CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "I'm a 911 Dispatcher, and I Just Received a Call from My Own Number" Creepypasta

Episode Date: May 23, 2023

CREEPYPASTA STORY►by Frequent-Cat: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comm... Creepypastas are the campfire tales of the internet. Horror stories spread through Reddit r/nosleep, forums and blogs, rather than word of mouth. Whether you believe these scary stories to be true or not is left to your own discretion and imagination. LISTEN TO CREEPYPASTAS ON THE GO- SPOTIFY► https://open.spotify.com/show/7l0iRPd... iTUNES► https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast... SUGGESTED CREEPYPASTA PLAYLISTS- ►"Good Places to Start"- • "I wasn't careful... ►"Personal Favourites"- • "I sold my soul f... ►"Written by me"- • "I've been Blind ... ►"Long Stories"- • Long Stories FOLLOW ME ON- ►Twitter: https://twitter.com/Creeps_McPasta ►Instagram: https://instagram.com/creepsmcpasta/ ►Twitch: http://www.twitch.tv/creepsmcpasta ►Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/CreepsMcPasta CREEPYPASTA MUSIC/ SFX- ►http://bit.ly/Audionic ♪ ►http://bit.ly/Myuusic ♪ ►http://bit.ly/incompt ♪ ►http://bit.ly/EpidemicM ♪ This creepypasta is for entertainment purposes only

My name is Alex, and for the past eight years, I've been a 911 dispatcher. I worked tirelessly in a dimly lit room filled with glowing screens, buzzing equipment, and low chatter. Nearly every day I sit at my station wearing a headset that connects me to the voices of those in need. Working as a dispatcher has changed me, though. After handling countless emergency calls, you develop. a certain level of emotional resilience. You have to. There's no room for panic or hesitation when someone's life is on the line.

I've heard the fear in people's voices, the desperation, the terror. I've listened to the last words, sent help racing to the location, and done everything in my power to keep them calm until help arrives. It's a heavy burden to bear. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Still though, it can get to you. Leave you in a dour mindset at the end of a night. Night spent drinking to forget some of the more unforgiving circumstances that you endure

through the night. Life at the core centre has become a sort of second home for me. I form close bonds with my fellow dispatchers, sharing stories, laughter and tears during our long shifts together. We've become a tight-knit family. supporting each other through the emotional highs and lows that come with a job. It's a demanding career, one that often leaves me feeling physically and emotionally drained at the end of a shift.

But, as I lay my head down to rest each night, I find solace in the knowledge that I've made a difference in the lives of those who needed me most. Sometimes it feels like a thankless job, one where I just tether the right people to whoever's in trouble. but at times I get to be the voice that stays on the line during a traumatic moment which spurs me on. I remember it was a cold, rainy night in October when I received the strangest call of my career. My shift had started as usual. It was a weekday, so the first few hours had been relatively quiet. I just settled in with a fresh cup of coffee, and the phone rang.

glancing at the caller ID, I was confused that it was coming from my own number. I tapped my phone which was face up on my desk to see it was idle on the lock screen, no pocket dial going out, despite it being impossible anyway. So I hesitated for a moment before answering the call. As I picked up the call, my mind raised with thoughts of why that would happen. Maybe it was a similar number. off by one digit that I'd misread at a glance or a simple mistake on the system. Either way, my mouth autopilited the opening words that I'd said a thousand times over.

911, what is your emergency? The voice on the other end of the line was unmistakably mine, which sent a chill down my spine. It was full of fear and panic. Alex, I needed to listen to me. I don't have much time. There's going to be an accident on the corner of Oak and Elm in ten minutes. You have to warn the authorities and get them there before it happens.

Lives are at stake. I was dumbfounded. The voice sounded so much like my own that it was impossible to believe it could be anyone else. As the fear in the voice gripped me, I felt my own fear rising. I knew I couldn't afford to let it cloud my own. judgment though. Maintaining composure was a core part of the job.

Who is this? I asked hesitantly. Just trust me, Alex, the voice implored. You'll understand later. Please, just send help to Oak and Elm. You can prevent a tragedy. Before I could respond, the line went dead. I stared at the phone, my hands shaking, and my thoughts are whirlwind of confusion and fear. My instincts as a dispatcher urged me to treat the call as legitimate, but part of me couldn't help but question the bizarre circumstances. With a deep breath, I decided to trust the voice and dispatched emergency services to the intersection. As I did, I couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort. It only just hit me that he knew my name, adding more to the pile of mysteries.

I anxiously awaited an update from the responders, hoping beyond hope that I had made the right choice. When the radio crackled to life, confirming that a major accident had indeed occurred at the exact location in time the voice had predicted, my heart dropped. I was flooded with relief that I had taken the warning seriously, but at the same time, the sense of dread gnawed at me. If the voice had been right about the accident, what else did it know? Just as I was beginning to process the implications of the first call, the phone rang again. My heart leapt into my throat as I saw my own number displayed once more. The fear and anxiety that had been building within me threatened to overtake me, but I knew that I couldn't let it.

I'd been witnessed to so many dramatic calls that I had a strong resolve, and I pulled on that experience to push me to do my job, despite the horrendously terrifying situation. With a trembling hand, I picked up the call, praying for answers, and stealing myself for whatever came next. Alex, the voice urgently whispered, I know you're scared, and I know this is difficult to believe, but you have to trust. me. There's a woman named Sarah who will call you in exactly three minutes. Her abusive ex-boyfriend is trying to break into her apartment. She'll be hiding in the closet. Tell her to stay quiet and send the police to her address immediately. As I listened to the voice, my emotions were a swirling tempest of disbelief and concern. I was terrified by the unexplainable connection I seemed to share with this caller. But at the same time, I couldn't ignore the fact

that if the first call was legitimate, then there were potential lives at stake. I felt an immense pressure to make the right decision. Who are you? I asked again, my voice wavering. How do you know all this? I can't explain everything right now, but I promise you'll understand soon. The voice replied, a hint of desperation creeping in, almost matching my own. Please, just trust me. Once again, the line went dead, leaving me with nothing but my racing thoughts and the dull hum of the call center around me. As the seconds ticked by, I felt a growing sense of unease, the tension in the room almost palpable.

I glanced around at my colleagues, wondering if they were having a similar experience as me. After the longest three minutes of my life, just as the voice had predicted, Sarah's call came through. Her panicked voice echoed in my ear, and I knew that I couldn't ignore the warning I'd been given. I guided Sarah through the terrifying ordeal, keeping her calm as I dispatched the police to a location. All the while, my own emotions threatened to bubble to the surface.

A strange sense of connection to this woman I'd never met. When I received the confirmation that Sarah had been safely rescued and her ex-boyfriend apprehended, a wave of relief washed over me. But that relief was short-lived, as the weight of the situation continued to bear down on me. The voice in the phone had known these events would happen, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to come. It wasn't long before the third call came. My heart was leaping as my own number appeared on the screen once more.

I hesitated for a moment, my hand hovering over the phone. I felt a deep sense of dread which screamed at me to tear my hand away. But I couldn't ignore the call, not when lives were potentially on the line. Swallowing hard, I picked up the receiver and braced myself for what was to come. Alex? Alex, the voice said, now sounding more urgent than ever. You need to leave the core centre right now. There's a gas leak in the building.

It's going to explode in less than five minutes. You have to get everyone out. My blood ran cold as the gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Everything that had been building within me throughout the night threatened to overwhelm me. But I knew I couldn't let it. I had to act quick. How do you know this? I demanded my voice trembling.

Who are you? The voice, now frantic, replied, Don't freak out, Alex. There isn't time. I'm you. I'm calling from the future. I know this is hard to believe, but you have to trust me. There's no time to explain. You need to evacuate the building right now. My mind raised as I tried to process what I was hearing. Was it really possible that I was speaking to myself from the future? The notion seemed too surreal to be true, yet the evidence was impossible to ignore.

I had to make a decision, and I had to make it quickly. Feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on me, I made my choice. I slammed down the receiver and jumped to my feet, my heart pounding as I rushed to alert my colleagues. With a frantic and confused evacuation, hailed by constant questions from everyone moving past me, I was too deep in thought to explain anything to them. protested, knowing how important the job was, and to leave the centre was a huge endangerment to the people in need.

But I just layered on the urgency until they two left. We barely made it out in time. As we watched from a safe distance, the building was engulfed in flames, the explosion shaking the very ground beneath our feet. I stood there, my fellow dispatchers huddled around me, their faces etched with shock. and relief. As the reality of what had just happened began to sank in, I found myself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. Relief that we had all escaped unharmed, gratitude to the voice that had warned me, and a lingering sense of disbelief that I had truly been communicating

with my future self. When asked how I knew what was going to happen, I gave some half-hearted response about smelling something, but most people were too much in shock to probe further than that. But amidst the chaos and confusion, one thing became clear. I had been given a gift, a chance to change the course of my life and the lives of those around me, and I knew I couldn't let that gift go to waste. In the days that followed the explosion, I found myself consumed by the events that had transpired. The voice on the phone, my own voice, had saved countless lives, including my own. And although I struggled to wrap my head around the concept of communicating with my future self,

I couldn't deny the reality of what had happened. As I tried to come to terms with the situation, I realized that the knowledge I'd gained could be both a blessing and a curse. I was suddenly faced with the daunting responsibility of this secret knowledge and I couldn't shake the feeling that every decision I made could have life-altering consequences. The weight of that responsibility felt like an immense burden. But I couldn't let my fear hold me back. I knew that I potentially had a unique opportunity to make a difference

to help those who needed it most. And so, with each passing day, I found myself more determined than ever to trust the voice and see if I can use these calls for good. A nearby building was rented and very quickly set up to take dispatcher calls. It was necessity, so no expense was spared in getting the setup expedited. I dove head first into my work, answering calls with a renewed sense of purpose and urgency. I kept a close eye on the caller ID, always saw. anticipating the next mysterious call from my future self. And when those calls came, I heeded

their warnings without hesitation, trusting my own voice to guide me. I found myself constantly on edge. I felt a deep sense of loneliness, knowing that I couldn't share my secret with anyone, not even my closest colleagues. As the days turned into weeks, I began to see the impact of my actions. Lives were saved. Tragedies averting. and hope restored. And with each success, I found my confidence growing, my fears slowly giving way to a sense of pride and accomplishment. I knew that I was walking a fine line,

playing with forces that I couldn't fully understand. But in my heart, I believed that I was doing the right thing. No one suspected anything. Often the dispatcher is simply the bridge between the caller and the services. So, it was easy to think that it was a coincidence that I had simply been the one to pick up the phone. As I continued to heed the warnings from my stranger self, I came to understand that the greatest power I possessed wasn't the ability to predict the future or change the course of events. Rather, it was the power of choice, the choice to trust an urgent voice, to embrace the unknown.

One night, as I sat at my station, the phone rang. once again, this time displaying an unknown number. I read it in anticipation as I picked up the receiver. The voice on the other end was familiar, but off as if it wasn't quite human. Alex, the voice growled. You've grown complacent. There's a terrible future ahead of you. I've seen it, and you must prevent it.

Dread washed over me. my mind racing as I tried to figure what was happening this time. Was this another version of myself? I listened cautiously as the voice continued. Over the course of several calls, the voice provided cryptic warnings and riddles, each one hinting at a potential disaster or tragedy that I needed to avert. At first, the instructions seemed relatively benign.

In the first call, the voice said, told me about an argument that was about to take place between two of my close friends, which would lead to the end of their friendship. It gave me the exact time and location to intervene and mediate the conflict. I hesitantly followed the instructions, and to my surprise, I managed to prevent the fallout between them. The second call, the voice directed me to leave an anonymous tip to the police about an elderly neighbour who was at risk of a gas leak in a home. The voice claimed that if I didn't act, she would suffer a terrible accident. I wrestled with the decision, but eventually decided to make the call.

The next day, I found out that the police had indeed discovered a gas leak in a home and had it repaired just in time. As the calls continued, the voice's aggression and demands began to escalate. It instructed me to break into a co-worker's home to find evidence of a conspiracy plot convincing me that the co-worker was planning something malicious that would affect many people. Reluctantly, I obliged, only to find seemingly inconclusive evidence, which made me question my actions and the tips I was getting. The next call pushed me further,

urging me to sabotage the brakes of a car to prevent an accident that would lead to a catastrophic chain reaction. Each instruction was darker than the last, leaving me increasingly lost compared to the first Alex that was calling me. Still though, there was a chance that I was still doing good. The glimmer of hope sparked by the many calls still stuck in my heart. Fearing the consequences of not heeding the warnings, I began to follow the voice's instructions to the letter, even when they involved morally questionable actions. As I did, I felt my relationships with friends, family and co-workers deteriorate, leaving me isolated and paranoid.

As I continued to follow the voice's instructions, a nagging doubt started to grow in the back of my mind. I couldn't help but question whether the voice was genuinely another version myself or something more sinister. The line between right and wrong had been blurred, and I struggled to make sense of the chaos that had enveloped my life. Feeling increasingly lost and desperate, I decided to do some research, hoping to find answers or any explanation for the bizarre events that have been occurring. I had to dredge through many hoaxes, crackpots with keyboards, and straight-up otherworldly conspiracies. But during my search, I stumbled upon a concept called Tulper, a sentient being created from the collective thoughts, beliefs and energy of its creator.

According to the information I found, a tulper can become powerful and independent, even capable of interacting with the physical world. The more I read, the more I became convinced that the voice on the phone was a tulper. I had inadvertently created. My loneliness and the emotional turmoil of working in the emergency dispatcher centre had given birth to this entity, which had begun to take on a life of its own, something that had been masquerading as my future self all along. It had been using me as a pawn to create scenarios that brought suffering, feeding on the emotional highs and lows it had caused. With this revelation, I knew I had to take control of the situation and reclaim my life. I understood that it fed on my fear, despair and loneliness, so I had to face my emotions and confront the entity head on.

I waited for the next call. My anxiety was through the roof as I prepared to confront it, though now for different reasons. When the phone rang, I answered it without hesitation, asserting my newfound determination. I know what you are, I told the voice firmly, and I won't let you control me any longer. It laughed, attempting to undermine my resolve. You think you can just get rid of me, Alex. I'm part of you, you know, I steaded my voice, focusing on Stain Strong.

I created you and I can unmake you. I won't let you hurt anyone else. I hung up and carried on through my shift with a forced composure. Realising that I had to weaken it by depriving it of the negative emotions it fed upon, I began to reconnect with friends and family, rebuilding the relationships I had neglected while under this thing's influence. I saw a professional help to cope with the emotional stress and loneliness I had experienced as a result of my job. Over time, the callless power

waned. The scenarios it called in were more and more mundane, until all it could conjure was a cat stuck in a tree. As I continued to cultivate positive connections and emotions, its voice grew weaker with each call, as it became increasingly desperate to maintain its grip by me. I knew that I had to sever the connection completely to put an end to its existence. One night, I received the final call from my number. I faced it with a sense of calm and determination. This is the end, I told the voice firmly. I've taken back control of my life and you no longer have power over me. The Tulper's voice faded into a whisper. Its existence flickering on the edge of oblivion.

You can't do this. But I had already made my choice. Goodbye, I said, and hung up the phone for the last time. From then on, it was gone, banished from my life forever. I face my inner demons come real and conquered them, emerging stronger and more resilient than before. The ordeal had taught. me valuable lessons about the power of emotions and the importance of staying connected with the people I cared about.

As I moved forward with my life, I carried the lessons I had learned with me, determined to use them to shape a brighter and more fulfilling future.