The 911 dispatcher had answered countless calls over the years, but something about this one felt different. The voice on the other end was tiny, quivering, and drenched in fear.
“Please… come. Someone is whispering under my bed,” murmured a 5-year-old girl named Mia, her tone barely audible.
Maintaining a calm demeanor, the operator asked gently, “Where are your parents?”
“They don’t believe me,” she answered quietly. “They say I’m making it up… but I can hear it. Right now… I hear it again.”
The tremble in her voice sent a shiver down his spine. He reassured her that police officers were already on their way and instructed her to remain on the line until help arrived.
About ten minutes later, patrol cars pulled up to a small home on the edge of town. When the door opened, Mia’s parents looked confused.
“Did she imagine something again?” her father asked, casting a glance toward his wife.
“We’re just here to check things out,” the sergeant replied. “Can we take a look at her room?”
In her bedroom, Mia sat huddled in the corner, clutching her teddy bear tightly. Her wide eyes shimmered with tears as she silently lifted her arm and pointed toward her bed covered in a soft pink blanket.
“That’s where the voices come from,” she whispered.
One officer crouched down and peered into the shadows beneath the bed. All he saw was dust, a couple of toys, and nothing unusual.
“There’s nothing here,” he reported as he stood up. “Probably just an active imagination.”
But another officer held up a hand. “Hold on… listen.”
Everyone in the room froze. After about half a minute of silence, it came—a faint, strange noise. It wasn’t exactly a voice, but a slow, harsh scraping sound, like metal dragging across compacted dirt.
The officer rapped his knuckles on the floorboards under the bed. In one spot, the sound was muffled. They pried up a section of the wood, revealing a layer of soil underneath.
Grabbing a shovel from the garage, they began digging a few inches down until the blade struck something hard—a metal hatch.
When they opened it, they saw a narrow tunnel stretching into pitch-black darkness. Additional units were called in, and after hours of methodical searching, the police uncovered a maze of underground tunnels linking several nearby houses.
Inside, they discovered three fugitives—escaped inmates who had been hiding for months. They had been secretly digging every night, inching their way toward escape, trying to keep quiet… but little Mia had heard them anyway.
Because of her call, the escapees were captured. That night, for the first time in many weeks, Mia finally slept in peace.