again. This time, the voice was clearer, almost sad:
"We have always been here."
He tried recording it. Nothing but static. He tried calling others in town. No one picked up.
Outside, through the rain, Miles thought he saw a figure standing motionless at the end of the street, watching. He blinked, and it was gone.
Sleep became impossible. Every night, the messages grew longer.
Memories surfaced — half-forgotten tales his grandfather used to mutter after too many drinks:
“Not all things that fall from the sky leave a crater.”
“Some just walk among us.”
One night, unable to bear the uncertainty, Miles responded.
In a shaky voice, he spoke into the mic:
"Who are you?"
The static twisted, cracked — then whispered back:
"Look inside."
The lights in the station flickered. Miles backed away, fear pooling in his chest.
Slowly, mechanically, he looked up.
In the cracked mirror above the console, something moved behind his reflection — a shimmer, like a second silhouette just out of phase with reality.
The broadcast ended. The town returned to silence.
No one ever saw Miles again.
Elridge Point faded further from the maps, until it was nothing but a name spoken in forgotten radio channels.
But if you tune your radio just right,
on a rainy night,
you might still hear the static whispering:
"We see you."
On a night like any other, as rain tapped against the windows and the old radio hissed with static, Miles caught something—
a pattern.
At first, he thought it was a glitch: short, rhythmic bursts hidden deep inside the white noise. But when he slowed it down and isolated the sound, it became something else entirely.
A voice.
"... we see you... we remember... we return..."
Miles stared at the console, heart hammering. He checked every frequency, every broadcast schedule. No known station was transmitting at that wavelength.
The next night, he heard it again. This time, the voice was clearer, almost sad:
"We have always been here."
He tried recording it. Nothing but static. He tried calling others in town. No one picked up.
Outside, through the rain, Miles thought he saw a figure standing motionless at the end of the street, watching. He blinked, and it was gone.
Sleep became impossible. Every night, the messages grew longer.
Memories surfaced — half-forgotten tales his grandfather used to mutter after too many drinks:
“Not all things that fall from the sky leave a crater.”
“Some just walk among us.”
One night, unable to bear the uncertainty, Miles responded.
In a shaky voice, he spoke into the mic:
"Who are you?"
The static twisted, cracked — then whispered back:
"Look inside."
The lights in the station flickered. Miles backed away, fear pooling in his chest.
Slowly, mechanically, he looked up.
In the cracked mirror above the console, something moved behind his reflection — a shimmer, like a second silhouette just out of phase with reality.
The broadcast ended. The town returned to silence.
No one ever saw Miles again.
Elridge Point faded further from the maps, until it was nothing but a name spoken in forgotten radio channels.
But if you tune your radio just right,
on a rainy night,
you might still hear the static whispering:
"We see you."
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