The officer's heart raced as he heard the eerie, crackling voice on the other end of the line. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see someone standing in the shadows, but the street was empty, save for the flashing lights of the patrol car and the rain quietly drumming on the pavement.

"Who?who is this?" the officer asked, gripping the receiver tightly.

A soft chuckle came through the static. "Who I am doesn't matter. What matters is that Ethan is ready now."

The officer hesitated, chills creeping up his spine. He had heard strange tales over his years on the force, but this was different. This voice, calm and otherworldly, seemed to come from nowhere - and it spoke as if it knew him, as if it knew everyone on this darkened street.

"Ready? For what?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"For what lies beyond," the voice replied, growing softer with every word until it faded into silence.

The line went dead. The officer stood there, unnerved, listening to the steady drip of water off the edges of the phone booth. He replaced the receiver slowly, half-expecting it to ring again. But all was silent.

Then, as he turned to walk back to his patrol car, he saw a figure standing at the end of the street. His heart stopped. The figure was faint, almost transparent, a familiar face that sent a jolt of recognition through him - Ethan. His eyes were fixed on the officer, his expression calm but resolute.

The officer blinked, and the figure was gone, leaving only the empty, rain-swept street in its wake.

Back in his car, he tried to shake the feeling, but he couldn't. The words echoed in his mind: "Ethan is ready now."

That night, he filed his report, but he omitted the part about the phone call andthe figure. No one would believe him. Yet he knew deep down that Ethan's journey wasn't over - and neither was the mystery that brought him to that phone booth, perhaps destined to wait for the next traveler who would pick up the receiver and answer the last call.