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The Interesting Thread 2017 - Mudlarking in the Thames
Fed up talking videogames? Why?
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Alvin Flummux
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- Joined in 2008
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PostRe: The Interesting Thread - Roanoke, Easter Island & Alcala
by Alvin Flummux » Sun Oct 21, 2012 12:37 am
Images of WW2, merged with photos of the same spots today...
http://www.dailyfail.co.uk/news/article ... cenes.html
http://www.dailyfail.co.uk/news/article ... cenes.html
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Jax
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PostRe: The Interesting Thread - Roanoke, Easter Island & Alcala
by Jax » Mon Oct 22, 2012 3:44 am
Interesting.
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Hulohot
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PostRe: The Interesting Thread - Roanoke, Easter Island & Alcala
by Hulohot » Mon Oct 22, 2012 8:10 am
That's totally awesome 
Nice find.
Nice find.
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Skarjo
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PostThe Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by Skarjo » Wed Oct 31, 2012 4:43 pm
Welcome boys and ghouls (yup, totally just wrote that) to The Interesting Thread; Halloween Edition. Big thanks to Hulohot for his permission in using the name!
Now then, a warning, lots of this will be NSFW, so be warned!
So, first, to the cinemas! What’s on at the local picture house the Halloween to scare the bejeeesus out of you and, preferably, the easily-shocked large breasted blonde who has agreed to accompany you?
Cinema Shocks
Sinister
It’s a well worn trope, but this story of a struggling writer trying to settle into a new house has been dividing critics. It’s on general release, and is rated 15.
Paranormal Activity 4
Yup. Same again.
Silent Hill; Revelations
Computer Gaming Title; Word Beginning with R
Short Scares
The Red Balloon
Another well-worn tale, the babysitter in trouble is a Halloween classic. But this one’s got the addition of a creepy kid too. Wahey!
Still Life
Dude pulls into town, but everything is a bit… Lifeless.
Bedfellows
Daywalt horror has been making short horror films for years, but one of the oldest, Bedfellows, still remains the best.
The Hunt
Found footage movie of the hunt for a mysterious brutal killer in the woods.
Home-Horrors
V/H/S
Hit and miss horror portmanteau with 5 scary tales (somehow) caught on VHS tape.
Lovely Molly
The Pact
Grave Encounters 2
Creepypastas
Poképasta
Other
Super bonus Halloween Horror Story!
As a science teacher, making the subject interesting was always the biggest challenge. But that was the bit of the job that I loved; finding some way to make this subject interesting. With some classes it was really easy, some were just naturally interested in what made the world tick. Some got all starry-eyed at the idea of infinite universes, destructive black holes, chemical explosions and classifying all the creepy crawlies that lived in the world. Some classes were harder to grab though, and you had to really find something to pull them in. This was even more fun to figure out, like teaching taxonomical classifications using Pokemon, or using some Sci-Fi to explore the ideas of space of time, or sometimes just a good ol’ fashioned blowing something the strawberry float up.
Every now and then though, you’d get a really tough group. It was even worse when it came to teaching a subject that they found particularly dull. One class in particular was an unholy boiling pot of hormone-fuelled disruption. I would love to say I didn’t consider them bad kids but the inbuilt liberal side most teachers have hardwired into them can only take so much punishment. They all had their reasons, of course; broken homes, runaway parents, bad areas, drugs, alcohol, or just plain learning and development needs that we didn’t have the time or the funds to accommodate properly. But with all the justification in the world, it didn’t stop every lesson with them blurring that fine line between learning and riot control.
I even approached my head of year for advice or support. He was normally a man who preached the gospel of ‘no-child-left-behind’ and ‘every-child-matters’ with religious fervour, however, even he, having provided cover teaching for the group in a pinch, simply looked at me with sunken, defeated eyes and told me ‘You’re on your own with them mate’. The best he could offer would be to steer the school observations away from those classes and to cast a sympathetic eye over my end of year results. A token gesture and it didn’t stop the lessons being a constant struggle to retain control.
For instance, one kid, Jake, took a lesson about Evolution and survival of the fittest to be a personal challenge to his finely honed fighting skills, and the rest of lesson was primarily concerned with me attempting to stop the class degenerating into a Battle Royale. I taught a lesson about the alkali metals (a family of metals which have a violent reaction with water) by putting a tiny pea-sized amount in a bowl of water and letting them see it skitter around before popping with a tiny bang. This lesson was rewarded by a break-in to the chemical cupboard that night that was followed by a missing 100g block of Potassium and a ‘mysterious explosion’ that destroyed half the plumbing in the gym’s shower block.
I was out of ideas and at the end of my tether, and had resigned myself to simply embracing my new role as riot officer and condemning the class to oblivion. However, I had one of those soul-searching moments and thought that, no, everyone deserves one last chance. It was my class, my subject and dammit I was a grown-ass man and would not be defeated by a bunch of foul-mouthed wanking little scrotes. I checked the curriculum and the next subject to be taught would be sound waves, ultrasound and sub-sonic waves in particular. So now all I had to find was the hook to draw them in. Had I known what would happen, I would have stopped right there.
But, I didn’t. I plowed on, trying to find some way to make the subject of sound waves you can’t hear interesting. I found plenty of experiments; using ultrasound to break glass (I didn’t fancy giving them any excuse to break glass), using it to break up kidney stones (the kids knew enough about weapons, thanks), or the way animals use it for navigation (but I didn’t fancy teaching them to add horrific screeches to their Batman impressions). I’d all but given up on finding anything useful when I stumbled across an article on scientific explanations for the paranormal based on sounds that existed outside of normal hearing range.
The article was fascinating. See, a Scientist called Gavreau had noticed that certain areas of a particular laboratory made anyone who worked there feel uneasy and scared. Some went as far as to say they’d seen ghosts and shadowy figures in that part of the lab. Few would dare work there, and fewer would dare twice. Being a man of science, the researcher rejected any supernatural claims and set up monitoring equipment around the area to investigate. What he found was that the area was a hotbed of subsonic sound waves. There were all kinds of research equipment in and around the lab like centrifuges and auto-stirrers and incubators; all creating sound waves inaudible to the human ear but that created a feeling of dread and terror in anyone that was subjected to them.
Paranormal research critics were quick to point out that whilst sub-sonic waves might account for the feelings of dread, they asked how this explains the visions of ghostly and shadowy figures that were also reported in the lab? Gavreau postulated that the waves caused the front of the eyes to vibrate, and that this could distort sight, inducing visions of horrific shadow-men and other tormentors. I even read that Gavreau was planning to expand his research into whether this might explain other ghost reports. For instance, the huge increase in ‘ghost’ sightings during building projects like extensions to the London Underground tube lines (often blamed on disturbed graves and inappropriate planners) may be nothing more than the sub-sonic waves caused by the digging machines.
Yes! This was perfect! I couldn’t believe my luck. It was such a simple experiment to set up in a classroom, and even the most hardened little thug gets quickly silenced when they think ghosts are in the room. Then once they’re thoroughly terrified – BAM – Science! I was grinning from ear to ear at this point, I couldn’t wait. For the first time ever, I was actually looking forward to the next lesson. I was so naïve, I should have looked deeper. The irony of the fact that everything that unfolded from here on out is down to the fact that I, teacher of the worst class in the country, didn’t do my homework would have been hilarious were it not for the tragedy of what was to come.
I finished my lesson plan and went to bed, getting the last good night’s sleep I’d ever enjoy.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.
…
The morning came and I still had a confident spring in my step. I even treated myself to a nice coffee on the way to work. I started doing that criminal thing that you do when you think you’ve had a good idea and let the fantasy run away with itself. After all, I’d just figured out how I was going to control that class! My head of year didn’t know how to do that! Maybe this would lead to a promotion, maybe I’d be next in line for the head of department. Maybe I could include it in the book I was going to write about controlling classrooms, maybe I’d be invited on to TV to explain how I’d turned this obnoxious class around. I knew I was getting way ahead of myself but hey, it was a daydream for the commute, where was the harm in letting it run a little?
I got to my room and started setting up the equipment. They were going to be my first class of the day so I wouldn’t have to wait forever which was lucky because at this point I could barely contain myself.
The equipment was very simple, there was going to be a simple speaker at the front of the classroom which was going to be the focal point of the display, but in the back corners there was going to be a simple setup of a couple of metal plates held in front of electromagnets. They were all going to be set to the same sub sonic frequency that Gavreau had used, and I hoped the acoustics of the room would amplify the effect.
The class piled in and took their places. They were already starting to play up but a couple were disquieted by the calm, confident look on my face. There wasn’t much that gave any of their teachers cause for that kind of collected facial expression in their classes, most had a look of barely concealed fear and trepidation, so to see me looking like a hindu cow shook their confidence. I had to capitalise on this brief period of crumbled bravado before they collected themselves. “SOUND” I bellowed. “What is it?”
My question was met with stony silence, as most of my attempts to engage with them were.
“Sound is a form of wave energy that, for the most part, allows us to hear things”. I subtly turned on the speakers to their sub-sonic frequency. It was at a low amplitude, so it’s unlikely anyone would be perceiving anything yet.
“However, scientists are still discovering new ways that the body interacts with energy in all its forms. Every day we find out new mechanisms by which the body is sensitive to energy. Every day we find a new way to explain the unexplainable by using rigorous scientific method to observe, predict, experiment and analyse” – I tweaked the intensity up a few notches and saw a few of their bored expressions shift to one much less complacent.
I was loving this, truly loving it. I almost didn’t know whether I was getting an adrenaline rush from finally controlling this unruly class or whether the sound waves were starting to get to me too. There was a bubbling panic growing in my chest, but I was sure that was just down to the excitement of the position. Even if I was also being affected (no reason why I wouldn’t be, just because I aware of it), at least I knew that I was in control.
“And if you kids really apply yourself, really buckle down and stop giving me gooseberry fool” (I couldn’t believe I’d just sworn at my class, the excitement was almost too much) “Then maybe you’d be able to use science to achieve something-“I paused and scanned over their increasingly distressed faces to ensure I really had them before I went for the grand finale. “-REALLY SPECIAL”.
I cranked the intensity of the sound wave up to full. I saw an instant shift in their demeanour. It was beautiful. A few started crying, some hid their eyes, some were just frantically looking around, wondering if they were the only ones and quickly seeing that they weren’t.
I almost started scaring myself. I looked across their terrified faces, watched them start scrambling and pleading with me and each other and God and anyone to make it stop. This started to feel like revenge rather than science. Every crappy lesson, every fight, every interruption, every curse, every punch and every missed piece of homework was all avenged as I watched the class descend into pure terrified panic.
Then there was a shift, I don’t know why I’d been slower to respond but all of a sudden the sound waves got me too. All of a sudden, I saw what they were seeing. I understood their fear. Shadowy figures swooped and darted around the peripheries of my vision. The corner of my eye was a dance of barely-seen terrors. However, when one of the shadows appeared to dash right across the classroom I realised I’d gone too far. This was terrifying even for me and I knew none of it was real. This needed to stop, now, before it went any further.
I killed the power to all speakers.
Instantly, the room was back to normal. No figures, no shadows, nothing clawing at the extremities of your vision, just another classroom full of clearly unsettled children. I regained control of myself and calmly explained to the class exactly what had happened. We went into detail about sound waves, energy transfer, the retina, the eye’s lenses, the whole lot. I knew I’d way overstepped the mark and I didn’t want to send a single child out until I was sure they knew that it was all an illusion. That there were no ghosts, no evil shadows; just a scientific trick of the mind.
Most of the class had recovered by the time they needed to leave for their next lesson. A couple still shaken, but I was satisfied that all they needed was a bit of a sit down. I’d certainly knocked them down a peg or two. Amazingly, Jake even looked me right in the eye and said ‘Nice one’ before moving on.
I was in a better mood than I’d been all year. I told the head of year and he let out a laugh so loud and appreciative I was sure half the surrounding classes had heard. ‘God, I wish I’d been there’ he chuckled. He then put his stern professional face on and said ‘But you should really run these kind of things past me first, if one of their parents complains…’ he trailed off, before looking at me again and letting his stern façade break into another wide, appreciative grin.
I stayed on cloud nine until later that evening. Everything was fine until the sun went down and it started getting a bit dark. I could have sworn I saw another shadow dart into hiding out of the corner of my eye. First time it happened, I was still full of bravado thinking ‘I know what caused that, it must be the roadworks down the street. The pneumatic drill must be vibrating my windows just right’. At that point, I actually believed myself.
However, as the light continued to fade, the twilight carried on playing tricks on me. I kept seeing dancing in the shadows long after road crews had gone home. I tried just getting an early night, but I couldn’t. As soon as I felt myself drifting off, I’d see more movement in the shadows. Hard as I tried, I kept seeing the darkness moving. They kept darting around. They darted towards, away and around me. Sometimes they looked like they were just standing there, other times they looked like they were ready to jump on me.
My imagination was driving me wild. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I bottled out, turned on all the lights and went on the internet. Unable to think of anything more constructive, I researched a bit more about Gavreau’s findings.
Why didn’t I do this before.
Gavreau’s scientific studies had tapered away rather rapidly after his sub-sonic discovery. From what I could see, they were replaced with increasingly erratic and less reliable conjecture about the nature and power of the sounds and the shadows. Most of his academic companions deserted him as he got more and more unhinged. I remembered the power I felt manipulating the class and I remembered having to tell myself that it was just an illusion. What if Gavreau lost that grip on reality? What if he kept pushing it until he forgot the science and believed his own pranks?
I was hardly comforted when I found out that his final conclusion from his final published research paper, widely discredited by all who found it, was that the sound didn’t make you see ghosts.
The sound let you see the ghosts that were already there.
And they didn’t appreciate being seen.
I couldn’t sleep a wink.
It didn’t look like any of the class did either when I saw them the next day. Saggy-eyed, drowsy and yawning, I asked them what was up.
“I kept seeing the shadows, Sir.” Said one, and many murmured in agreement.
Worse though was that one student hadn’t turned up at all. Jake was absent. Not especially unusual, a lot of the students played truant when given a chance. But something didn’t sit right. I asked if any of the students had heard anything from him.
One girl timidly replied ‘He texted me last night, Sir. Said he couldn’t sleep. Said he needed to find what was making the sound so he could turn it off.’
I just hope he found it.
I just hope he got some sleep.
I hoped we all would.
…
For good measure, I spent the remainder of the lesson going over the science behind my little illusion again in order to try and allay their uncertainties and fears. It was almost funny, this lesson went even better than the previous one as every student was held in a rapt state of attention. The whole class clung onto my every word. They took notes, drew diagrams, asked deep and pertinent questions on and around the subject, and they even completed all of their group work with nary a ripple of disruption.
I understood, of course, exactly what they were doing. They were trying their very best to understand what had happened to them yesterday so that they could really try and put it behind them. I’d always seen scientists as brave pioneers into the unknown, but looking across their steadily brightening faces I saw how science could just as easily be a comforting blanket; a rational barrier against the demons of the unknown.
By the end of the class, the horror of the previous day seemed to have well and truly faded and replaced by a joking camaraderie. Kids who would normally have been at each other’s throats in group sessions were working without issue. They even seemed positively friendly with each other, in a way only a group who’ve experienced a shared hardship could be. It was a fantastic sight, my earlier doubts about whether I’d gone too far were still there but, to look at them working productively and peacefully with each other, it was difficult to be too concerned. Jake still played on my mind though. I’m sure he was fine, he made truancy into an art form, but his texts about needing to ‘turn off the sound’ in the middle of the night, still made me nervous.
But the lesson had one last shot for my nerves in store. It concluded without issue and, concerns for Jake aside, I genuinely thought that maybe I’d turned a corner with this class. I’d need to be far more careful if I was going to use it with any other classes in future though, I had been completely unprepared for the intensity of the visions and the feelings of sheer terror. But it didn’t seem to be anything that a bit of personal experimentation with the equipment couldn’t refine in order to get the right level, and just looking at the quality of work that class had just produced it was going to be easy to get the Head of Science to sign off on the experiment for further use.
I was still running through these thoughts and contemplating what modifications to try next when, as the class were leaving, one girl asked to see me for a minute. In the now-empty classroom she stood, staring at intently at her shoes and refusing to look me in the eye.
‘What is it, Amy?’
She shifted her weight uncomfortably.
“Sir…. Did…..” – She was having trouble formulating her question. “Were the speakers on just then?”
“When?”
“During the lesson”
“No, why?”
The colour drained from her face as she weakly answered “Oh…Nothing…. Nothing”
She scuttled out of the room, clearly needing to be anywhere but in that classroom. I wanted to call after her, chase her even in order to clarify what she meant but I was distracted by something skittering across the room out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t get a clear look, and by the time I’d spun round to try and see, it had gone. I turned back to the corridor to shout after Amy but she too had disappeared just as suddenly.
Her question had disturbed me, and my mind returned to Jake. I used the morning break to contact the office to see if there was any word on him. “Jake. Jake Tandy. Class G2. Any word from him or his parents as to where he is today?” I asked the office girl in charge of monitoring attendance. She was about to answer when a grey smudge darted across the doorway to my right and pulled my attention away. I was still staring intently at the door when, out of nowhere, Richard, my head of year, stuck his head into the room and asked to borrow me for a moment.
He ushered me in to his office and closed the door.
“Jake Tandy was reported missing as of 9:30am this morning”
“What? By whom?”
“His mother. When she noticed he wasn’t in bed this morning she called round a couple of his girlfriends’ houses to find out if he’d snuck out there in the night. None of them had seen them. When she called us to find out if he was in school, we told her he wasn’t here. Her next call, obviously, was to the police. Now, one of our students is officially missing”
My mind was overwhelmed with questions.
The playful grin that was on his face when I first told him of the demonstration was well and truly gone; replaced by an unshifting expression of grave concern. “The police found Jake’s phone in his room, and the final message sent details him going to find the source of a sound. They want to know what that means”
“Of…Of course. Do they need a formal statement?”
“I don’t know, you can ask them yourself, they want to talk to you as soon as we’re finished. Now, listen. Listen carefully. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how serious the consequences of this could be if Jake doesn’t turn up quickly. This experiment you ran, please tell me you ran some basic safety tests or ran a risk assessment?”
How could I have been so stupid. I didn’t so much as do a test run before the lesson, let alone do something as sensible as documenting a full risk assessment or investigate whether infrasound fell under COSHH regulations. My complete, unforgivable incompetence must have been written across my face because before I could answer Richard interrupted;
“You. strawberry floating. Fool.”
I had to focus all my strength to not burst into tears right there in his office. My eyes were damp but I maintained composure. “Answer me this, and you had better answer truthfully” Richard continued. “Do you have any cause for any form of concern for any of your other students.”
“Amy” I uttered quietly, still staring at my hands to avoid revealing my increasingly watery eyes.
“What?”
I raised my head to meet his accusatory gaze.
“Amy Sunderland. She approached me after the class today to ask-“ My heart stopped. Stood over each of Richard’s shoulders were two towering shadowy figures. Through the blur of my tears I couldn’t make out even basic features, I wasn’t even sure they had any, all I could see were that they were definitely human shaped. I was frozen with dread and feeling of deep panic started welling up in my stomach.
“What? What did Amy ask?”
I rubbed my eyes dry in order to answer him. Once I’d cleared my sight, the figures were gone. I looked around, but there was nothing and no one else there anymore.
“ANSWER ME, DAMMIT”
“She… She asked if I had the speakers on during today’s lesson. I tried to ask her why but she wouldn’t answer me.”
“And did you have them on?”
“No.”
“Right. Tell the police that. Tell them everything. I’ll send them in.” Richard stood up to leave and walked towards the door. I felt him stand behind me and place a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I couldn’t believe how irresponsible I’d been. How reckless. I’d been so caught up in my own ambition that I hadn’t taken even basic precautions and now I was paying for it. I just hoped Jake was alright. I knew Richard was furious with me, but feeling his protective hand on my shoulder meant maybe there was a way to fix it all.
I heard Richard outside telling the officers to head in.
Wait, Richard was outside? Then who’s hand was…
I spun round to see an empty room. I desperately tried to contain the panic now coursing through my veins. What was happening to me? It was just a strawberry floating illusion.
Two officers entered the room.
“Good morning, thank you for talking with us. Now, tell me about infrasound…”
Through the tension I almost laughed.
Where to begin?
…
I’d rarely seen police officers as young as the two opposite me. They lacked the authoritative confidence one would normally expect during questioning in a missing child case. The questions too were meandering and unfocused, as though the officers really didn’t know what they were actually trying to achieve or elicit from me. My guess was that they were junior dogsbodies who had been lumped with the dull task of closing off a dead end lead. When a child goes missing, every lead needs to be chased, if only to protect the force against accusations of neglect if the search fails. But Jake was a troubled kid and I knew he’d been caught dealing weed to other pupils. I imagine that the officer in charge of the case had a stack of leads that provided far more plausible explanations as to why a kid with links to the local low level drug dealers might mysteriously go missing in the night. He wasn’t going to waste his best officers chasing down a science teacher using strange noises to fill a room with ghosts. These officers were here on a glorified admin mission, I could see their resentment in their eyes.
But, for their lack of experience and motivation, they were diligent nonetheless. They wanted more detail about the nature of infrasound and what it could mean in the context of Jake’s text. So, we discussed it in some detail. I delievered a mini-science lesson in the nature of low-frequency wave energy, natural resonance and how the retina could be fooled into seeing things that weren’t there. Describing it was almost therapeutic given everything that had just happened. As I’d felt my grasp on reality slipping, it was good to go over the simple, rational explanation for it to help regain my grip.
I answered all of their questions about Jake. Apparently all they found on Jake’s home computer was a few articles about shadow people and ghosts, as well as a few research articles on unrelated medical procedures. They wanted to know if the two could be linked but I explained that Jake’s mum was a nurse in the nearby hospital. If anyone was searching for ‘Methycillin-Resistant Staph. Aureus treatments’ or ‘Subcranial Haematomas’ or ‘Phacoemulsification techniques’ then it was probably her. Shadow people and YouPorn though, that sounded more like Jake.
Eventually, they had not further questions.Though their theories were obviously not something I was supposed to be privy to, their relative greenness as officers meant they let slip more than they should when exchanging tidbits. From what I could gather, they thought that my experiment had probably spooked him, leading to a sleepless night. In his insomnia, he’d probably tried to sneak out to visit a girlfriend but had fallen afoul of one of his less amiable contacts en route. There was an implication that, even at 15, Jake already owed some serious people money. The officers had what they needed to close this lead. I was thanked for my help and they left.
Richard seemed visibly relieved when I explained to him everything we’d talked about. He’d clearly been driving himself crazy thinking that the cops were investigating a case of neglect at the school and that he was going to be facing legal action over inappropriate experiments being conducted in the classroom. However, although the panic had faded, his anger had not.
“Clean up this mess. Now. Talk to all your students from yesterday, find out if any of them are still having problems and fix it. Make sure they know there’s nothing to worry about. If I get so much of a report of a broken night’s sleep from one of their parents then you’re finished.”
I sent messages out to all the students and asked them to come see me as soon as possible as Richard had agreed to cover the rest of my day’s classes. I interviewed them one by one, asking what they’d seen since the experiment. Most told stories about occasional glimpses of something in the dark. One told me that he was so scared that he hadn’t been able to do any of his homework. ‘Nice try’ I thought, but I kept my solemn face on. However, most had been able to nod off eventually and few complained of anything further stretching into the daytime. In fact, when really pushed, most seemed to agree that anything they had seen was just their imagination going into overdrive. Secretly, I had my doubts as to how many of their visions truly were imaginary but the calmer they were the less they were affected and if they truly did see fewer shadows the less they believed, then I was going to let them carry on and watch the problem solve itself.
The end of the day came and I looked over the register of the class to see who I’d managed to talk to. I’d managed to tick off everyone bar two. Jake and Amy.
I hadn’t seen Amy all day since she approached me after the lesson. I hurried to the admin department to report it but Amy had apparently been picked up by her father earlier that morning, claiming to be suffering from a massive headache. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could talk to her tomorrow and hopefully another night’s sleep would put the whole thing to bed. With Amy safe at home, the day over and Jake still nowhere to be found, I went back to my place.
I poured myself a whisky and stood at my window, watching the sun go down over the city horizon. It was normally a beautiful sight, this view was one of the principal reasons I paid so much for this flat, but today it held no such pleasure. The sun got lower and I watched as the tall building’s shadows elongated into the evening. There was something about the way the shadows were creeping across the streets and over the hedges and walls towards my windows that set my heart racing. Of course, it was just the angle of the sun but for all the panic of the last two days it was difficult not to feel an almost predatory feel to their approach. The way the shadows snaked through the trees and poured through my windows. The way the black imprints of the lampposts and power lines created long, grasping fingers that crawled up into my room. Soon, the whole city seemed to be cloaked in a dusky twilight and every shadow seemed to writhe and pulsate. The wind blew the trees and the shadows swayed on my walls like a cobra waiting to strike.
I downed the whisky and threw on all the lights for comfort but there was no comfort to be had. The harsh, bright lights just turned my flat into a patchwork of shadows. Behind the couch, behind the TV, over the cupboards and anywhere that bright central light couldn’t reach was suddenly turned into a pool of darkness. A darkness that stared and watched and waited and mocked. A darkness that demanded to hold my gaze just so that it could gaze right back at me.
I poured another whisky, bringing it to my mouth and taking a deep swig when, through the distorting lens of the bottom of the glass I saw a blurry, dark figure stood in front of me.
I was paralysed.
The whisky slopped against my teeth and burned my tongue but I didn’t dare swallow.
I didn’t dare move.
I just watched as the shadowy figure towered, motionless, begging me to react.
An eternity passed in between the poundings of my heart.
The vapour of the whisky almost tickled my nostrils and in that moment of lapsed concentration the shadowy figure charged at me. I screamed and flailed, sending my glass shattering against the nearby wall.
But then, nothing.
In the instant our gaze had broken, the figure was gone.
I stood, panting and breathless, my heart beating so loud I couldn’t hear. I was sweating burnt adrenaline and shaking so hard my teeth were chattering. I brought my hand up and, grabbing a handful of hair I collapsed backwards against the cupboard and slid to the floor. If not believing was the key to not seeing these… Things, then I was doomed forever. Gavreau was right, he must have been, these ghosts were already here, I just let them out. But what did they want?
I don’t know how long I sat there for, it felt like hours. Soon, though, I found my composure, and found the courage to stand up. I poured another whisky.
But the shadows were still there, in every alcove and nook and cranny of furniture there was another drape of shadow waiting to pounce. I had to get out of that place, right then.
I wandered the streets until I found an internet café that was open until late. Better still, they too had whisky.
I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing, just blind, meaningless surfing of anything that came to mind. Given the evening I’d had, pictures of kittens were a central theme.
However, through my aimless googling, one particular results page came up. Result one, as usual, was a Wiki article. I figured there was no harm in reading it in case anyone ever asked, so I clicked it.
I felt my stomach lurch and my heart sink.
I fumbled for my phone and dialled 999.
I knew where Jake was.
I just hoped I was in time.
…
By the time I got to the hospital, the police were already there. I should have known there was no way the hospital would let me see Jake, but the police were very eager to talk.
My tongue couldn’t keep pace with my brain and the gargled mess of questions that I barraged the police with were barely coherent. An officer I hadn’t met before raised an authoritative hand to silence me. “Please, Sir, follow me. We have some further questions”
“Is he alright?”
“Sir, if you’d please just follow me”
I was ushered into a small room and sat down on a squeaky and uncomfortable chair. The officer took his place behind the desk. What the hell was this room? What kind of hospital had an interrogation room? The officer was not one I recognised, he certainly wasn’t with the two who questioned me earlier. He was older, comfortably so, a good ten years without a doubt He was also harder, and more experienced. His stony face revealed nothing of his intentions or how much he knew, and I imagined that, unlike the two rookies who questioned me earlier, I wasn’t going to find a damn thing he didn’t want me to know.
“You’re Jake’s teacher, correct? The one who placed the 999 call?”
“Yes, that’s me. Is Jake alright?”
“No. But he will survive.”
I couldn’t tell whether to be relieved or not, the officer’s poker face refused to let slip anything that could calm my fears for Jake.
“But he’s alive?”
“Yes. Now, tell me, how did you know where to find Jake? How did you know he’d be here?”
“It was a guess, something your officers asked me about earlier.”
He held my gaze, revealing nothing and taunting me into carrying on.
“Your officers… That is, I… The infrasound…”
“Yes, this ‘Ghost Noise’ noise of yours” He interrupted with the tone of a man sick of entertaining the idea that there was anything at play here other than an off the rails kid in trouble. However, there was the faintest flicker of doubt in his eyes, as though he’d seen something he couldn’t reconcile with his foregone conclusion.
“The infrasound interferes with your eye’s lens. It makes you see things that aren’t there. Terrible things. Jake’s text about turning off the noise made me think that he was still seeing them, and that maybe that had something to do with his disappearance”
The officer remained stoic – I had no doubt this was a man well versed in allowing criminals to hang themselves with their words with nothing other than the blunt force of silence.
“Then, this morning, your officers were talking to me about things that were in Jake’s search history. Most of it was unsurprising given the nature of the vision and the nature of him being a 15 year old boy. Then they mentioned some medical terms he’d also been searching for. At first, I figured they were from his mum as she’s a nurse, and I didn’t see any connection between them and the infrasonic visions”
Still nothing. The officer was going to wait until I’d told him everything before he played his hand in return.
“Out of curiosity, I googled the ones I hadn’t heard of.”
The faintest twitch disturbed the officer’s rigid gaze.
“Phacoemulsification” I finally spilt my finding. “It’s a form of eye surgery based on using ultrasound to break up cataracts. I saw Jake’s logic straight away. I’d strawberry floated up his eyes using infrasound, maybe he thought he could fix them using ultrasound. I knew with his mum working here he’d know the layout and maybe even have the means gain access to the relevant wards. That was when I called you. Now, please, tell what happened to Jake.”
At this point my mind was almost at breaking point. I just needed to know what was happening.
The officer took his time to consider revealing what he knew. Eventually, he leaned in close and said softly. “Jake Tandy blinded himself using the ultrasonic equipment in the ophthalmology lab. I don’t know whether that was what he’d intended to do, but that was the result.“
My jaw dropped.
“He directed two focused waves of ultrasound into each eye and destroyed the lens and retina. Nurses found him curled by the still-running machine. When they tried to approach him, he lashed out at the sound of their approaching footsteps and screamed to be left alone. He calmed as soon as he heard their voices sobbing apologies for his outburst, saying ‘I thought you were them’. The nurses said he simply kept repeating ‘they’re gone, I can’t see them, they’re gone, I can’t see them’ as they took him to intensive care. He was smiling”
I was going to be sick. I’m so sorry Jake, I truly am. I never intended for any of this. Please believe me.
“Will he… Is he…” I stammered.
“As I said, he will live. But there’s no way to save his sight and he will need extensive therapy”
At this point, the officer leaned in closer, he had the same look of steely authority on his face that Richard had when he originally questioned me about the other affected pupils. He was mentally searching for something, anything, that could be used to pin this on me. But he was falling short. There were no regulations in place regarding infrasound, even in a concentrated experiment, so they couldn’t even charge me with professional misconduct let alone assault. I was free to go.
Instead, he simply held my gaze, and asked in a bullying tone;
‘Anything else to tell me?’
There were hundreds of things. I wanted to tell him Jake was right, I wanted to tell him we were both being stalked by the shadowy beings. I wanted to tell him my apartment was an inhospitable orgy of demonic headfuckery. But I didn’t, at this point I must already have looked insane enough without the truth making things worse. I simply whimpered ‘No’ like a kicked puppy.
“In that case, you’re free to go. But look’, he said, softening his tone momentarily, ‘if you think of anything else, here’s my number”
I was walking out of the hospital car park when a thought hit me like a brick.
“Amy!”
I'd failed Jake, and for that I could never forgive myself. But I could still save Amy. Oh please, let me be in time to save Amy. I immediately called the detective.
“I'm still at the hospital, can you meet me downstairs? I've thought of someone you need to speak to" I told him.
When the officer arrived in the cold, comfortingly well-lit hospital reception area. I told him "You need to send someone to check on Amy Sunderland. She went home complaining of headaches and she too complained of seeing the same shadows as Jake long after the experiment finished.”
“I don’t see any reports of a missing Amy Sunderland”
“She’s not missing, she’s at home. Her father collected her from school today”
“Listen, I appreciate your concern but I can’t send officers over to someone’s house to see if a 15 year old girl has recovered from a headache.”
“Just, please, send someone. I don’t know her address but her parents are Lydia and Jim Sunderland. I think she might be in danger. She reported exactly the same symptoms as Jake, just a few hours behind. If she’s following the same path then we might not have long to prevent the same thing happening again. Please."
The officer fell silent. This wasn’t the same authoritative silence he’d used to intimidate me during questioning, this was the genuine sound of indecision. He’d had a shitty night, just because Jake had been found didn’t mean his case was closed, and he still had the shitstorm of having to discover how a missing 15 year boy had been able to get access to hospital equipment and blind himself. He was weighing up whether he could justify sending officers to check on the girl given the crime scene at the hospital.
My face must have swayed him, after all, the only reason Jake was found at all was because of my hunch, so he figured it was better safe than sorry.
He pulled the walkie talkie to his mouth. “Send a car round to check on the house of Lydia and James Sunderland”
“Could you repeat the names?” crackled a male voice on the other end.
“Lydia and Jim Sunderland, parents of Amy Sunderland” He repeated.
“Sir, I don’t understand? You want another car sent there?” came the voice, still seeking clarification.
“What do you mean, ‘another’?”
“Two cars already visited this evening, Sir, accompanying the ambulance, in order to assess the scene and question the parents”
The professional façade the man had put on this morning was dying in front of me. His ashen face looked ready to crumble as the implications sunk in. He looked like he wanted to shoo me away in case I overheard important information, but he didn't.
“What happened?” He quizzed the still nonplussed radio operator.
“Sorry, Sir, I thought you knew"
"They don't allow phones in the hospital, I haven't been updated on anything for an hour or so, tell me"
"Sir, Amy Sunderland was found dead in her room this evening, she bled to death after clawing her eyes out. Her parents had left her sleeping off a migraine to go the cinema, and found her when they returned.”
My world broke.
I’d failed Jake. I’d failed Amy. I’d failed everyone.
I don’t even know what happened next, in a mindless daze I drifted home. It was gone midnight by this point, barely 48 hours since I’d found that damn article. Two days ago I’d been a self-pitying teacher with a tough class and a lack of balls. I now had the weight of Jake’s sight and Amy’s life crushing me. Through the aimless glaze that was my vision I stumbled home. I didn’t care.
The shadows in the streets, in the bushes, in the alleys and between the cars seemed thicker. Almost solid. Tangible. They seemed to reach for me, grasp me, touch me, grab me. I even felt fingers on my bare skin at times. Chilled scratches ran up my arms and down my neck. But I didn’t care.
When I got to my door, I opened it and looked into my shadowy flat. The darkness here was alive now, I could feel it. At this point, I don’t think even turning the light on could have dissipated the sea of writhing blackness that had engulfed my home. It pulsed and swayed and seemed to breathe as I stared into it. It wasn’t just figures anymore, it was dozens of them. All dancing and mocking and taunting and begging me to join them. Inky black tendrils snaked out of the door way and over the hallway walls like the branches of some foul tree growing out to produce some fouler fruit. Snakes of writhing black snuck across the floor towards my feet. Whatever I’d brought forth with my little science lesson wasn’t going away, and wasn’t going to let me go. It still had another 30 kids to claim from my mistake. I could think of nothing else to sate them.
So, as the horrific fingers of whatever lived in those shadows continued to climb up legs, I simply walked in and closed the door behind me.
I didn’t care.
I'm sorry.
Every now and then though, you’d get a really tough group. It was even worse when it came to teaching a subject that they found particularly dull. One class in particular was an unholy boiling pot of hormone-fuelled disruption. I would love to say I didn’t consider them bad kids but the inbuilt liberal side most teachers have hardwired into them can only take so much punishment. They all had their reasons, of course; broken homes, runaway parents, bad areas, drugs, alcohol, or just plain learning and development needs that we didn’t have the time or the funds to accommodate properly. But with all the justification in the world, it didn’t stop every lesson with them blurring that fine line between learning and riot control.
I even approached my head of year for advice or support. He was normally a man who preached the gospel of ‘no-child-left-behind’ and ‘every-child-matters’ with religious fervour, however, even he, having provided cover teaching for the group in a pinch, simply looked at me with sunken, defeated eyes and told me ‘You’re on your own with them mate’. The best he could offer would be to steer the school observations away from those classes and to cast a sympathetic eye over my end of year results. A token gesture and it didn’t stop the lessons being a constant struggle to retain control.
For instance, one kid, Jake, took a lesson about Evolution and survival of the fittest to be a personal challenge to his finely honed fighting skills, and the rest of lesson was primarily concerned with me attempting to stop the class degenerating into a Battle Royale. I taught a lesson about the alkali metals (a family of metals which have a violent reaction with water) by putting a tiny pea-sized amount in a bowl of water and letting them see it skitter around before popping with a tiny bang. This lesson was rewarded by a break-in to the chemical cupboard that night that was followed by a missing 100g block of Potassium and a ‘mysterious explosion’ that destroyed half the plumbing in the gym’s shower block.
I was out of ideas and at the end of my tether, and had resigned myself to simply embracing my new role as riot officer and condemning the class to oblivion. However, I had one of those soul-searching moments and thought that, no, everyone deserves one last chance. It was my class, my subject and dammit I was a grown-ass man and would not be defeated by a bunch of foul-mouthed wanking little scrotes. I checked the curriculum and the next subject to be taught would be sound waves, ultrasound and sub-sonic waves in particular. So now all I had to find was the hook to draw them in. Had I known what would happen, I would have stopped right there.
But, I didn’t. I plowed on, trying to find some way to make the subject of sound waves you can’t hear interesting. I found plenty of experiments; using ultrasound to break glass (I didn’t fancy giving them any excuse to break glass), using it to break up kidney stones (the kids knew enough about weapons, thanks), or the way animals use it for navigation (but I didn’t fancy teaching them to add horrific screeches to their Batman impressions). I’d all but given up on finding anything useful when I stumbled across an article on scientific explanations for the paranormal based on sounds that existed outside of normal hearing range.
The article was fascinating. See, a Scientist called Gavreau had noticed that certain areas of a particular laboratory made anyone who worked there feel uneasy and scared. Some went as far as to say they’d seen ghosts and shadowy figures in that part of the lab. Few would dare work there, and fewer would dare twice. Being a man of science, the researcher rejected any supernatural claims and set up monitoring equipment around the area to investigate. What he found was that the area was a hotbed of subsonic sound waves. There were all kinds of research equipment in and around the lab like centrifuges and auto-stirrers and incubators; all creating sound waves inaudible to the human ear but that created a feeling of dread and terror in anyone that was subjected to them.
Paranormal research critics were quick to point out that whilst sub-sonic waves might account for the feelings of dread, they asked how this explains the visions of ghostly and shadowy figures that were also reported in the lab? Gavreau postulated that the waves caused the front of the eyes to vibrate, and that this could distort sight, inducing visions of horrific shadow-men and other tormentors. I even read that Gavreau was planning to expand his research into whether this might explain other ghost reports. For instance, the huge increase in ‘ghost’ sightings during building projects like extensions to the London Underground tube lines (often blamed on disturbed graves and inappropriate planners) may be nothing more than the sub-sonic waves caused by the digging machines.
Yes! This was perfect! I couldn’t believe my luck. It was such a simple experiment to set up in a classroom, and even the most hardened little thug gets quickly silenced when they think ghosts are in the room. Then once they’re thoroughly terrified – BAM – Science! I was grinning from ear to ear at this point, I couldn’t wait. For the first time ever, I was actually looking forward to the next lesson. I was so naïve, I should have looked deeper. The irony of the fact that everything that unfolded from here on out is down to the fact that I, teacher of the worst class in the country, didn’t do my homework would have been hilarious were it not for the tragedy of what was to come.
I finished my lesson plan and went to bed, getting the last good night’s sleep I’d ever enjoy.
I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.
…
The morning came and I still had a confident spring in my step. I even treated myself to a nice coffee on the way to work. I started doing that criminal thing that you do when you think you’ve had a good idea and let the fantasy run away with itself. After all, I’d just figured out how I was going to control that class! My head of year didn’t know how to do that! Maybe this would lead to a promotion, maybe I’d be next in line for the head of department. Maybe I could include it in the book I was going to write about controlling classrooms, maybe I’d be invited on to TV to explain how I’d turned this obnoxious class around. I knew I was getting way ahead of myself but hey, it was a daydream for the commute, where was the harm in letting it run a little?
I got to my room and started setting up the equipment. They were going to be my first class of the day so I wouldn’t have to wait forever which was lucky because at this point I could barely contain myself.
The equipment was very simple, there was going to be a simple speaker at the front of the classroom which was going to be the focal point of the display, but in the back corners there was going to be a simple setup of a couple of metal plates held in front of electromagnets. They were all going to be set to the same sub sonic frequency that Gavreau had used, and I hoped the acoustics of the room would amplify the effect.
The class piled in and took their places. They were already starting to play up but a couple were disquieted by the calm, confident look on my face. There wasn’t much that gave any of their teachers cause for that kind of collected facial expression in their classes, most had a look of barely concealed fear and trepidation, so to see me looking like a hindu cow shook their confidence. I had to capitalise on this brief period of crumbled bravado before they collected themselves. “SOUND” I bellowed. “What is it?”
My question was met with stony silence, as most of my attempts to engage with them were.
“Sound is a form of wave energy that, for the most part, allows us to hear things”. I subtly turned on the speakers to their sub-sonic frequency. It was at a low amplitude, so it’s unlikely anyone would be perceiving anything yet.
“However, scientists are still discovering new ways that the body interacts with energy in all its forms. Every day we find out new mechanisms by which the body is sensitive to energy. Every day we find a new way to explain the unexplainable by using rigorous scientific method to observe, predict, experiment and analyse” – I tweaked the intensity up a few notches and saw a few of their bored expressions shift to one much less complacent.
I was loving this, truly loving it. I almost didn’t know whether I was getting an adrenaline rush from finally controlling this unruly class or whether the sound waves were starting to get to me too. There was a bubbling panic growing in my chest, but I was sure that was just down to the excitement of the position. Even if I was also being affected (no reason why I wouldn’t be, just because I aware of it), at least I knew that I was in control.
“And if you kids really apply yourself, really buckle down and stop giving me gooseberry fool” (I couldn’t believe I’d just sworn at my class, the excitement was almost too much) “Then maybe you’d be able to use science to achieve something-“I paused and scanned over their increasingly distressed faces to ensure I really had them before I went for the grand finale. “-REALLY SPECIAL”.
I cranked the intensity of the sound wave up to full. I saw an instant shift in their demeanour. It was beautiful. A few started crying, some hid their eyes, some were just frantically looking around, wondering if they were the only ones and quickly seeing that they weren’t.
I almost started scaring myself. I looked across their terrified faces, watched them start scrambling and pleading with me and each other and God and anyone to make it stop. This started to feel like revenge rather than science. Every crappy lesson, every fight, every interruption, every curse, every punch and every missed piece of homework was all avenged as I watched the class descend into pure terrified panic.
Then there was a shift, I don’t know why I’d been slower to respond but all of a sudden the sound waves got me too. All of a sudden, I saw what they were seeing. I understood their fear. Shadowy figures swooped and darted around the peripheries of my vision. The corner of my eye was a dance of barely-seen terrors. However, when one of the shadows appeared to dash right across the classroom I realised I’d gone too far. This was terrifying even for me and I knew none of it was real. This needed to stop, now, before it went any further.
I killed the power to all speakers.
Instantly, the room was back to normal. No figures, no shadows, nothing clawing at the extremities of your vision, just another classroom full of clearly unsettled children. I regained control of myself and calmly explained to the class exactly what had happened. We went into detail about sound waves, energy transfer, the retina, the eye’s lenses, the whole lot. I knew I’d way overstepped the mark and I didn’t want to send a single child out until I was sure they knew that it was all an illusion. That there were no ghosts, no evil shadows; just a scientific trick of the mind.
Most of the class had recovered by the time they needed to leave for their next lesson. A couple still shaken, but I was satisfied that all they needed was a bit of a sit down. I’d certainly knocked them down a peg or two. Amazingly, Jake even looked me right in the eye and said ‘Nice one’ before moving on.
I was in a better mood than I’d been all year. I told the head of year and he let out a laugh so loud and appreciative I was sure half the surrounding classes had heard. ‘God, I wish I’d been there’ he chuckled. He then put his stern professional face on and said ‘But you should really run these kind of things past me first, if one of their parents complains…’ he trailed off, before looking at me again and letting his stern façade break into another wide, appreciative grin.
I stayed on cloud nine until later that evening. Everything was fine until the sun went down and it started getting a bit dark. I could have sworn I saw another shadow dart into hiding out of the corner of my eye. First time it happened, I was still full of bravado thinking ‘I know what caused that, it must be the roadworks down the street. The pneumatic drill must be vibrating my windows just right’. At that point, I actually believed myself.
However, as the light continued to fade, the twilight carried on playing tricks on me. I kept seeing dancing in the shadows long after road crews had gone home. I tried just getting an early night, but I couldn’t. As soon as I felt myself drifting off, I’d see more movement in the shadows. Hard as I tried, I kept seeing the darkness moving. They kept darting around. They darted towards, away and around me. Sometimes they looked like they were just standing there, other times they looked like they were ready to jump on me.
My imagination was driving me wild. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I bottled out, turned on all the lights and went on the internet. Unable to think of anything more constructive, I researched a bit more about Gavreau’s findings.
Why didn’t I do this before.
Gavreau’s scientific studies had tapered away rather rapidly after his sub-sonic discovery. From what I could see, they were replaced with increasingly erratic and less reliable conjecture about the nature and power of the sounds and the shadows. Most of his academic companions deserted him as he got more and more unhinged. I remembered the power I felt manipulating the class and I remembered having to tell myself that it was just an illusion. What if Gavreau lost that grip on reality? What if he kept pushing it until he forgot the science and believed his own pranks?
I was hardly comforted when I found out that his final conclusion from his final published research paper, widely discredited by all who found it, was that the sound didn’t make you see ghosts.
The sound let you see the ghosts that were already there.
And they didn’t appreciate being seen.
I couldn’t sleep a wink.
It didn’t look like any of the class did either when I saw them the next day. Saggy-eyed, drowsy and yawning, I asked them what was up.
“I kept seeing the shadows, Sir.” Said one, and many murmured in agreement.
Worse though was that one student hadn’t turned up at all. Jake was absent. Not especially unusual, a lot of the students played truant when given a chance. But something didn’t sit right. I asked if any of the students had heard anything from him.
One girl timidly replied ‘He texted me last night, Sir. Said he couldn’t sleep. Said he needed to find what was making the sound so he could turn it off.’
I just hope he found it.
I just hope he got some sleep.
I hoped we all would.
…
For good measure, I spent the remainder of the lesson going over the science behind my little illusion again in order to try and allay their uncertainties and fears. It was almost funny, this lesson went even better than the previous one as every student was held in a rapt state of attention. The whole class clung onto my every word. They took notes, drew diagrams, asked deep and pertinent questions on and around the subject, and they even completed all of their group work with nary a ripple of disruption.
I understood, of course, exactly what they were doing. They were trying their very best to understand what had happened to them yesterday so that they could really try and put it behind them. I’d always seen scientists as brave pioneers into the unknown, but looking across their steadily brightening faces I saw how science could just as easily be a comforting blanket; a rational barrier against the demons of the unknown.
By the end of the class, the horror of the previous day seemed to have well and truly faded and replaced by a joking camaraderie. Kids who would normally have been at each other’s throats in group sessions were working without issue. They even seemed positively friendly with each other, in a way only a group who’ve experienced a shared hardship could be. It was a fantastic sight, my earlier doubts about whether I’d gone too far were still there but, to look at them working productively and peacefully with each other, it was difficult to be too concerned. Jake still played on my mind though. I’m sure he was fine, he made truancy into an art form, but his texts about needing to ‘turn off the sound’ in the middle of the night, still made me nervous.
But the lesson had one last shot for my nerves in store. It concluded without issue and, concerns for Jake aside, I genuinely thought that maybe I’d turned a corner with this class. I’d need to be far more careful if I was going to use it with any other classes in future though, I had been completely unprepared for the intensity of the visions and the feelings of sheer terror. But it didn’t seem to be anything that a bit of personal experimentation with the equipment couldn’t refine in order to get the right level, and just looking at the quality of work that class had just produced it was going to be easy to get the Head of Science to sign off on the experiment for further use.
I was still running through these thoughts and contemplating what modifications to try next when, as the class were leaving, one girl asked to see me for a minute. In the now-empty classroom she stood, staring at intently at her shoes and refusing to look me in the eye.
‘What is it, Amy?’
She shifted her weight uncomfortably.
“Sir…. Did…..” – She was having trouble formulating her question. “Were the speakers on just then?”
“When?”
“During the lesson”
“No, why?”
The colour drained from her face as she weakly answered “Oh…Nothing…. Nothing”
She scuttled out of the room, clearly needing to be anywhere but in that classroom. I wanted to call after her, chase her even in order to clarify what she meant but I was distracted by something skittering across the room out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t get a clear look, and by the time I’d spun round to try and see, it had gone. I turned back to the corridor to shout after Amy but she too had disappeared just as suddenly.
Her question had disturbed me, and my mind returned to Jake. I used the morning break to contact the office to see if there was any word on him. “Jake. Jake Tandy. Class G2. Any word from him or his parents as to where he is today?” I asked the office girl in charge of monitoring attendance. She was about to answer when a grey smudge darted across the doorway to my right and pulled my attention away. I was still staring intently at the door when, out of nowhere, Richard, my head of year, stuck his head into the room and asked to borrow me for a moment.
He ushered me in to his office and closed the door.
“Jake Tandy was reported missing as of 9:30am this morning”
“What? By whom?”
“His mother. When she noticed he wasn’t in bed this morning she called round a couple of his girlfriends’ houses to find out if he’d snuck out there in the night. None of them had seen them. When she called us to find out if he was in school, we told her he wasn’t here. Her next call, obviously, was to the police. Now, one of our students is officially missing”
My mind was overwhelmed with questions.
The playful grin that was on his face when I first told him of the demonstration was well and truly gone; replaced by an unshifting expression of grave concern. “The police found Jake’s phone in his room, and the final message sent details him going to find the source of a sound. They want to know what that means”
“Of…Of course. Do they need a formal statement?”
“I don’t know, you can ask them yourself, they want to talk to you as soon as we’re finished. Now, listen. Listen carefully. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how serious the consequences of this could be if Jake doesn’t turn up quickly. This experiment you ran, please tell me you ran some basic safety tests or ran a risk assessment?”
How could I have been so stupid. I didn’t so much as do a test run before the lesson, let alone do something as sensible as documenting a full risk assessment or investigate whether infrasound fell under COSHH regulations. My complete, unforgivable incompetence must have been written across my face because before I could answer Richard interrupted;
“You. strawberry floating. Fool.”
I had to focus all my strength to not burst into tears right there in his office. My eyes were damp but I maintained composure. “Answer me this, and you had better answer truthfully” Richard continued. “Do you have any cause for any form of concern for any of your other students.”
“Amy” I uttered quietly, still staring at my hands to avoid revealing my increasingly watery eyes.
“What?”
I raised my head to meet his accusatory gaze.
“Amy Sunderland. She approached me after the class today to ask-“ My heart stopped. Stood over each of Richard’s shoulders were two towering shadowy figures. Through the blur of my tears I couldn’t make out even basic features, I wasn’t even sure they had any, all I could see were that they were definitely human shaped. I was frozen with dread and feeling of deep panic started welling up in my stomach.
“What? What did Amy ask?”
I rubbed my eyes dry in order to answer him. Once I’d cleared my sight, the figures were gone. I looked around, but there was nothing and no one else there anymore.
“ANSWER ME, DAMMIT”
“She… She asked if I had the speakers on during today’s lesson. I tried to ask her why but she wouldn’t answer me.”
“And did you have them on?”
“No.”
“Right. Tell the police that. Tell them everything. I’ll send them in.” Richard stood up to leave and walked towards the door. I felt him stand behind me and place a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I couldn’t believe how irresponsible I’d been. How reckless. I’d been so caught up in my own ambition that I hadn’t taken even basic precautions and now I was paying for it. I just hoped Jake was alright. I knew Richard was furious with me, but feeling his protective hand on my shoulder meant maybe there was a way to fix it all.
I heard Richard outside telling the officers to head in.
Wait, Richard was outside? Then who’s hand was…
I spun round to see an empty room. I desperately tried to contain the panic now coursing through my veins. What was happening to me? It was just a strawberry floating illusion.
Two officers entered the room.
“Good morning, thank you for talking with us. Now, tell me about infrasound…”
Through the tension I almost laughed.
Where to begin?
…
I’d rarely seen police officers as young as the two opposite me. They lacked the authoritative confidence one would normally expect during questioning in a missing child case. The questions too were meandering and unfocused, as though the officers really didn’t know what they were actually trying to achieve or elicit from me. My guess was that they were junior dogsbodies who had been lumped with the dull task of closing off a dead end lead. When a child goes missing, every lead needs to be chased, if only to protect the force against accusations of neglect if the search fails. But Jake was a troubled kid and I knew he’d been caught dealing weed to other pupils. I imagine that the officer in charge of the case had a stack of leads that provided far more plausible explanations as to why a kid with links to the local low level drug dealers might mysteriously go missing in the night. He wasn’t going to waste his best officers chasing down a science teacher using strange noises to fill a room with ghosts. These officers were here on a glorified admin mission, I could see their resentment in their eyes.
But, for their lack of experience and motivation, they were diligent nonetheless. They wanted more detail about the nature of infrasound and what it could mean in the context of Jake’s text. So, we discussed it in some detail. I delievered a mini-science lesson in the nature of low-frequency wave energy, natural resonance and how the retina could be fooled into seeing things that weren’t there. Describing it was almost therapeutic given everything that had just happened. As I’d felt my grasp on reality slipping, it was good to go over the simple, rational explanation for it to help regain my grip.
I answered all of their questions about Jake. Apparently all they found on Jake’s home computer was a few articles about shadow people and ghosts, as well as a few research articles on unrelated medical procedures. They wanted to know if the two could be linked but I explained that Jake’s mum was a nurse in the nearby hospital. If anyone was searching for ‘Methycillin-Resistant Staph. Aureus treatments’ or ‘Subcranial Haematomas’ or ‘Phacoemulsification techniques’ then it was probably her. Shadow people and YouPorn though, that sounded more like Jake.
Eventually, they had not further questions.Though their theories were obviously not something I was supposed to be privy to, their relative greenness as officers meant they let slip more than they should when exchanging tidbits. From what I could gather, they thought that my experiment had probably spooked him, leading to a sleepless night. In his insomnia, he’d probably tried to sneak out to visit a girlfriend but had fallen afoul of one of his less amiable contacts en route. There was an implication that, even at 15, Jake already owed some serious people money. The officers had what they needed to close this lead. I was thanked for my help and they left.
Richard seemed visibly relieved when I explained to him everything we’d talked about. He’d clearly been driving himself crazy thinking that the cops were investigating a case of neglect at the school and that he was going to be facing legal action over inappropriate experiments being conducted in the classroom. However, although the panic had faded, his anger had not.
“Clean up this mess. Now. Talk to all your students from yesterday, find out if any of them are still having problems and fix it. Make sure they know there’s nothing to worry about. If I get so much of a report of a broken night’s sleep from one of their parents then you’re finished.”
I sent messages out to all the students and asked them to come see me as soon as possible as Richard had agreed to cover the rest of my day’s classes. I interviewed them one by one, asking what they’d seen since the experiment. Most told stories about occasional glimpses of something in the dark. One told me that he was so scared that he hadn’t been able to do any of his homework. ‘Nice try’ I thought, but I kept my solemn face on. However, most had been able to nod off eventually and few complained of anything further stretching into the daytime. In fact, when really pushed, most seemed to agree that anything they had seen was just their imagination going into overdrive. Secretly, I had my doubts as to how many of their visions truly were imaginary but the calmer they were the less they were affected and if they truly did see fewer shadows the less they believed, then I was going to let them carry on and watch the problem solve itself.
The end of the day came and I looked over the register of the class to see who I’d managed to talk to. I’d managed to tick off everyone bar two. Jake and Amy.
I hadn’t seen Amy all day since she approached me after the lesson. I hurried to the admin department to report it but Amy had apparently been picked up by her father earlier that morning, claiming to be suffering from a massive headache. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could talk to her tomorrow and hopefully another night’s sleep would put the whole thing to bed. With Amy safe at home, the day over and Jake still nowhere to be found, I went back to my place.
I poured myself a whisky and stood at my window, watching the sun go down over the city horizon. It was normally a beautiful sight, this view was one of the principal reasons I paid so much for this flat, but today it held no such pleasure. The sun got lower and I watched as the tall building’s shadows elongated into the evening. There was something about the way the shadows were creeping across the streets and over the hedges and walls towards my windows that set my heart racing. Of course, it was just the angle of the sun but for all the panic of the last two days it was difficult not to feel an almost predatory feel to their approach. The way the shadows snaked through the trees and poured through my windows. The way the black imprints of the lampposts and power lines created long, grasping fingers that crawled up into my room. Soon, the whole city seemed to be cloaked in a dusky twilight and every shadow seemed to writhe and pulsate. The wind blew the trees and the shadows swayed on my walls like a cobra waiting to strike.
I downed the whisky and threw on all the lights for comfort but there was no comfort to be had. The harsh, bright lights just turned my flat into a patchwork of shadows. Behind the couch, behind the TV, over the cupboards and anywhere that bright central light couldn’t reach was suddenly turned into a pool of darkness. A darkness that stared and watched and waited and mocked. A darkness that demanded to hold my gaze just so that it could gaze right back at me.
I poured another whisky, bringing it to my mouth and taking a deep swig when, through the distorting lens of the bottom of the glass I saw a blurry, dark figure stood in front of me.
I was paralysed.
The whisky slopped against my teeth and burned my tongue but I didn’t dare swallow.
I didn’t dare move.
I just watched as the shadowy figure towered, motionless, begging me to react.
An eternity passed in between the poundings of my heart.
The vapour of the whisky almost tickled my nostrils and in that moment of lapsed concentration the shadowy figure charged at me. I screamed and flailed, sending my glass shattering against the nearby wall.
But then, nothing.
In the instant our gaze had broken, the figure was gone.
I stood, panting and breathless, my heart beating so loud I couldn’t hear. I was sweating burnt adrenaline and shaking so hard my teeth were chattering. I brought my hand up and, grabbing a handful of hair I collapsed backwards against the cupboard and slid to the floor. If not believing was the key to not seeing these… Things, then I was doomed forever. Gavreau was right, he must have been, these ghosts were already here, I just let them out. But what did they want?
I don’t know how long I sat there for, it felt like hours. Soon, though, I found my composure, and found the courage to stand up. I poured another whisky.
But the shadows were still there, in every alcove and nook and cranny of furniture there was another drape of shadow waiting to pounce. I had to get out of that place, right then.
I wandered the streets until I found an internet café that was open until late. Better still, they too had whisky.
I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was doing, just blind, meaningless surfing of anything that came to mind. Given the evening I’d had, pictures of kittens were a central theme.
However, through my aimless googling, one particular results page came up. Result one, as usual, was a Wiki article. I figured there was no harm in reading it in case anyone ever asked, so I clicked it.
I felt my stomach lurch and my heart sink.
I fumbled for my phone and dialled 999.
I knew where Jake was.
I just hoped I was in time.
…
By the time I got to the hospital, the police were already there. I should have known there was no way the hospital would let me see Jake, but the police were very eager to talk.
My tongue couldn’t keep pace with my brain and the gargled mess of questions that I barraged the police with were barely coherent. An officer I hadn’t met before raised an authoritative hand to silence me. “Please, Sir, follow me. We have some further questions”
“Is he alright?”
“Sir, if you’d please just follow me”
I was ushered into a small room and sat down on a squeaky and uncomfortable chair. The officer took his place behind the desk. What the hell was this room? What kind of hospital had an interrogation room? The officer was not one I recognised, he certainly wasn’t with the two who questioned me earlier. He was older, comfortably so, a good ten years without a doubt He was also harder, and more experienced. His stony face revealed nothing of his intentions or how much he knew, and I imagined that, unlike the two rookies who questioned me earlier, I wasn’t going to find a damn thing he didn’t want me to know.
“You’re Jake’s teacher, correct? The one who placed the 999 call?”
“Yes, that’s me. Is Jake alright?”
“No. But he will survive.”
I couldn’t tell whether to be relieved or not, the officer’s poker face refused to let slip anything that could calm my fears for Jake.
“But he’s alive?”
“Yes. Now, tell me, how did you know where to find Jake? How did you know he’d be here?”
“It was a guess, something your officers asked me about earlier.”
He held my gaze, revealing nothing and taunting me into carrying on.
“Your officers… That is, I… The infrasound…”
“Yes, this ‘Ghost Noise’ noise of yours” He interrupted with the tone of a man sick of entertaining the idea that there was anything at play here other than an off the rails kid in trouble. However, there was the faintest flicker of doubt in his eyes, as though he’d seen something he couldn’t reconcile with his foregone conclusion.
“The infrasound interferes with your eye’s lens. It makes you see things that aren’t there. Terrible things. Jake’s text about turning off the noise made me think that he was still seeing them, and that maybe that had something to do with his disappearance”
The officer remained stoic – I had no doubt this was a man well versed in allowing criminals to hang themselves with their words with nothing other than the blunt force of silence.
“Then, this morning, your officers were talking to me about things that were in Jake’s search history. Most of it was unsurprising given the nature of the vision and the nature of him being a 15 year old boy. Then they mentioned some medical terms he’d also been searching for. At first, I figured they were from his mum as she’s a nurse, and I didn’t see any connection between them and the infrasonic visions”
Still nothing. The officer was going to wait until I’d told him everything before he played his hand in return.
“Out of curiosity, I googled the ones I hadn’t heard of.”
The faintest twitch disturbed the officer’s rigid gaze.
“Phacoemulsification” I finally spilt my finding. “It’s a form of eye surgery based on using ultrasound to break up cataracts. I saw Jake’s logic straight away. I’d strawberry floated up his eyes using infrasound, maybe he thought he could fix them using ultrasound. I knew with his mum working here he’d know the layout and maybe even have the means gain access to the relevant wards. That was when I called you. Now, please, tell what happened to Jake.”
At this point my mind was almost at breaking point. I just needed to know what was happening.
The officer took his time to consider revealing what he knew. Eventually, he leaned in close and said softly. “Jake Tandy blinded himself using the ultrasonic equipment in the ophthalmology lab. I don’t know whether that was what he’d intended to do, but that was the result.“
My jaw dropped.
“He directed two focused waves of ultrasound into each eye and destroyed the lens and retina. Nurses found him curled by the still-running machine. When they tried to approach him, he lashed out at the sound of their approaching footsteps and screamed to be left alone. He calmed as soon as he heard their voices sobbing apologies for his outburst, saying ‘I thought you were them’. The nurses said he simply kept repeating ‘they’re gone, I can’t see them, they’re gone, I can’t see them’ as they took him to intensive care. He was smiling”
I was going to be sick. I’m so sorry Jake, I truly am. I never intended for any of this. Please believe me.
“Will he… Is he…” I stammered.
“As I said, he will live. But there’s no way to save his sight and he will need extensive therapy”
At this point, the officer leaned in closer, he had the same look of steely authority on his face that Richard had when he originally questioned me about the other affected pupils. He was mentally searching for something, anything, that could be used to pin this on me. But he was falling short. There were no regulations in place regarding infrasound, even in a concentrated experiment, so they couldn’t even charge me with professional misconduct let alone assault. I was free to go.
Instead, he simply held my gaze, and asked in a bullying tone;
‘Anything else to tell me?’
There were hundreds of things. I wanted to tell him Jake was right, I wanted to tell him we were both being stalked by the shadowy beings. I wanted to tell him my apartment was an inhospitable orgy of demonic headfuckery. But I didn’t, at this point I must already have looked insane enough without the truth making things worse. I simply whimpered ‘No’ like a kicked puppy.
“In that case, you’re free to go. But look’, he said, softening his tone momentarily, ‘if you think of anything else, here’s my number”
I was walking out of the hospital car park when a thought hit me like a brick.
“Amy!”
I'd failed Jake, and for that I could never forgive myself. But I could still save Amy. Oh please, let me be in time to save Amy. I immediately called the detective.
“I'm still at the hospital, can you meet me downstairs? I've thought of someone you need to speak to" I told him.
When the officer arrived in the cold, comfortingly well-lit hospital reception area. I told him "You need to send someone to check on Amy Sunderland. She went home complaining of headaches and she too complained of seeing the same shadows as Jake long after the experiment finished.”
“I don’t see any reports of a missing Amy Sunderland”
“She’s not missing, she’s at home. Her father collected her from school today”
“Listen, I appreciate your concern but I can’t send officers over to someone’s house to see if a 15 year old girl has recovered from a headache.”
“Just, please, send someone. I don’t know her address but her parents are Lydia and Jim Sunderland. I think she might be in danger. She reported exactly the same symptoms as Jake, just a few hours behind. If she’s following the same path then we might not have long to prevent the same thing happening again. Please."
The officer fell silent. This wasn’t the same authoritative silence he’d used to intimidate me during questioning, this was the genuine sound of indecision. He’d had a shitty night, just because Jake had been found didn’t mean his case was closed, and he still had the shitstorm of having to discover how a missing 15 year boy had been able to get access to hospital equipment and blind himself. He was weighing up whether he could justify sending officers to check on the girl given the crime scene at the hospital.
My face must have swayed him, after all, the only reason Jake was found at all was because of my hunch, so he figured it was better safe than sorry.
He pulled the walkie talkie to his mouth. “Send a car round to check on the house of Lydia and James Sunderland”
“Could you repeat the names?” crackled a male voice on the other end.
“Lydia and Jim Sunderland, parents of Amy Sunderland” He repeated.
“Sir, I don’t understand? You want another car sent there?” came the voice, still seeking clarification.
“What do you mean, ‘another’?”
“Two cars already visited this evening, Sir, accompanying the ambulance, in order to assess the scene and question the parents”
The professional façade the man had put on this morning was dying in front of me. His ashen face looked ready to crumble as the implications sunk in. He looked like he wanted to shoo me away in case I overheard important information, but he didn't.
“What happened?” He quizzed the still nonplussed radio operator.
“Sorry, Sir, I thought you knew"
"They don't allow phones in the hospital, I haven't been updated on anything for an hour or so, tell me"
"Sir, Amy Sunderland was found dead in her room this evening, she bled to death after clawing her eyes out. Her parents had left her sleeping off a migraine to go the cinema, and found her when they returned.”
My world broke.
I’d failed Jake. I’d failed Amy. I’d failed everyone.
I don’t even know what happened next, in a mindless daze I drifted home. It was gone midnight by this point, barely 48 hours since I’d found that damn article. Two days ago I’d been a self-pitying teacher with a tough class and a lack of balls. I now had the weight of Jake’s sight and Amy’s life crushing me. Through the aimless glaze that was my vision I stumbled home. I didn’t care.
The shadows in the streets, in the bushes, in the alleys and between the cars seemed thicker. Almost solid. Tangible. They seemed to reach for me, grasp me, touch me, grab me. I even felt fingers on my bare skin at times. Chilled scratches ran up my arms and down my neck. But I didn’t care.
When I got to my door, I opened it and looked into my shadowy flat. The darkness here was alive now, I could feel it. At this point, I don’t think even turning the light on could have dissipated the sea of writhing blackness that had engulfed my home. It pulsed and swayed and seemed to breathe as I stared into it. It wasn’t just figures anymore, it was dozens of them. All dancing and mocking and taunting and begging me to join them. Inky black tendrils snaked out of the door way and over the hallway walls like the branches of some foul tree growing out to produce some fouler fruit. Snakes of writhing black snuck across the floor towards my feet. Whatever I’d brought forth with my little science lesson wasn’t going away, and wasn’t going to let me go. It still had another 30 kids to claim from my mistake. I could think of nothing else to sate them.
So, as the horrific fingers of whatever lived in those shadows continued to climb up legs, I simply walked in and closed the door behind me.
I didn’t care.
I'm sorry.
Karl wrote:Can't believe I got baited into expressing a political stance on hentai
Skarjo's Scary Stories...
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abcd
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- AKA: abcd
PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by abcd » Wed Oct 31, 2012 4:51 pm
Anyone remember that story/blog about someone looking for a friend that went missing in a house or sumting....
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Mockmaster
- Moderator
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- Location: Cybertron
PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by Mockmaster » Wed Oct 31, 2012 4:53 pm
Do you mean Slenderman?
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abcd
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PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by abcd » Wed Oct 31, 2012 4:59 pm
Mockmaster wrote:Do you mean Slenderman?
no that's not it.
A lot of it was an e-mail conversation between two friends that hadn't seen each other for a while.
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Codename 47
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- Contact:
PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by Codename 47 » Wed Oct 31, 2012 5:20 pm
Neat idea for a thread 
I don't really go to much effort for Halloween but I have a feeling this thread will be more than enough to keep me entertained/scared for the night. 
On a side note, I've gotta say I do love Hulo's interesting thread, so much awesome stuff in there.
I don't really go to much effort for Halloween but I have a feeling this thread will be more than enough to keep me entertained/scared for the night. On a side note, I've gotta say I do love Hulo's interesting thread, so much awesome stuff in there.
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Hulohot
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- Location: Hampshire
- Contact:
PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by Hulohot » Wed Oct 31, 2012 5:36 pm
Nice work, plenty of scares for those of us doing nothing tonight (I'm seeing Silent Hill Revelation )
“The Strange Case of Jeremy Bentham: At his request, he was taxidermied after his death. Supposedly, the process to preserve the head went terribly wrong and left his face showing lack of expression therefore, unattractive. So, his head was replaced with the wax substitute and for a time was placed on the floor between his legs. It now sits in storage, safe and sound.”
Creepy comic: Use the scroll wheel.
http://comic.naver.com/webtoon/detail.n ... eekday=tue
)“The Strange Case of Jeremy Bentham: At his request, he was taxidermied after his death. Supposedly, the process to preserve the head went terribly wrong and left his face showing lack of expression therefore, unattractive. So, his head was replaced with the wax substitute and for a time was placed on the floor between his legs. It now sits in storage, safe and sound.”
Creepy comic: Use the scroll wheel.
http://comic.naver.com/webtoon/detail.n ... eekday=tue
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TheTurnipKing
- Member
- Joined in 2008
PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by TheTurnipKing » Wed Oct 31, 2012 6:36 pm
abcd wrote:Mockmaster wrote:Do you mean Slenderman?
no that's not it.
A lot of it was an e-mail conversation between two friends that hadn't seen each other for a while.
Dionea house or something?
http://www.dionaea-house.com/
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Archaeon
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PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by Archaeon » Wed Oct 31, 2012 6:43 pm
i heard the voice of god in my head so i grabbed a rock in a fashionista way
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abcd
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PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by abcd » Wed Oct 31, 2012 6:49 pm
TheTurnipKing wrote:abcd wrote:Mockmaster wrote:Do you mean Slenderman?
no that's not it.
A lot of it was an e-mail conversation between two friends that hadn't seen each other for a while.
Dionea house or something?
http://www.dionaea-house.com/
That's the one
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Barley
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PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by Barley » Wed Oct 31, 2012 6:50 pm
The Rake
During the summer of 2003, events in the northeastern United States involving a strange, humanlike creature sparked brief local media interest before an apparent blackout was enacted. Little or no information was left intact, as most online and written accounts of the creature were mysteriously destroyed.
Primarily focused in rural New York state, self proclaimed witnesses told stories of thier enounters with a creature of unkown origin. Emotions ranged from extremely traumatic levels of fright and discomfort, to an almost childlike sense of playfulness and curiosity. While their published versions are no longer on record, the memories remained powerful. Several of the involved parties began looking for answers that year.
In early 2006, the collaboration had accumulated nearly two dozen documents dating between the 12th century and present day, spanning 4 continents. In almost all cases, the stories were identical. I've been in contact with a member of this group and was able to get some exceprts from their upcoming book.
The Rake
A Suicide Note: 1964
As I prepare to take my life, I feel it necessary to assuage any guilt or pain I have introduced through this act. It is not the fault of anyone other than him. For once I awoke and felt his presence. And once I awoke and saw his form. Once again I awoke and heard his voice, and looked into his eyes. I cannot sleep without fear of what I might next awake to experience. I cannot ever wake. Goodbye.
Found in the same wooden box were two empty envelopes addressed to William and Rose, and one loose personal letter with no envelope.
Dearest Linnie,
I have prayed for you. He spoke your name.
A Journal Entry (translated from Spanish): 1880
I have experience the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I see his eyes when I close mine. They are hollow. Black. They saw me and pierced me. His wet hand. I will not sleep. His voice (unintelligible text).
A Mariner's Log: 1691
He came to me in my sleep. From the foot of my bed I felt a sensation. He took everything. We must return to England. We shall not return here again at the request of the Rake.
From a Witness: 2006
Three years ago, I had just returned from a trip from Niagara Falls with my family for the 4th of July. We were all very exhausted after a long day of driving, so my husband and I put the kids right to bed and called it a night.
At about 4am, I woke up thinking my husband had gotten up to use the restroom. I used the moment to steal back the sheets, only to wake him in the process. I appologized and told him I though he got out of bed. When he turned to face me, he gasped and pulled his feet up from the end of the bed so quickly his knee almost knocked me out of the bed. He then grabbed me and said nothing.
After adjusting to the dark for a half second, I was able to see what caused the strange reaction. At the foot of the bed, sitting and facing away from us, there was what appeared to be a naked man, or a large hairless dog of some sort. It's body position was disturbing and unnatural, as if it had been hit by a car or something. For some reason, I was not instantly frightened by it, but more concerned as to its condition. At this point I was somewhat under the assumption that we were supposed to help him.
My husband was peering over his arm and knee, tucked into the fetal position, occasionally glancing at me before returning to the creature.
In a flurry of motion, the creature scrambled around the side of the bed, and then crawled quickly in a flailing sort of motion right along the bed until it was less than a foot from my husband's face. The creature was completely silent for about 30 seconds (or probably closer to 5, it just seemed like a while) just looking at my husband. The creature then placed its hand on his knee and ran into the hallway, leading to the kids' rooms.
I screamed and ran for the lightswitch, planning to stop him before he hurt my children. When I got to the hallway, the light from the bedroom was enough to see it crouching and hunched over about 20 feet away. He turned around and looked directly at me, covered in blood. I flipped the switch on the wall and saw my daughter Clara.
The creature ran down the stairs while my husband and I rushed to help our daughter. She was very badly injured and spoke only once more in her short life. She said "he is the Rake".
My husband drove his car into a lake that night, while rushing our daughter to the hospital. He did not survive.
Being a small town, news got around pretty quickly. The police were helpful at first, and the local newspaper took a lot of interest as well. However, the story was never published and the local television news never followed up either.
For several months, my son Justin and I stayed in a hotel near my parent's house. After we decided to return home, I began looking for answers myself. I eventually located a man in the next town over who had a similar story. We got in contact and began talking about our experiences. He knew of two other people in New York who had seen the creature we now referred to as the Rake.
It took the four of us about two solid years of hunting on the internet and writing letters to come up with a small collection of what we believe to be accounts of the Rake. None of them gave any details, history or follow up. One journal had an entry involving the creature in its first 3 pages, and never mentioned it again. A ship's log explained nothing of the encounter, saying only that they were told to leave by the Rake. That was the last entry in the log.
There were, however, many instances where the creature's visit was one of a series of visits with the same person. Multiple people also mentioned being spoken to, my daughter included. This led us to wonder if the Rake had visited any of us before our last encounter.
I set up a digital recorder near my bed and left it running all night, every night, for two weeks. I would tediously scan through the sounds of me rolling around in my bed each day when I woke up. By the end of the second week, I was quite used to the occasional sound of sleep while blurring through the recording at 8 times the normal speed. (This still took almost an hour every day)
On the first day of the third week, I thought I heard something different. What I found was a shrill voice. It was the Rake. I can't listen to it long enough to even begin to transcribe it. I haven't let anyone listen to it yet. All I know is that I've heard it before, and I now believe that it spoke when it was sitting in front of my husband. I don't remember hearing anything at the time, but for some reason, the voice on the recorder immediately brings me back to that moment.
The thoughts that must have gone through my daughter's head make me very upset.
I have not seen the Rake since he ruined my life, but I know that he has been in my room while I slept. I know and fear that one night I'll wake up to see him staring at me.
Primarily focused in rural New York state, self proclaimed witnesses told stories of thier enounters with a creature of unkown origin. Emotions ranged from extremely traumatic levels of fright and discomfort, to an almost childlike sense of playfulness and curiosity. While their published versions are no longer on record, the memories remained powerful. Several of the involved parties began looking for answers that year.
In early 2006, the collaboration had accumulated nearly two dozen documents dating between the 12th century and present day, spanning 4 continents. In almost all cases, the stories were identical. I've been in contact with a member of this group and was able to get some exceprts from their upcoming book.
The Rake
A Suicide Note: 1964
As I prepare to take my life, I feel it necessary to assuage any guilt or pain I have introduced through this act. It is not the fault of anyone other than him. For once I awoke and felt his presence. And once I awoke and saw his form. Once again I awoke and heard his voice, and looked into his eyes. I cannot sleep without fear of what I might next awake to experience. I cannot ever wake. Goodbye.
Found in the same wooden box were two empty envelopes addressed to William and Rose, and one loose personal letter with no envelope.
Dearest Linnie,
I have prayed for you. He spoke your name.
A Journal Entry (translated from Spanish): 1880
I have experience the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I see his eyes when I close mine. They are hollow. Black. They saw me and pierced me. His wet hand. I will not sleep. His voice (unintelligible text).
A Mariner's Log: 1691
He came to me in my sleep. From the foot of my bed I felt a sensation. He took everything. We must return to England. We shall not return here again at the request of the Rake.
From a Witness: 2006
Three years ago, I had just returned from a trip from Niagara Falls with my family for the 4th of July. We were all very exhausted after a long day of driving, so my husband and I put the kids right to bed and called it a night.
At about 4am, I woke up thinking my husband had gotten up to use the restroom. I used the moment to steal back the sheets, only to wake him in the process. I appologized and told him I though he got out of bed. When he turned to face me, he gasped and pulled his feet up from the end of the bed so quickly his knee almost knocked me out of the bed. He then grabbed me and said nothing.
After adjusting to the dark for a half second, I was able to see what caused the strange reaction. At the foot of the bed, sitting and facing away from us, there was what appeared to be a naked man, or a large hairless dog of some sort. It's body position was disturbing and unnatural, as if it had been hit by a car or something. For some reason, I was not instantly frightened by it, but more concerned as to its condition. At this point I was somewhat under the assumption that we were supposed to help him.
My husband was peering over his arm and knee, tucked into the fetal position, occasionally glancing at me before returning to the creature.
In a flurry of motion, the creature scrambled around the side of the bed, and then crawled quickly in a flailing sort of motion right along the bed until it was less than a foot from my husband's face. The creature was completely silent for about 30 seconds (or probably closer to 5, it just seemed like a while) just looking at my husband. The creature then placed its hand on his knee and ran into the hallway, leading to the kids' rooms.
I screamed and ran for the lightswitch, planning to stop him before he hurt my children. When I got to the hallway, the light from the bedroom was enough to see it crouching and hunched over about 20 feet away. He turned around and looked directly at me, covered in blood. I flipped the switch on the wall and saw my daughter Clara.
The creature ran down the stairs while my husband and I rushed to help our daughter. She was very badly injured and spoke only once more in her short life. She said "he is the Rake".
My husband drove his car into a lake that night, while rushing our daughter to the hospital. He did not survive.
Being a small town, news got around pretty quickly. The police were helpful at first, and the local newspaper took a lot of interest as well. However, the story was never published and the local television news never followed up either.
For several months, my son Justin and I stayed in a hotel near my parent's house. After we decided to return home, I began looking for answers myself. I eventually located a man in the next town over who had a similar story. We got in contact and began talking about our experiences. He knew of two other people in New York who had seen the creature we now referred to as the Rake.
It took the four of us about two solid years of hunting on the internet and writing letters to come up with a small collection of what we believe to be accounts of the Rake. None of them gave any details, history or follow up. One journal had an entry involving the creature in its first 3 pages, and never mentioned it again. A ship's log explained nothing of the encounter, saying only that they were told to leave by the Rake. That was the last entry in the log.
There were, however, many instances where the creature's visit was one of a series of visits with the same person. Multiple people also mentioned being spoken to, my daughter included. This led us to wonder if the Rake had visited any of us before our last encounter.
I set up a digital recorder near my bed and left it running all night, every night, for two weeks. I would tediously scan through the sounds of me rolling around in my bed each day when I woke up. By the end of the second week, I was quite used to the occasional sound of sleep while blurring through the recording at 8 times the normal speed. (This still took almost an hour every day)
On the first day of the third week, I thought I heard something different. What I found was a shrill voice. It was the Rake. I can't listen to it long enough to even begin to transcribe it. I haven't let anyone listen to it yet. All I know is that I've heard it before, and I now believe that it spoke when it was sitting in front of my husband. I don't remember hearing anything at the time, but for some reason, the voice on the recorder immediately brings me back to that moment.
The thoughts that must have gone through my daughter's head make me very upset.
I have not seen the Rake since he ruined my life, but I know that he has been in my room while I slept. I know and fear that one night I'll wake up to see him staring at me.
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Skarjo
- Emeritus
- Joined in 2008
PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by Skarjo » Wed Oct 31, 2012 7:20 pm
Archaeon wrote:
...
You're a dick.
Karl wrote:Can't believe I got baited into expressing a political stance on hentai
Skarjo's Scary Stories...
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Squinty
- Member
- Joined in 2009
- Location: Norn Oirland
PostRe: The Interesting Thread; Bonus Halloween Edition!
by Squinty » Wed Oct 31, 2012 7:44 pm
Barley wrote:The RakeDuring the summer of 2003, events in the northeastern United States involving a strange, humanlike creature sparked brief local media interest before an apparent blackout was enacted. Little or no information was left intact, as most online and written accounts of the creature were mysteriously destroyed.
Primarily focused in rural New York state, self proclaimed witnesses told stories of thier enounters with a creature of unkown origin. Emotions ranged from extremely traumatic levels of fright and discomfort, to an almost childlike sense of playfulness and curiosity. While their published versions are no longer on record, the memories remained powerful. Several of the involved parties began looking for answers that year.
In early 2006, the collaboration had accumulated nearly two dozen documents dating between the 12th century and present day, spanning 4 continents. In almost all cases, the stories were identical. I've been in contact with a member of this group and was able to get some exceprts from their upcoming book.
The Rake
A Suicide Note: 1964
As I prepare to take my life, I feel it necessary to assuage any guilt or pain I have introduced through this act. It is not the fault of anyone other than him. For once I awoke and felt his presence. And once I awoke and saw his form. Once again I awoke and heard his voice, and looked into his eyes. I cannot sleep without fear of what I might next awake to experience. I cannot ever wake. Goodbye.
Found in the same wooden box were two empty envelopes addressed to William and Rose, and one loose personal letter with no envelope.
Dearest Linnie,
I have prayed for you. He spoke your name.
A Journal Entry (translated from Spanish): 1880
I have experience the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I have experienced the greatest terror. I see his eyes when I close mine. They are hollow. Black. They saw me and pierced me. His wet hand. I will not sleep. His voice (unintelligible text).
A Mariner's Log: 1691
He came to me in my sleep. From the foot of my bed I felt a sensation. He took everything. We must return to England. We shall not return here again at the request of the Rake.
From a Witness: 2006
Three years ago, I had just returned from a trip from Niagara Falls with my family for the 4th of July. We were all very exhausted after a long day of driving, so my husband and I put the kids right to bed and called it a night.
At about 4am, I woke up thinking my husband had gotten up to use the restroom. I used the moment to steal back the sheets, only to wake him in the process. I appologized and told him I though he got out of bed. When he turned to face me, he gasped and pulled his feet up from the end of the bed so quickly his knee almost knocked me out of the bed. He then grabbed me and said nothing.
After adjusting to the dark for a half second, I was able to see what caused the strange reaction. At the foot of the bed, sitting and facing away from us, there was what appeared to be a naked man, or a large hairless dog of some sort. It's body position was disturbing and unnatural, as if it had been hit by a car or something. For some reason, I was not instantly frightened by it, but more concerned as to its condition. At this point I was somewhat under the assumption that we were supposed to help him.
My husband was peering over his arm and knee, tucked into the fetal position, occasionally glancing at me before returning to the creature.
In a flurry of motion, the creature scrambled around the side of the bed, and then crawled quickly in a flailing sort of motion right along the bed until it was less than a foot from my husband's face. The creature was completely silent for about 30 seconds (or probably closer to 5, it just seemed like a while) just looking at my husband. The creature then placed its hand on his knee and ran into the hallway, leading to the kids' rooms.
I screamed and ran for the lightswitch, planning to stop him before he hurt my children. When I got to the hallway, the light from the bedroom was enough to see it crouching and hunched over about 20 feet away. He turned around and looked directly at me, covered in blood. I flipped the switch on the wall and saw my daughter Clara.
The creature ran down the stairs while my husband and I rushed to help our daughter. She was very badly injured and spoke only once more in her short life. She said "he is the Rake".
My husband drove his car into a lake that night, while rushing our daughter to the hospital. He did not survive.
Being a small town, news got around pretty quickly. The police were helpful at first, and the local newspaper took a lot of interest as well. However, the story was never published and the local television news never followed up either.
For several months, my son Justin and I stayed in a hotel near my parent's house. After we decided to return home, I began looking for answers myself. I eventually located a man in the next town over who had a similar story. We got in contact and began talking about our experiences. He knew of two other people in New York who had seen the creature we now referred to as the Rake.
It took the four of us about two solid years of hunting on the internet and writing letters to come up with a small collection of what we believe to be accounts of the Rake. None of them gave any details, history or follow up. One journal had an entry involving the creature in its first 3 pages, and never mentioned it again. A ship's log explained nothing of the encounter, saying only that they were told to leave by the Rake. That was the last entry in the log.
There were, however, many instances where the creature's visit was one of a series of visits with the same person. Multiple people also mentioned being spoken to, my daughter included. This led us to wonder if the Rake had visited any of us before our last encounter.
I set up a digital recorder near my bed and left it running all night, every night, for two weeks. I would tediously scan through the sounds of me rolling around in my bed each day when I woke up. By the end of the second week, I was quite used to the occasional sound of sleep while blurring through the recording at 8 times the normal speed. (This still took almost an hour every day)
On the first day of the third week, I thought I heard something different. What I found was a shrill voice. It was the Rake. I can't listen to it long enough to even begin to transcribe it. I haven't let anyone listen to it yet. All I know is that I've heard it before, and I now believe that it spoke when it was sitting in front of my husband. I don't remember hearing anything at the time, but for some reason, the voice on the recorder immediately brings me back to that moment.
The thoughts that must have gone through my daughter's head make me very upset.
I have not seen the Rake since he ruined my life, but I know that he has been in my room while I slept. I know and fear that one night I'll wake up to see him staring at me.
Well, thanks a lot Barley
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1cmanny1
- Member ♥
- Joined in 2008
- Location: New Zealand
PostRe: The Interesting Thread - Roanoke, Easter Island & Alcala
by 1cmanny1 » Fri Dec 07, 2012 11:22 am
There are many things to consider in an apocalypse.
Do you think you'll be raptured? If so, where is the best place to wait? How long will the journey skyward be? Will you need to pack food? If you are more secular in your beliefs, then how do you think the end will come? Aliens?
More than 200 armageddons have been predicted since the beginning of recorded history. Not one has come true... Obviously.
The next one being hailed by conspiracy theorists the world over however, is easily the most widely disseminated in history.
Through online sites and social media, the "Mayan Prophecy", which people believe dictates the world will end on December 21, 2012, has gained unprecedented attention.
This theory has been debunked many times over, but whether you believe in them or not, they are interesting beasts - always captivating at the movies, even for the toughest cynics.
It's safe to say we all have certain fascination in these things. So here is our list of top 10 supposed apocalypses.
1. The Mayan Prophecy - 2012
So the theory goes the Mayan calendar just mysteriously stops on this date. It must mean the world does too, right? Wrong. It's actually a little more complicated than that, but it is thought the date indicates the end of a 5125-year-long cycle and consequently, the start of a new era. The theory originated with claims that Nibiru, a supposed planet discovered by the Sumerians, was heading towards Earth. This was initially predicted to happen in May 2003, but when nothing did happen it was moved to December 2012 and linked to the end of one of the cycles in the ancient Mayan calendar at the winter solstice.
2. Y2K - 2000
We braced ourselves. We stocked up on food and water to ready for a global computer meltdown. It never came. Although the difference between this apocalyptic theory and others is there was an element of science to it. Scientists genuinely did not know how the world's computers would react to a 00 date. Turns out, they took it all in their stride. Which possibly gives a whole new weight to user error.
3. Large Hadron Collider - 2011
It's the most expensive science project in history. The Large Hadron Collider, which resides underground spanning the border between Switzerland and France was essentially built to simulate the big bang. The experiment is ongoing but it is already highly likely the Higgs Boson has been discovered - a particle which gives all other particles mass.
What the ever-optimistic end-timers thought would happen however was the creation of a man-made black hole which would suck earth into the depths of nothingness. It didn't.
4. Halley's Comet - 1910
Comets have long been feared as harbingers of doom, hence Halley's is not the only comet to appear in this list. When Halley's comet reappeared in 1910 it was blamed for many natural disasters which took place that year - the flooding of the Seine being one. But mass hysteria was not incited until the Chicago Observatory claimed it had detected the poisonous gas cyanogen in the comet's tail. Reported in the New York Times in February 1910, the gas was believed to "impregnate the atmosphere" killing off all existence.
5. The Jupiter Effect - 1982
In 1974 John Gribbin and Stephen Plagemann wrote the best-selling book, The Jupiter Effect. Espousing that in March 1982 all the planets would align on the same side of the sun - the gravitational pull would trigger a series of cosmic catastrophic events. Both authors were Cambridge educated astrophysicists and Gribbin, at the time, was the editor of international science journal Nature. According to news reports from that time, people actually sold their houses and moved away from Los Angeles, where an earthquake along the San Andreas fault was predicted to wipe out the city.
It never happened. The year after, the two authors published The Jupiter Effect Reconsidered. It too was a best-seller.
6. Millerites - April 23, 1843
American farmer and preacher William Miller is one of the most famous doomsday predictors in modern history. He began to predict the second coming of Christ in the early 1940s. The world would become engulfed in flames sometime between March 21, 1843 and March 21, 1844.
He spread his prophecy through town meetings and using flyers, such was the technology at the time, but still managed to gain more than 100,000 followers - known as Millerites. With the window of apocalyptic doom being a whole year, the Millerites moved to the mountains just to be safe. When it emerged on March 22, 1844 that they were safe enough to begin with, they picked a new date. The world's end did not happen on October 22 either so a new date was picked. His followers eventually came up with an excuse for that failed prediction as well and formed a group we now refer to as the Seventh Day Adventist movement.
7. Mormon Armageddon (Mormogeddon?)
In that famous 1835 church meeting, the founder of the Latter Day Saints movement Joseph Smith declared he had been speaking with God "recently", and the second coming of Christ could happen sometime in the next 56 years. Way to put a number on it.
8. Hale-Bopp - 1997
With the discovery of Hale-Bopp comet in 1995, came, almost immediately, the predictions of doom. Tragically, at its last passing over Earth in 1997, 39 people committed suicide when Hale-Bopp reached its closest point. They were part of a religious group called Heaven's Gate, who believed a UFO riding the comet's wake would rescue them from Earth's inevitable destruction.
9. Waco - 1993
David Koresh lead an unsanctioned offshoot of the Latter Day Saints called the Branch Davidians. It has been widely reported Koresh was responsible for many cases of abuse against children and women. In a February 1993 raid, the FBI stormed the group's compound in Waco, Texas, initiating a 51-day standoff which resulted in the deaths of dozens of Davidians, including Koresh and four FBI agents. The Davidian fought back because they had been convinced by Koresh that he was Jesus, and the siege was the beginning of the end of the world.
10. Harold Camping - 1994
The modern-day Nostradamus he is not. Harold Camping has made no less than three highly-publicised world-end predictions, none of which have come true. The Christian radio evangelist published a book in 1992, called 1994? In it, he claimed figures taken from the bible indicated the world would end in September 1994. When it didn't, he revised the date to March 30, 1995. His most recent predictions came last year when he predicted the rapture to occur on May 21 and the world to end on October 21, 2011.
http://www.stuff.co.nz/oddstuff/8050931/The-top-10-armageddon-predictions
How could some people believe this rubbish?
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Victor Mildew
- Member
- Joined in 2009
PostRe: The Interesting Thread - Roanoke, Easter Island & Alcala
by Victor Mildew » Fri Dec 07, 2012 11:28 am
People who believe in the end of the world
I love it when they say things like, "ZOMFG TEH WORLD WILL END ON THIS EXACT DATE, IT SAYS SO IN THIS BOOK IVE BEEN RESEARCHING FOR 40 YEARS!"
The when, of course nothing happens you get ," OH IT'll BE NEXT YEAR, I DIDNT CARRY THE 1"
So you've been researching for most of your life, but suddenly have decided there is a flaw in your calculations which conveniently keeps the gooseberry fool going?
I love it when they say things like, "ZOMFG TEH WORLD WILL END ON THIS EXACT DATE, IT SAYS SO IN THIS BOOK IVE BEEN RESEARCHING FOR 40 YEARS!"
The when, of course nothing happens you get ," OH IT'll BE NEXT YEAR, I DIDNT CARRY THE 1"
So you've been researching for most of your life, but suddenly have decided there is a flaw in your calculations which conveniently keeps the gooseberry fool going?
Hexx wrote:Ad7 is older and balder than I thought.
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Turboman
- Member
- Joined in 2011
PostRe: The Interesting Thread - Roanoke, Easter Island & Alcala
by Turboman » Fri Dec 07, 2012 11:30 am
Advent7 wrote:People who believe in the end of the world
It will happen one day
Errkal wrote:It is amasing how people dont seem to be abel to do that.
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Victor Mildew
- Member
- Joined in 2009
PostRe: The Interesting Thread - Roanoke, Easter Island & Alcala
by Victor Mildew » Fri Dec 07, 2012 11:32 am
Shhhhhh.
I mean in tin foil hat ways.
I mean in tin foil hat ways.
Hexx wrote:Ad7 is older and balder than I thought.
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mas22
- Member
- Joined in 2008
PostRe: The Interesting Thread - Roanoke, Easter Island & Alcala
by mas22 » Sun Feb 03, 2013 1:08 pm
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