return from the hell: they call me god

“Hello, this is 911 Emergency Services. How can we assist you?” “Officer, I've just had a breakup. Can you comfort me?” “I'm sorry, but breakups are not something we can handle. Would you like me to connect you to a mental health hotline?” ... “Hello, this is 911...” “Hi, I'm having a headache...” “I'm sorry, but headaches aren't something we handle. Would you like me to connect you to the emergency medical hotline?” ... “Hello, this is 911...” “Officer, someone's trying to kill me!” “I'm sorry, we can't handle... What did you say?!” “Someone is trying to kill me!” “Who is trying to kill you?!” In the New Haven 911 Call Center, a group of operators turned their heads simultaneously towards the rookie operator, Sarah Thompson, in the corner. The usually bustling call center fell silent instantly. Sarah, fumbling with the phone, spoke hurriedly, her voice tinged with evident nervousness: “Please explain, where are you right now and what exactly is happening?” She could hear the rapid breathing from the other end of the line. She wanted to offer some comfort, but she was afraid it might cause the caller to miss the critical moment to report the situation. “Officer, you must save me! I... I don't want to die... I don't want to die! Ugh ugh ugh...” “I’m at... I’m at...” The voice on the other end belonged to a middle-aged man, desperately trying to keep his voice low, seemingly afraid of making too much noise. His voice carried a distinct sobbing tone, indicating he was terrified. “I’m at... I’m at...” “I’m at...” The man repeated his words once again, but after finishing his sentence, the line suddenly went silent! “Hello, hello? Sir, are you still there?” Sarah asked urgently, but there was no response from the other side. As time passed, she realized the line was eerily quiet. It was so quiet it felt abnormal! There was no sound of someone speaking, nor the usual electrical hum she was used to hearing. She quickly checked the network status and found everything normal. Just as Sarah was at a loss for what to do, the sound on the other end resumed! A blood-curdling scream nearly caused Sarah to drop the phone! “Ahh!” “He... he found me! He found me! Ahhhh!” “Officer, help me, save me! Save my life—” “Save me!” A sudden mechanical noise cut off the man's cries for help! At that moment, Sarah heard what sounded like something being sliced open, followed by the splatter of liquid and a dripping sound! The mechanical noise was harsh, and Sarah could vaguely hear faint breathing sounds from the other end! These breathing sounds gave the young rookie operator a slight sense of calm, “Sir, are you still there?” The mechanical hum continued, but the breathing ceased. Sarah felt her scalp tingle. She tried asking a few more times, but there was still no response. Just as Sarah was about to hang up and report the situation to her superior, the man's voice, which had vanished earlier, reappeared! “I’m at Dreamland Villas, House B021, in New Haven.” This time, the man's voice was calm and composed, not at all like the previous terrified tone! His voice was so steady, it was unsettling! “Okay! Please hold on, I'll dispatch officers to your location right away—” “Goodbye!” Click! The call was abruptly terminated before Sarah could finish her sentence. She listened to the dial tone, her heart racing, until a colleague's touch startled her back to reality. Without wasting any time, Sarah immediately followed protocol to issue a dispatch order to the local precinct! The dispatch order was issued, the precinct's alarm sounded, and officers were dispatched. The entire process took only a few minutes, and two police cars sped out of the New Haven precinct! A murder case! The first in three years for the New Haven precinct! Even for the entire city of New Haven, murder cases were rare in recent years! From the precinct to Dreamland Villas was only a few minutes' drive, and when the officers arrived at the destination, only ten minutes had passed since the call was made. In front of House B021, Detective John Miller and his team got out of the car, faces grim. Surveying the villa, John hoped this was all a misunderstanding. With nearly thirty years on the force, his last murder case was five years ago. However, the strong scent of blood wafting from the ajar door of B021 suggested otherwise. However, the strong smell of blood emanating from the slightly open door of House B021 made John Miller's heart sink. He put on his shoe covers and said, "Once we go in, no matter what we see, stay calm!" “If you need to vomit, find a place to do it away from the scene. Don’t contaminate the evidence!” “We don’t know if the suspect is still inside, so everyone be careful!” “Yes, sir!” John signaled for two male officers to circle around the house through the yard, while he led a male and female officer through the slightly open front door. The smell of blood was even stronger inside, causing the two young officers following John to wrinkle their noses and cover their faces. John remained unfazed, one hand resting on his gun as he carefully surveyed the interior. The three cautiously moved through the ground floor, finding nothing unusual. Drip, drip! Suddenly, the female officer heard the sound of dripping. She turned and her face turned pale. “Detective Miller, the stairs!” John and the other officer turned to see bright red blood dripping down the stairs from the second floor, forming a small puddle on the ground floor. “The second floor!” The three avoided the blood and ascended the stairs, following the trail of blood to a bedroom door. “Ugh!” Before they even saw the inside of the bedroom, the female officer couldn’t withstand the intensified smell of blood. She turned and ran out of the house, vomiting into the garden. On the second floor, John and the remaining male officer looked into the bedroom, their faces turning equally pale. The male officer covered his mouth, struggling to speak, “Detective Miller, I... my legs are weak, ugh, ugh—” At that moment, what lay before John and the officer was a human body cut into pieces. To be precise, it wasn’t cleanly sliced; it was butchered. A middle-aged man, around fifty years old, was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. His eyes were blank, pupils dark and lifeless. His body had been sawed horizontally into pieces from head to toe, but the cuts weren’t complete, leaving the pieces stacked together in a grotesque approximation of a human form. With blood pouring from every part of his body, he looked like a figure doused in a horrifying red sauce. The blood continued to drip, pooling beneath him, where a small doll with a ghostly face sat silently. Beside it lay a blood-stained circular saw. ... Thousands of miles away, at the Central City Airport. A plane from New Haven landed smoothly, and passengers began to disembark in an orderly fashion. Among the crowd was a young man with delicate features and gold-rimmed glasses, exuding a scholarly aura. He wore a vintage-style white silk shirt and white linen trousers. A white shoulder bag hung from his shoulder, with a string of wind chimes attached to its strap. The overall impression he gave was of cleanliness, refinement, and grace. Ting-a-ling— As the wind blew, the wind chimes on the boy's bag produced a pleasant sound. He stood still, a slight smile on his face. "Well done, little ghost. You’ve worked hard..." Meanwhile, back at the crime scene in New Haven, beside the butchered body, the small ghost-faced doll sitting quietly in the pool of blood had its black eyes lit up with a faint glow.