My name is Alex and for the past eight years, I've been a nine
one one 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 on forgiving circumstances
that you endure through the night. Life at the corps enter 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 tethered
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 week day, 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 faced upon 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 there 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 autopiloted the opening words that I'd said a thousand
times over, 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 Oaken 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, and always possible 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 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 oaken Elm.
You can prevent a tragedy. Before I could respond, the line went
dead. I stared at the phone, my hands shaking. My thoughts are
whirlwind of confusion and fear. My instincts as a dispatcher urged me to treat
the call as the jittimate, but part of me couldn't help but question the
bizarre circumstances. With a deep breath, I decided to trust the voice and
dispatch the 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 leaped 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 traumatic 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. Should be hiding in the closet. Tell her to stay quiet and
send the police to address immediately. As I listened to the voice, my
emotions were whirling 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 second sticked by, I
felt a growing sense of unease. The tension in the room was palpable.
I glanced around at my colleagues, wondering if they were having as 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 and 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 in the line. Swallowing hard, I picked up the receiver and
braced myself for what was the come. Alex Alex the voice said, now,
sounding more urgent than ever. You need to leave the call center 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 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, that the evidence was impossible to ignore. I had to make a
decision, and I had to make it quickly. Feeling the way of responsibility
bearing down on me, I made my voice. 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.
Many protested, knowing how important the job was and to leave the center was
a huge endangerment to the people in need, But I just layered on the
urgency until they too 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 happen and 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. For most people were too much in shock to probe further than that.
But amidst the chaos and confusion, one thing became clear. I 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. A 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 had 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. And hereby building was rented and very quickly set up to
take dispatch of calls. It was necessity, so no expense was spared in
getting the set up 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 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
subverted, 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 and 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 and 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 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 neighbor 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 effect
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. Aalex
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 found my relationships with friends, family, and
co workers deteriorate, leaving me isolated and paranoid. As I continued to follow
the voices, instructions, and nagging doubt started to grow in the back of
my mind. I couldn't help a 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 had been occurring.
I had to dredge through many hoaxes, cracked pots with keyboards, and straight
up other worldly conspiracies. But during my search, I stumbled upon a concept
called tulper, the 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 center 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, and 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 and
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 new found 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 stated 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, realizing 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 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 on 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 tuber'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 faced my inner demons come real, and conquered them,
emerging stronger and more resilient than before. Your deal 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 writer
and more fulfilling future.