EXCLUSIVE: Iryna Zarutska’s Last Message Was Just One Line: “My Shift Is Over, I’m Going Home.” But 5 Minutes Later, a Secret Recording Was Sent to Her Best Friend’s Voicemail… This Recording Terrified Everyone Who Heard It.
The death of Iryna Zarutska, a 23-year-old Ukrainian refugee, on a Charlotte light rail train on August 22, 2025, has gripped the world with its sheer brutality and the haunting inaction of bystanders captured on surveillance video. But a chilling new detail has emerged, deepening the tragedy and sending shockwaves through her community and beyond: a secret audio recording, inadvertently sent to her best friend’s voicemail just five minutes after her final text message, has surfaced. The contents of this recording—described as “terrifying” by those who have heard it—have sparked intense speculation, raised questions about what really happened in her final moments, and amplified calls for justice in a case that continues to unravel.
Iryna Zarutska’s story is one of resilience shattered by violence. Fleeing Ukraine’s war-torn landscape in August 2022, she arrived in Charlotte, North Carolina, with her family, seeking safety and a fresh start. A graduate of Synergy College in Kyiv with a degree in art and restoration, Iryna was pursuing veterinary assistant training at Rowan-Cabarrus Community College while working late shifts at Zepeddie’s Pizzeria. Known for her warmth and love for animals—she often cared for neighbors’ pets—she was described by her uncle in an ABC News interview as “full of life” and eager to embrace her new home. Her final text to her best friend, Olena Kovalenko, sent at 9:50 p.m. from her phone as she boarded the Charlotte Area Transit System (CATS) Blue Line, was heartbreakingly mundane: “My shift is over, I’m going home.” It was a message that belied the horror about to unfold.
Five minutes later, at approximately 9:55 p.m., a voicemail was automatically sent to Olena’s phone. Sources close to the investigation, speaking to local outlet WCNC, confirm that Iryna’s phone, likely triggered by an accidental button press or a voice-activated feature, recorded audio during the moments of her attack. The recording, which has not been publicly released due to its graphic nature, is said to capture the chaos of her final seconds: the rustle of movement, muffled gasps, and what some describe as an eerie, low muttering from her attacker, 34-year-old Decarlos Dejuan Brown Jr. Olena, who listened to the voicemail hours later, described it to friends as “something out of a nightmare,” saying it left her trembling and unable to sleep. “It wasn’t just her pain—it was his voice, like he was talking to himself,” she reportedly told a family member. The audio has been turned over to authorities and is now a key piece of evidence in Brown’s prosecution.
The attack itself, as seen in widely circulated surveillance footage, was swift and unprovoked. Iryna, seated with earbuds in and scrolling on her phone, was stabbed three times in the neck by Brown, a homeless man with a documented history of schizophrenia and 14 prior arrests, including armed robbery and felony larceny. The video shows Brown, seated behind her, fidgeting erratically before pulling a pocketknife and striking. Iryna curled defensively, clutching her throat, before collapsing as blood pooled around her. Bystanders, just feet away, remained frozen—a moment of silence now infamous online—until one passenger attempted aid after she fell. Paramedics pronounced her dead at the scene, and Brown, subdued by riders after fleeing to another car, was arrested. He faces state charges of first-degree murder and a federal indictment for committing a deadly act on public transit, with the death penalty on the table.
The voicemail adds a haunting layer to an already devastating case. While its full contents remain under wraps, snippets described by those familiar with the investigation paint a grim picture. The muttering, believed to be Brown’s, reportedly includes disjointed phrases about “mind control” and “signals,” aligning with his alleged confession to police that he attacked Iryna because he thought she was “reading his mind.” This has fueled discussions about his mental state, with his family telling CNN that his schizophrenia was untreated due to scarce resources. The recording also captures ambient train sounds and faint passenger murmurs, amplifying the chilling reality that no one intervened as Iryna fought for her life. Social media platforms like X are ablaze with speculation, with users demanding the audio’s release to “expose the truth,” while others argue it’s too traumatic for public consumption.
The revelation of the voicemail has reignited debates sparked by the surveillance video, which has garnered millions of views worldwide. The bystander effect, where individuals in a group fail to act in an emergency, is a focal point. An opinion piece in The Hill notes that the attack’s speed—under 15 seconds—likely paralyzed witnesses, and the neck wounds weren’t immediately obvious as fatal. Yet online, outrage persists, with hashtags like #JusticeForIryna trending alongside calls for accountability. Some, like conservative commentator Charlie Kirk in his final post before his own death on September 10, tied the incident to broader systemic issues, decrying “soft-on-crime” policies that allowed Brown, recently released without bail on a minor charge, to remain free. Kirk’s words—“America Will Never Be the Same”—echo as a grim prophecy in light of both tragedies.
The recording has also deepened the pain for Iryna’s loved ones. Olena, who met Iryna at a Ukrainian community center in Charlotte, has been inconsolable, telling friends the voicemail “replays in my head like a curse.” Iryna’s family, still processing their loss, has declined to comment on the audio but issued a statement through a local advocate: “Iryna came to America for peace, not to die in fear. We beg for justice and for change so no one else suffers.” In Ukraine, her hometown has held vigils, viewing her death as a continuation of the war’s toll—fleeing one danger only to meet another abroad.
Legally, the voicemail strengthens the case against Brown. Prosecutors, led by U.S. Attorney Russ Ferguson, are using it to corroborate the surveillance footage and Brown’s confession. The federal indictment, announced September 9, underscores the attack’s impact on public transit safety, with Ferguson stating, “No one should fear for their life on a train.” Brown’s attorney, however, argues his client’s mental illness mitigates culpability, and a 60-day psychiatric evaluation is underway. Politically, the case has become a lightning rod. Conservatives, including former President Trump, have called for harsher penalties and criticized urban crime policies, while progressives advocate for mental health reform to prevent such tragedies.
The broader implications are staggering. Charlotte Mayor Vi Lyles has pledged increased transit security, including more cameras and patrols, but critics argue these are Band-Aid solutions. The voicemail’s existence has also raised questions about technology’s role in emergencies—could Iryna’s phone, which recorded her death, have alerted authorities sooner? Advocacy groups for refugees and the mentally ill are pushing for systemic change, from better integration support to accessible treatment. On X, users share clips of the surveillance video alongside tributes to Iryna, with one post reading: “Her last words were about going home. Now she’s gone, and that recording is all we have left.”
As the world grapples with this haunting audio, Iryna Zarutska’s story transcends her death. The voicemail, a digital ghost of her final moments, forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about safety, compassion, and the systems that failed her. Will it spur meaningful change, or become another footnote in a cycle of violence? For now, it remains a terrifying testament to a life cut short, echoing in the hearts of those who loved her and the millions who now know her name.