Julia leaned closer to the antique Zenith counter-top radio she inherited from her grandmother. It worked perfectly, except for one station -- 91.1.
"Huh," Julia said to herself as she listened to static, with intermittent mumbling.
The station usually played classical music.
"Antenna must be down," she said to herself.
She shut the radio off and finished washing dishes.
As she wiped down the counter, the radio blared static.
"Shit!" Julia exclaimed.
She quickly shut off the radio and glared at it.
Rain began to pour outside her kitchen window, drenching her country yard and preventing her plans of completing yard work.
She shrugged and sat down to finish her day off with an evening of Lifetime television.
After an unsettling night of thunder and lightning, Julia rolled out of bed at 5 a.m.
Through the semi-darkness out her kitchen window, Julia caught sight of puddles in her yard.
She sighed. Yardwork would definitely have to wait now.
|"Juliaaaaaahhhhhh," a voice whispered from the speaker.|
"Damn it!" Julia swore as her grandmother's radio again roared to life with static.
As she reached to turn it off, she heard something disturbing.
"Juliaaaaahhhhhh," a voice whispered from the speaker.
Her hand hung in midair as she stared at the Zenith. She quickly clicked the knob to off. And unplugged the machine for good measure.
After a quick shower, she padded back into the kitchen and dried her hair with a towel.
The phone rang.
"Jeez," she said, catching her breath. "Hello?"
Julia's mother cheerily greeted her, but quickly asked what was wrong.
"Grandma's radio keeps turning on by itself," Julia said. "And a voice just whispered my name over the speaker."
Julia's mother laughed and said she must be working too hard.
Julia tried to laugh it off, but couldn't. Something was wrong.
She walked slowly past the radio, expecting it to turn on.
"Seriously, Jules," she said, shaking her head.
But she stopped in her tracks when she heard, "Heeeeelp meeeee," followed by light static.
Julia turned around to find the radio still unplugged, but the dial was lit up to 91.1.
"Okay," Julia said slowly. "What's going on?"
The radio's light went out.
Julia went to work early.
After a thoroughly unproductive day, Julia slowly drove home, thinking of her grandmother's radio.
I must be crazy, she thought.
As she drove up the road to her lonely country house, a usually welcome sight caught her attention.
The old chicken coop she'd turned into a guest house seemed too forlorn sitting 40 feet from the main house. No, foreboding.
She parked her Jeep and crunched her way down the gravel to the guest house.
It's cute white exterior with bright red shutters and front door seemed less cheerful.
Julia let herself in with a spare key, which she set on the kitchen counter -- next to her grandmother's Zenith radio.
Not a question. A statement.
No one else had a key to the guest house but Julia. Not even Julia's mom had a key.
"How the hell did you get in here?" Julia asked as she picked up the radio and examined it.
As an answer, the Zenith lit up and a light static greeted Julia. She held it up to her ear and heard whispers.
Julia nearly dropped the radio when the floorboards seemed to quiver.
She quickly set down the radio and opened the trap door to a crawl space. She hopped down to the damp hole usually only seen by her plumber.
She had to get down on her hands and knees to see anything, but when her eyes adjusted, Julia stifled a scream.
Dead eyes stared at her from a loosely tied black garbage bag.
Julia scrambled out of the crawl space, slammed the trap door and grabbed the key from the counter.
The Zenith radio was gone.
"What the hell!" Julia swore and ran out leaving the guest house door wide open.
Bursting into her main house, Julia grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
The line only gave her static and a small voice.
"Get. Out. Xxxxsssshhh. Too. Late."
Julia stared at the phone. She screamed as she was grabbed from behind, the Zenith blared static and everything went black.
Julia's mother pulled in for a visit that evening, unexpectedly, but only found her mother's Zenith counter-top radio blaring static as a greeting.
"Mooooooommmm..." whispered a voice.