STATUS: COLD CASE

SUBJECT: Xavier Price — Male, Age 32

LAST SEEN: Davis–Monthan Air Base, Hangar 18 / 02:17 A.M. / Flight Log Entry (Final)

DISPOSITION: Unauthorized Engine Test / Run-Up Activation / Personnel Disappearance

RECLASSIFIED: SIGNAL CODE: FOXTROT-E

The wrench was still warm.

The logbook still open.

The name still signed.

They said he mixed the manifests.

Said fatigue made him wander.

Said the log was forged.

But hangars don’t heat themselves.

And ghosts don’t torque bolts.

The chalk lines marked where a decommissioned aircraft once lived.

Then, before dawn, new rubber scuffs appeared over the dust.

No aircraft assigned.

No flight scheduled.

No man accounted for.

The final notation read—

ENGINE TEST — COMPLETE.

RUN-UP RECORDED. AIRCREW CLEARED.

By morning… Hangar 18 was sealed.

Base command called it maintenance.

No one asked why the floor still smelled like heat.

Ena’s reopened the case.

The base kept the plane.

The plane kept the man.

You shouldn’t have walked the line.

✈️ Listen after midnight.

🗂 Companion file: beacons.ai/twistednighttales

STATUS: COLD CASE

SUBJECT: Yasmine Trask — Age 29

LAST SEEN: Anchorage Telephone Exchange / Night Shift / 1971

DISPOSITION: Unexplained Audio Persistence / Phantom Transmission / Operator Absence

RECLASSIFIED: SIGNAL CODE: OMEGA-T

She worked the lines that carried other people’s voices.

Then one of them learned hers.

The call started with her name.

It ended before she could hang up.

The board never powered down.

The line stayed warm.

And the copper kept breathing.

No one heard her leave.

But the headset never cooled.

Ena’s reopened the file.

You shouldn’t have answered.

☎️ Listen after midnight.

📂 Companion file: beacons.ai/twistednighttales

STATUS: COLD CASE

SUBJECT: Zoelle Kincaid — Mail Clerk, Age 31

LAST SEEN: 8th Floor Annex, 11:13 A.M. / Interoffice Chute Vestibule

DISPOSITION: Unresolved Disappearance / Mechanical Malfunction / Containment Breach

RECLASSIFIED: SIGNAL CODE: OMEGA-H

STATE: Alabama • CITY: Birmingham • ERA: 1978

The Annex kept records.

Then the records kept her.

A brass mouth on the wall.

Canvas pouches fed like clockwork.

One jammed — then cleared.

Only the pouch came out.

The clerk didn’t.

By the time anyone looked,

her cart was still rolling.

The ledger still drying.

Her paperclip still on the floor.

They called it a missed route.

A forgotten break.

But buildings don’t forget.

Ena’s reopened the file.

You shouldn’t have leaned in.

📎 Listen before closing time.

📂 Companion file: beacons.ai/twistednighttales