I know what you’re thinking - who gives a shit about AM radio, anyways?

And up until a few months ago, I would’ve agreed with you.

But then something happened.

I think it was a weird feeling of morbid curiosity, beyond anything else. I’ve always loved the radio, and I still had a few local FM radio staples that I listened to frequently. It was almost like a ritual for me to settle down in my room in the evening, grab a drink, and put on some classic rock at 105.9 FM.

One night, out of boredom more than anything else, I switched my alarm clock radio settings to ‘AM’ and starting switching between the stations. Most of what I heard was a bunch of static in between talk radio stations. Felt like I was wasting my time. But I kept going - felt like if I tried hard enough, I could maybe find some sort of gem of a station.

I turned the radio dial to its very fringes, and at the absolute edge of accessible AM channels, I started hearing a whisper in between the static. It took a few minutes to get the station quite right. It was so hard to hear clearly that it almost felt like the station was keeping itself hidden or something.

But I was now there. Listening intently to this weird, hidden, whispery station.

“How do you have fun, stranger?” was the voice from the radio, whispered yet croaky.

Strange. It felt like it was the start of a monologue, so I waited for a follow-up. Instead, silence for a minute. Then…

“Well?” the voice followed up.

I laughed. It felt like this station was maybe all about playing a prank on the listener or something. Just to play along, I followed up with something stupid.

“Getting laid, I guess!” I said half-jokingly at the radio. I knew it was a bit crazy, but I wanted to commit to the bit.

About another minute of silence. And then…

“Thank you for trusting me with your secret.” came the voice from the radio.

Huh. I kind of shrugged it off and thought “You’re welcome” in my head, but I left it there.

I kept listening after that, but it was a bunch of very incomprehensible whispering. Almost felt like it was in some sort of other language. I eventually tuned it out and went back to my standard evening ritual.

A few days passed, and I thought... what the hell?

I switched the radio back to AM, spent that agonizing few minutes getting the dial juuuuuust right, and returned to the station with the croaky whispering.

Something strange happened. It’s almost like, when I fully tuned in, the speaker on the other side was aware. Almost immediately, he stopped his whispering, and there was silence coming from the radio. And then…

“Hello friend, do you want to know how I have fun?”

Hahaha. What? Uhm. “Yes, I’d love to know how you have fun” I said to my clock radio, more formally than I anticipated. Silence. Then...

“Can I trust you with my secret?” the voice asked.

I was still weirdly convinced this whole thing was pre-recorded or something. There was always a good amount of silence between when I answered and when the radio voice would actually respond again.

“Yes, you can trust me.” I said.

“Good.” the voice responded immediately. The promptness of the response took me aback.

“How I like to have fun is…” the voice continued. “I like to drink.”

“Oh!” I responded. “That’s actually super normal. I think we all do, if I’m being honest.”

Silence. Did I offend him or something?

Then…

“People. I like to drink people.” he said.

What?

Silence from the radio. I didn’t say anything back this time. I just started wondering… what kind of AM station would be pulling a long-running horror bit like this? Just seemed weird.

A few minutes passed. Still nothing but silence. I wanted to switch the station but a part of me didn’t feel comfortable making a move.

Finally, he broke his silence.

“My secret is safe with you, yes?”.

I couldn’t muster up a response, so I just kind of nodded?

“Thank you” he responded.

I was tense. Thankfully, he switched over to his whispery gibberish after that. I let a few more minutes pass, and then I switched back to FM and called it a night.

The experience was weird enough that I spent a lot of the next day googling around for the names and details of all of my local AM stations. Turns out, there wasn’t a recorded station anywhere near where I had taken my AM dial. I looked up some of the details of the station (low whispering in another language, an AM channel that asks for secrets) and likewise couldn’t muster anything up.

I did the mature thing, and decided to move on with my life.

That was until two weeks ago. I came home drunk on a Friday night, and I felt curious.

This time, I was armed with liquid courage. So I turned on my clock radio, switched to AM, and went to the fringes of the dial like I always used to. Something strange happened this time.

The station was gone. I was sure of it. There was no low whispering, no familiar voice. Just a sea of static as I scrolled through.

I started going back through prior AM stations, looking for any sort of familiar signal. I must’ve spent an hour doing this.

Finally, I’d taken the dial all the way to the other end - the other fringe of stations. It was more of a last ditch effort than anything else, and surprisingly enough, I heard that croaky whispering again in between all of the static. I hunkered down and honed in on the station until I was fully tuned in.

There he was. Whispering. Faster than usual this time. I heard laughter between his whispers this time. It felt like this was a more energetic broadcast.

It took him a few minutes this time to realize I was there. Slowly, his whispering dissipated. We were back in our silence together.

“I was able to have a drink.”

“You were?” I said back.

Silence.

“I’m grateful for those who keep secrets. Your trust allowed me to have fun.” said the voice.

“As your friend, I’d love to know more details” I said back. (Keep in mind I was drunk, and had convinced myself this was all bullshit)

A pause. It was around ten minutes but it felt like an eternity. I’m pretty sure sober me would’ve switched stations at this point. But I was determined. The same weird feeling that made me chase AM radio in the first place was making me stay.

Finally.

“Thank you for letting me share my story.” he said. He wasn’t whispering this time. The deep, rough, croak in his voice was incredibly clear. It sounded otherworldly.

“I drank a family this time. A mother. And a son.”

He proceeded to give me details. Their names. Where they lived. How they tasted. In between my horror, I was able to scribble down some baseline details.

He went on for longer than I thought. I wanted to get up and record some of this, but it felt like I couldn’t move. It felt like he could tell if I stopped focusing on his story.

Finally, he stopped.

“Thank you friend.” he said.

“N-no worries.” I said back.

Silence.

“If I ever need another drink, will you let me visit?” he asked.

Fuck. Why did I tune into this fucking station tonight? What was I thinking?

I slowly moved to turn the dial. Part of me just wanted to smash the alarm right then and there.

“Friends should know where each other live. Will you tell me where you live?”

My hand was closer to the dial.

“Are you Michael? Is your address 51–”

Turned away. Flicked the switch back to FM. And then, I’ll level with you, I smashed the damn thing right after. In case you were wondering, yes, he had my first name right, and it sounded like he was en route to getting my address correct as well.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I haven’t slept very well since.

Eventually, I mustered up the courage to google some of the details he shared with me. As it turned out, there was a very grizzly crime scene in the same area he described. The names hadn’t been shared to the public, but it was a mother and a son. But the weird thing was, this happened all the way on the other side of the fucking country.

So here I am now. I won’t take the car with anyone. No radios of any kind in my apartment. I don’t really see people anymore. I don’t want to risk the chance that I accidentally tune into that station, and that fucking creature finishes saying my address.

Fuck AM Radio.