«Please come… Someone is whispering under my bed. I hear them, and I’m very scared,» her voice trembled.
The operator, who had worked in emergency services for over 12 years, was taken aback. «Where are your parents, Mia?»
«They don’t believe me… they say I’m making it up,» Mia responded, the fear evident in her voice. «But I hear it. I hear it again.»
The operator’s instincts kicked in. There was something unnerving about the girl’s tone. «We will send the police now. Stay on the line, okay?»
Ten minutes later, officers arrived at the house on the outskirts of town. The parents, clearly skeptical, greeted them at the door.
«What happened? Did Mia make something up again?» the father asked, exchanging a glance with his wife.
«We’re just going to check,» the sergeant replied calmly. «May we come in?»
Inside, Mia sat in the corner of her room, clutching her teddy bear, her eyes swollen from crying. She silently pointed to her bed, the pink blanket now crumpled. «The voices come from there…» she whispered.
One of the officers knelt down and looked under the bed. It was empty—just dust, a few fallen toys, and nothing suspicious.
«There’s nothing here,» he said, standing up. «Seems like someone has an overly vivid imagination. We’ll have to give the parents a warning for a false call.»
Just as the officers turned to leave, another officer raised his hand, signaling for silence. «Wait… Shh… No one make a sound.»
A deadly stillness filled the room. Even the parents in the hallway froze. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute. And then, just as Mia had described, a sound echoed from beneath the bed.
It was faint at first—barely audible. But then it grew clearer. It wasn’t a voice, but a sound like metal scraping against the floor, muffled by earth.
As if someone was… digging.
