Hotline

In the dim glow of a downtown crisis‑helpline, a night‑shift operator seeks a quiet escape from the chaotic bar crowd that has come to define her evenings. Brianne O’Neill, an art student with a restless imagination, volunteers at the call center despite a packed schedule, hoping the work will offer a sense of purpose beyond the lingering noise of the city. The sterile booths and hushed voices create a world where every whispered confession feels like a fragile thread, and the line between empathy and self‑preservation is constantly tested.

The routine of offering comfort is shattered when a distorted voice slips through the receiver, delivering a chilling invitation that feels less like a plea for help and more like a twisted game. The caller, never identified, speaks in cryptic, nursery‑rhyme riddles that hint at something far more sinister than ordinary distress calls. Each puzzle arrives with a quiet menace, turning the hotline’s safe harbor into a tense arena where intellect and intuition become the only weapons.

_ Brianne_ finds herself drawn into the rhythm of the riddles, her artistic mind parsing metaphor and pattern in a desperate attempt to stay ahead. The atmosphere tightens with every new clue, as the ordinary hum of the center is replaced by an undercurrent of dread that pulses through the fluorescent lights. The stakes feel personal; the unknown voice seems to know more about her life than any stranger could, turning each interaction into a careful dance of curiosity and caution.

The film settles into a mood of uneasy suspense, blending the stark realism of emergency response with the eerie allure of a mind game. As the riddles grow more elaborate, Brianne must balance her desire to help with a growing instinct that some mysteries are better left unsolved, leaving the audience perched on the edge of every phone ring, waiting to see which side of the line will answer next.

Last Updated: December 04, 2025 at 16:20