Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25073641-20150517180007

OPERATOR: 911, what's your emergency?

CALLER: Please come here now. I need your help, right now.

OPERATOR: Sir, calm down. What's you address?

CALLER: I don't remember well, but I think it's 4509 Elm Avenue. Please, come here faster.

OPERATOR: I'm sorry, but I can't go there. I'll just send police there to assist you with--

CALLER: No. You are the only one who can come here. I feel someone--

OPERATOR: Pardon me?

CALLER: I said come here now and rescue me. You're the only one who can save me. I feel someone is downstairs, but I don't know who. Please be quick!

OPERATOR: Is this a prank call? If this is--

CALLER: No, no, no! I'm not lying, this is a real emergency. I hear someone climbing up the stairs. I already locked my door, so I can--

OPERATOR: Wait sir, wait. So you're in 4509 Elm Avenue, describe your environment. We need it.

CALLER: I can't tell it. I don't know what's happening here. Someone is about to get me. Please, please, help--

OPERATOR: Sir, describe what the place looks like.

CALLER: I don't understand. When I looked out of the window, I see nothing, literally nothing. It's all black. I don't see the light posts, the trees, the road, the neighbor's houses, everything, and there's thick fog everywhere. The walls in my house have... um... nerves, human nerves, and they're hung on the walls. There's no electricity so it's dark here. All that I use are my ears and nose. Tell me, can you save me?

OPERATOR: What? Never mind, never mind, I don't know, but I'll try. If I can't, I'll send the pol--

CALLER: No, you must come here now before she gets me.

OPERATOR: I don't know what you're talking about. Is this really a prank--

CALLER: I already said no! Please, I beg you. Save [DOOR BANGS] me.

OPERATOR: What's that?

CALLER: Shit! She's here. I need to hide! [DISTORTED LAUGHTER]

OPERATOR: ...

CALLER: I'm now hiding under the bed. Please, quickly. No one can save me but you.

OPERATOR: Why?

CALLER: It doesn't matter, just save me, right now! [DOOR CREAKS] Oh my god, she's already opened the fucking door. Faster!

OPERATOR: I can't. I'll just send police there.

CALLER: [LOUD FOOTSTEPS] Damn! She's here... Man, move your ass. I don't want to die now. The floors already covered in blood, and her feet is also covered in blood. I see a bright, red light coming from the door, but I don't know what it is.

OPERATOR: What?! Please, stay there. Okay, I'll send the police, and I'll guide them there.

CALLER: No, it's too late: She has seen me, and she's now walking towards the bed. Oh no, god, spare me.

OPERATOR: Hide somewhere else. We'll come there soon.

CALLER: Shit! No! No! Stay away! Leave me alone, please, please, I beg you. [GIRL'S VOICE: I just want you to play with me.] [CALLER SCREAMS] [CHOKING NOISES]

[GIRL'S VOICE: John, come on, join my tea party.] [DRAGGING NOISES]

OPERATOR: Shit! Sir, are you there? Sir? Sir, speak! Damn, the call's cut.

[CALL ENDS]

I'm Gary Freeman, the operator who had received the strange 911 call. It was a very scary experience, and all I heard scarred me for life.

Now, I will tell you the story after that so-called haunted 911 call.

A day after receiving the call, I temporarily left my duty as an operator, and went to the address the man named "John" told. Surprisingly, it was just a few miles away from the police station.

I cruised around the city and searched for the address. No one was able to point out where it is, but an old man was able to tell me where it was. As I stepped out of my car, I already knew something was wrong.

The house standing on that address was obviously abandoned, the scrapped and dirty walls and dusty untouched floors proving it. When I entered the house, furniture covered in dust and thick dirt greeted me. The place appeared like it was abandoned for a long time, and left to deteriorate by its owners. It looked like it was abandoned abruptly.

Without further pause, I headed to the kitchen, only to see something that genuinely disturbed me. On the table were plastic tea cups and plastic tea pots, and a few dolls dirtied by dust and cobwebs were sitting on chairs. I remembered how the call ended, as the girl on the call said, "John, come on, join my tea party." So, I thought to myself, everything was true after all. I picked a tea pot up, and shook it, and I noticed there's still contents. I sniffed it, and I was thrown to the floor by the revolting smell. It had the smell of an old poison, something like that.

Climbing up the stairs, I noticed an odd stain on the steps. A reddish-brown trail leading to the kitchen I went before was there. This proved that someone dead was dragged down there.

Next, I went to the upper floor, searching for the bedrooms. Oddly, there was only one bedroom, as all the other doors were locked. When I entered the only unlocked door, a foul, revolting smell rushed into my nostrils. I couldn't describe it, it was all too disgusting for me, like the smell of blood.

I looked all over the place, and I encountered the same stain on the floor. The place looked generally unpleasant, with the walls almost destroyed by large, branching cracks, and almost the entire floor covered in the same stain. I found it, however, terrifying, because I thought everything was false before. Everything I saw opened my eyes to the truth.

The bed was still sitting there, and when I looked under it, John's phone was there. The screen was cracked broken, and it had red stains, obviously created by John's bloodied hands. Luckily, the memory card was still there, but the SIM card was already rendered irrecoverable. So, I picked the memory card, and put it inside a small plastic bag. I drove back home then.

In my surprise, when I inserted the memory card in my phone, it was still working. My only plan was to look for evidences that would prove that what I heard was true.

I was not disappointed by what I discovered. It was worth my waste of time.

I looked through the gallery, and all I saw was 18 pictures of children lying on the floor, covered in blood, dead. The last picture was somewhat familiar, a girl murdered beside a table full of plastic cups and pots. Some pictures were slightly blurry, so only a few victims were identifiable.

But what I discovered made me almost cry. The dates on the pictures were between June and September, in the year 2003, eight years from this current year. This proved that John called me from the past.

That were the only things I knew. All the other information John told me was left unsolved in the shadows of mystery. Anyways, I wanted to forget about it, and to suppress my paranoia, I retired from my job, and stayed in the house for some days, thinking about the phone call that kept me awake for weeks.

After few weeks of rest and relaxation, I went to the local library, and asked for news clips regarding the murder. My luck strikes again, and I found a box full of newspapers from the year 2003. It took me a few minutes searching for it, until I finally found it.

The full name of the killer was John Howard Adams, a patient who escaped from Creedmoor Psychiatric Center somewhere in New York. It was said that he had severe schizophrenia and Asperger's, and his brain was almost not functioning properly, pointing out his childish behavior towards people and extreme desire for blood. Reading the second paragraph of the article, I found out that John had killed 18 street children, most of them girls. It was also said that only one child had escaped from him, but the child's identity was unknown.

His plan was to lure them by saying that he would bring the child victim to his house and play a tea party. With the child unaware, he would poison the tea, and he would ask the children to drink first. The child would twitch and fall on the floor because of the poison and he would totally kill the child by stabbing the child in the heart.

The bodies then went missing, assuming John hid it somewhere in his house, or buried it under the ground. However, it was just mere assumptions, and the latter were unconfirmed nor denied up to this day. The only body found was the body of Janette Brooks Freeman, a 11-year old street child. Her body was found beside the table in the kitchen I told before, and John's body was found lying beside her body, slitted on the throat and died due to blood loss. It was then assumed that he committed suicide after the crime, but the blood trails starting from the bedroom leading to the kitchen made the police suspicious, forcing them to rule a double murder. However, it was proven false by a witness, who was John's neighbor by the time, saying that no one went out of the house after the murder, and she was not aware of his evil deeds. I still couldn't explain how they hadn't find the phone.

The details I found concluded, John took a picture of Janette's dead body, then Janette's soul's manifestation killed John by slitting his neck, and by dragging him down the kitchen. These were the only things I could connect.

Currently, the case is closed and unsolved. I have no plans of submitting the 911 call to the PD as an evidence, but I don't know what my fellow officers will do with that thing. Hopefully, they don't hear a thing about that.

People don't know the truth. I must hide it. They must not know it. A secret must remain a secret. 