Sep 9, 2016
Storyteller666 - The Call
Clearly the day was not the best. Several bills to pay, a daughter not seen for days, an ex-wife who charged pension, an unhappy boss, a friend traitor and a God who was not even there. The Corb day definitely was not going as well as he wanted. The relief to get home took so crossed the front door, but could he really relax with life a mess as it was? Apparently even he thought otherwise. He threw the bag on the chair, went to the kitchen and put in the microwave a frozen lasagna that was in the refrigerator. Set the exact time and put the couch to turn on the TV and have a little more disgust of life itself. Does all the madness he passing was his own fault? Maybe if he had not married the wrong woman, borned her daughter at the wrong time and have a wrong job, it could be that none of this was happening. As much as he loved his daughter more than anyone in the world - even himself - he always questioned whether or not her absence would make his life better. A thought that he repressed with constant shame, knowing that only a soulless think such nonsense - something he was little to becoming, and to complete, the same quiet programming ever.
He was changing channels with the push button in the increasingly fast control. It seemed that he was discounting all the rage of the day - and of his life - in that innocent button, pressing faster every time he saw a useless program until what he think that could not get worse, worse. All the signal seemed to have gone into space and everything he saw in the unit were only noises and constant drizzle. He fumed at once and turned off the TV and surprizely - almost like at the same time he had turned off the TV - your phone call giving a huge scare. With all that had happened that day, he swore to himself that if was the collector, he will hang up the phone, set fire to the house and go out aimlessly in the world. But to his surprise, it turned out to be something much more unusual and bizarre than he thought it could be.
= Part 2: Call =
- Hello? - And the man taking the handset and putting in one of his ears;
- Hello, young man! - A voice like a little girl on the other side of the line answered. Wait, but why a little girl - that the voice seemed to have no more than six years old - would be calling his house so late at night? He thought to be his daughter perhaps linking hidden from her mother just to tell her father that she loved him and then he would say “I love you too, my princess” and the whole meaning of his life back, but the girl never called the father of “Young Man”. Something very strange was it;
- Who is it? - Asked the “Young man” curious;
- Someone who really wants to meet you - Answered the little girl voice almost a whisper. The voice sounds very much like his daughter, and this was making him very nervous;
- Who the hell is talking? Better to say or I’ll lose it right now! - Said crudely, the young man, who was now more nervous than before;
- Do it and you’ll be dead by dawn! Who do you think I am? Any? Not! Tonight I will make you a little visit, wait for me - Said the girl whispers across the line. At that moment a big yellow rose on the back of Corb and he opened his eyes and began to sweat. A great shiver ran down his spine and all he could say was:
- For God, who are you? - And at that moment, instead of responding girl, a great torrent of strong sound waves left the phone and pierced the man’s eardrums. He was mesmerized by the sound, it was something bizarre that he had never before heard. A noise as if from hell itself. At least glimpse of sobriety he exhaled, hit the receiver off once the connection. Now he was not nervous, but more freaked out than ever. Never could forgive himself for having desired that was not the collector.
= Part 3: Hello, young man! =
The wind ran through the house with a cold breeze. The room temperature should not be more than 21 degrees (C°) with a wind chill of 18 at least, but Corb was sweating warmly while away from the phone with the face exuding sheer panic and stare at the object. He knocked on the couch with his buttocks to see when - for another shock - the TV turned on as magic again with the same noises in both image and sound. The man took hold fastly the remote control and switched off at once, pulling the plug to ensure that would not happen more. At this time noticed a strange unusual noise in the house - that for their non-surprise, even more scared. The sound he already had heard before, he just did not know why he wrapped the little house at the time, at that time. Your kitchen sink seemed to be open gushing a little water in the dish that for days had not been washed. The noise of the liquid falling on an old cup caused a noise dark, thing in common occasion would be treated as something at least annoying. He stared at the sink that was just a hallway from the living room and was cautiously walking to close it, but before he could go half way, the wind blew harder, and this time took up glasses they had the windows.
As a large coral horror, each glass window in the house began to burst out inside spreading broken glass all over the floor and toward man. Corb was covering his ears and protect your head as the dreadful sound of windows breaking accompanied a sharp sound that seemed drilling his brain like a drill. He fell to knees on the living room floor while shouting reinforcing the macabre orchestra, feeling his brain almost explode the sinister noise was becoming louder. His ears were already bleeding and throat was getting hoarse by force that he did to scream, when a sound in particular drew attention, and he knew him well … Your microwave was warning that dinner was ready. The “Biiip” seemed to make all that torture stop, and when he looked around, there was a piece of glasses on the floor and even his ears were intact. He looked confused around wondering what just happened and what the reason for the microwave taking so long to prepare your food. He was now not only confused, but with a much greater fear than before. It does the fact that happen? Does he received the strange call? Was he going crazy? He had not even gotten up, when feel a cold and fresh breath on her neck followed by a thin, smooth, whispered voice speaking:
- Hello, young man!
Soundtrack did by DZKYIN: