The Forest in Appalachia Remembered Her Face and Followed Her Home

Voices in the Static

Mike had been recording the weird interference on his car radio, just in case. At first, it was only crackling. Then tones. Then, clicks that sounded like breathing. But last night, he played a file for Harper that made her stomach drop. A faint voice whispered her name.

“Harrrrper.” It said, as if trying it on the taste of her name. “Don’t run.” Then her name again. Then silence. She deleted the file. Mike swore he heard it again in the shower drain. In the microwave hum. In the white noise before sleep. Harper unplugged every device she owned. And still, the whispers came.

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