The spirit considers this, twisting their head... wow, heads are just not supposed to twist that much. It's rather alarming. It takes a frustratingly long time for it to provide any response at all, before it echoes back a single phrase in a distorted croon.

Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. hurthurthurt — The spirit unwinds its neck to bob its pale face, clinging to the rafter and limbs going a bit less tense with intent to launch itself. Hurt.

The party will notice that the static in the radio is abating, at least slightly, as the spirit seems to show signs of calming. They can hear the message, distantly, through the slightly lessened thrum of static.