Caretaker's phone rings in the middle of the night, waking them out of a sound sleep. They peer blearily at the caller ID, then sigh and press answer. "Whumpee, it's four in the morning. This had better be important."
There is silence on the other end of the line, and Caretaker furrows their brow. "Whumpee, if this is some kind of prank, I promise you—"
"Caretaker?"
The voice sounds so scared and broken that it makes Caretaker freeze on the spot. "Whumpee, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry, I just...I don't know what's going on and I think I'm bleeding and..." Whumpee's voice breaks off into something that sounds like a sob. Then, in a broken, desperate whisper; "Can you please come and get me?"
Caretaker is already in motion, yanking on clothing and snatching their keys from the kitchen counter. "Where are you?"
