Officer Clara: Sarah, take the left side of the frame. If this door goes down, we move fast and low.
Officer Sarah: Understood. I've got your back. Whoever is in there sounds totally unhinged.
Officer Clara: Sir or ma'am! Last warning! Step away from the door and unlock it!
Voice Inside: POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR!
Sarah froze mid-step, her fingers tightening around her service weapon as she blinked in pure confusion.
Officer Sarah: Did... did that person just repeat what you said back to you?
Officer Clara: Don't let them disorient you. It could be a tactic to buy time or hide evidence.
Voice Inside: WHAT DO YOU WANT? WHAT DO YOU WANT?
Officer Sarah: Something feels completely wrong about this tone. Listen to the pitch. It’s too high, too rhythmic.
Officer Clara: I don't care if they sound like a cartoon villain, Sarah. The distress call mentioned screaming, smashing glass, and threats. Kick the lock off.
Sarah stepped forward, raised her heavy tactical boot, and slammed it directly into the strike plate beside the door handle. The wood splintered with a loud crack, the latch gave way, and the heavy door swung wide open into the dim entryway.
Officer Clara: Police! Hands where we can see them! Down on the ground!
Both officers rushed through the threshold, sweeping their weapons across the grand entryway. The house was spotless, bathed in warm sunlight streaming through high arched windows. There was no blood, no signs of a struggle, and no human standing in the hallway. Instead, perched on a large wicker chair near the coat rack, sat a bright green Amazon parrot, tilting its head back and forth violently.
Parrot: WHAT DO YOU WANT? POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR!
Sarah slowly lowered her sidearm, staring in total disbelief as her shoulder muscles relaxed with a heavy sigh.
Officer Sarah: You have got to be kidding me. Clara, look at this.
Officer Clara: A bird? We just breached a residential front door over a bird?
Parrot: SHUT UP! STOP IT! GET OUT!
Officer Sarah: Wait... listen to the other phrases it's squawking. That's not just random speech mimicry. It sounds like an argument.
Officer Clara: Parrots copy whatever their owners say, Sarah. The owner probably watches too much crime TV or yells at the television.
Parrot: DON'T TOUCH ME, ARTHUR! PUT THE GUN DOWN, ARTHUR!
The air in the hallway instantly chilled. Clara halted in her tracks, her hand hovering right near her holster again as she turned her head back toward the bird.
Officer Clara: What did it just say?
Officer Sarah: It said... 'Put the gun down, Arthur.' Clara... Arthur Vance?
Officer Clara: Arthur Vance was the real estate developer who went missing six years ago from this exact neighborhood. His case was closed as a presumed drowning at the lake.
Parrot: HIDE THE MONEY! HIDE THE MONEY IN THE ATTIC!
Officer Sarah: Clara... this isn't just a noisy pet. This bird is repeating the last fight Arthur Vance had before he vanished.
Officer Clara: Call homicide and forensics right now. Nobody leaves this property, and we search every inch of this house.
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