🎙️ Introduction
It began as just another repair job.
Mark L., a 34-year-old radio technician from Himachal Pradesh, was called to fix an old analog radio in a farmhouse on the outskirts of town. The radio belonged to an elderly couple who said it had “started working again after 15 years” — even though it hadn’t been plugged in.
At first, Mark thought it was just a loose connection or perhaps battery corrosion.
But the moment he switched it on, the room filled with static — and a voice.
📻 “Please… Still Here”
The voice didn’t sound like a broadcast. It was too close. Too broken.
Three words repeated in a crackling loop:
“Please… still here…”
The couple said they’d been hearing it for over a week. It would only play between 3:00 and 3:15 a.m., always the same words.
Mark checked everything — no batteries, no power source. The antenna wasn’t even functional. He took it back to his shop, intending to disassemble it the next day.
But that night, at 3:07 a.m., the voice returned.
🧊 The Voice Knows My Name
Mark documented the experience in his private audio journal, which was later found on a USB stick by his brother. In the final entry, his voice is shaky:
“It said my name tonight. ‘Mark… please… still here.’ I thought I imagined it. I rewound the tape. It’s on there. It’s not a broadcast. It’s talking to me.”
The next day, he told his friend he was going back to the farmhouse to return the radio and ask more questions. He never came home.
🕯️ The Disappearance
His car was found parked outside the farmhouse. The doors unlocked. Keys in the ignition.
Inside the house — no sign of the elderly couple. Plates were still on the table, as if they had just been eating. No IDs, no photos, no documents. Just one thing was left:
The radio.
Still on.
Still playing static.
When the police took it in for evidence, the radio never played the voice again.
But Mark’s brother claims he still hears it sometimes — when his phone has no signal, or his Bluetooth speaker glitches.
🕳️ Conclusion: Unexplained and Unrecorded
Mark’s case was closed as a missing person. The couple was never identified — the rental records to the farmhouse turned out to be forged. There were no fingerprints inside the house except Mark’s.
To this day, his USB audio journal is the only remaining evidence. The file was uploaded once to Reddit, but mysteriously flagged and removed.
The voice in the static is gone. But if you ever hear a faint “please… still here…” on an old FM band…
don’t answer it.
