The Frequency of the Future

The static on my grandfather's radio didn't just crackle; it whispered my name.

It whispered three seconds before I even walked into the room. It is a

rhythmic, low-frequency hum that seems to broadcast the immediate future with terrifying precision.

I heard the sound of my glass shattering before my hand even slipped.

And I felt the cold splash of water on my socks while the cup was

still full. If you are enjoying this mystery, follow and like for more.

Now, the broadcast has shifted to a frantic, wet breathing sound.

It isn't coming from the speakers but from the empty hallway behind me.