It officially began on December 15, 2003, in a community far from the world, in Wisconsin, Doveland. At least, that's what I can remember. I visited the small town when I was just 6 years old. A quiet place, where the mountains completely surrounded a plain where the homes of at least 200 people were settled, among them, my grandparents and part of my paternal family, who, thanks to the luck of fate, ended up welcoming me in their compound when an accident left me practically orphaned.
It was difficult to go from city life in a well-to-do socioeconomic sector, leaving behind all acquired friendships and memories of my previous life, to a simple but relaxing experience in the most inaccessible rural areas of the country. The internet was practically non-existent, the postal courier service was the most frequented and only a few places had telephone coverage.
In a new place where you are completely unfamiliar with your environment and the people around you, you are grateful for any hint of human kindness. So it was a great relief to experience a bit of, what I call, "small-town fraternity". People, regardless of whether they knew me or not, used to greet me, talk to me, and if anything, give me a gift for just breathing next to them or passing by their property.
Staying there, life got better and better. I came and went bringing materials that we produced in our home; textile materials, leather covers, among others. We served our neighbors and got paid for it. We would return home to have dinner together with the 15 souls who were staying in the house, sleep and wake up again at 6 a.m. every day.
I lasted like that for at least a year, finally adjusting to rural life. Until that December 15, when everything changed. I wasn't aware of when it happened, but the day began with some curious onlookers in the center of town watching as a company arrived at the local government building, bringing down technological equipment that I could identify instantly. It was modern, not the kind of experimental technology that was completely out of this world, but it was interesting to see in a place where you could barely get a call out of state. The mayor promptly rushed over to greet them and talk to them, while other people were busy perusing the place. It was not uncommon to see businessmen buying products from the market; leather skins, fruits, vegetables, and arriving promptly to the town. The placement of the new electrical systems and antennas in the surrounding area kept everyone's attention for at least a few weeks, until they were finally able to install the new equipment.
A meeting between the mayor and the townspeople put an end to all the mystery: it was a modernization of our communication systems. Doveland, he exclaimed, could be a great nexus for our state's communication, and when he briefly explained the benefits to the townspeople, more than one failed to understand what a breakthrough this would bring. Part of me was impressed, but another part of me began to feel intrigued. The technological equipment would open doors to the world, but it was too good to be true. Federal support? The simple words of the benefactor's origin made sense, at least at the time.
As usual, the main means of entertainment was the radio, and the radio itself did not fail to explain the benefits that all this would bring, and it was the main medium where we would end up seeing this advancement. Radio stations began to be more diverse, and it was possible to find communications from the other side of the country. Eventually, a small technology company began to bring in equipment that previously could not work without the new receiving antennas, televisions, cell phones, and yes, I finally got a small desktop laptop where I could regain what little contact with the past I had left. It was for this reason that, in part, I also returned to distance myself a little from my relatives, who watched television every day.
The internet allowed me to catch up with some things. But it was also an interesting tool. Thanks to the logos on the trucks I was able to find the name of the supplier company, so I started looking for information about it out of curiosity.
The search was blocked.
That was the first thing the browser returned. The browser ended up freezing and forcing me to restart the machine. I tried again, and the same thing happened.
I ended up leaving the search for the day, going to dinner and having a poor time with my relatives. They kept watching TV, amused by a comedy show that I could not identify at first glance.
The next day, November 15, 2005, while running our daily errands, we had to resort to an alternate route due to a small protest at the palace, as the mayor tried to calm the waters. The radio station was playing a catchy song with ridiculous lyrics, which seemed to be a hit at least with the users who listened to this medium, as it was common to hear it and request it towards the radio announcers in our region. We were able to approach once we finished our duties, hearing that a crowd was refusing to reopen the mines near our town, which had been closed for a decade. The proposal was promptly rejected upon learning of it, at least at the time.
Whenever we returned from our labors I would head for my computer, it was difficult to live with the others mesmerized by the television and its attractive programs available. Among the hundreds of chat rooms available, I began to dig into the posts originating from the local section of my state. Simple junk, people wanting to meet others, mostly desperate people messaging newcomers under the caption, "Are you a girl?" when clearly your name was manly. It was then that I had my first virtual contact with someone from my small town, who did not hide his roots under the nickname "DoveLainB94".
We started talking in a private chat room, chatting about us, our tastes, and also some criticisms we could make about the town where we lived.
DoveLainB94: I'm sick of listening to that damn country song every day. My sister won't stop playing it loud.
RedSable: Yeah, I've seen it in high demand on the local radio station.
DoveLainB94: My sister usually dials in when she doesn't listen to that song and she's got me fed up!!!! Lucky I wear headphones :) But the people at that station don't even seem bothered by getting that request so many times. It's like they get paid to play it, hahaha.
RedSable: Yeah man, I gotta go. I'll log on tomorrow at 6, see you.
The next day went by without a hitch, hearing that dreadful song again, at least three times over the course of the day. Then it stopped, it was great not to hear it for the course of at least six hours, although some did not seem at all happy about this. While there were no phone calls (nor did they receive for the day) by mid-afternoon, as we were returning, the announcer communicated the following.
"Hey people, we have received countless calls asking for that song so special to us. We can't live without it, haha, but for this day, we want to invite you to watch the next chapter of Malcom In the Middle. You won't regret it. You know, on your local TV channel, at seven o'clock tonight."
We got home, and although I tried to go upstairs to my hiding place, I was almost forced to spend family time, prevented from bringing up my dinner and remained on the second floor, eating at the table in front of the huge occupancy near the TV. They were watching that series promoted by the radio. It was the second episode of the third season. I remembered it well, having an iconic scene where the family comically fought a bunch of clowns to get Lois back. I stuck around long enough to enjoy this, but... There was something different. Instead of Arctic Monkeys' acclaimed Fluorescent Adolescent, the scene now featured that strange song from the radio. Their involvement in the series was already getting to the point of grossing me out, mostly because our TV suffered from a glitch that reduced or increased sharpness and contrast at times. The change was too anticlimactic, perhaps it was just enough to leave my relatives in a perpetual smile, but not bring them to the point of laughter. Once it was over, everything went back to normal and everyone went their separate ways as they got their daily dose of bad music. I was finally able to go up to my room and connect to the internet, talking to my recent friend.
RedSable: Hey buddy, are you there?
DoveLainB94: Yeah, sorry, I couldn't get online earlier. My stupid sister forced me to watch that weird series on TV. And you know what, THAT song, ughhhh!
RedSable: I hear you, the same thing happened to me. But I remember that scene differently.
DoveLainB94: Ohhhh, that reminds me, I've seen different things too when I watch a series on the local channel. It must be because of censorship or something, you know, like those Chinese cartoons that change things.
RedSable: Have there been more different things?
DoveLainB94: I remember in that series called Kenan and Kel they used to change the few songs that were on, although they suffer from this town syndrome because I tend to watch the same episodes every so often. It's like they only have enough to get a few and they repeat them XD
RedSable: Yes, I remember that series. Thanks, now I have something better to do these days.
DoveLainB94: Good luck old man....
The next morning, on my day off, I took the opportunity to watch some TV as a family, along with some series of a youthful nature suitable for youngsters. I started watching a few, noticing a peculiarity; the vast majority of these included at least one musical number in their episodes, and after a bit of searching, I was able to find out that they were the only episodes within their possible seasons where there was one. And of course, the songs were not in place, but had been changed to those that could be enjoyed daily on the local station.
On the internet, moreover, I found that this was mainly due to copyright issues. But... if the series has the rights, then so do the broadcasting rights, right?
Anyway, I ended up with a headache for the day, needing some fresh air. I took some of the money I had next to my headphones, and went to buy something to eat. Heading on foot towards the central square, where normally there were street vendors and people passing by and having fun, I saw that it was now deserted. While the villagers kept coming and going through the streets, they were completely focused on their routine chores; the previous natural friendliness fell into little empathy, not even turning around when greeted. I stopped thinking much about this, thinking that perhaps they were having a bad day, but no matter how hard I tried to get their attention, absolutely no one responded back, except to offer me some service.
Little by little, this was turning into a city, it seemed. And those disgusting repetitive songs adorned a not very encouraging place, in which, fortunately, my headphones protected me.
I continued on my way home without much delay, bringing with me what I needed for a night of relaxation. Punctually, I opened the private chat with my friend, chatting with him.
RedSable: Hey man, are you there?
DoveLainB94: I was watching TV with my sister, what's up?
RedSable: Haven't you noticed something weird in the atmosphere?
DoveLainB94: Yeah, it smells musty and my knee hurts.
RedSable: I'm talking about the people, they seem more robotic. Like they don't care about anything.
DoveLainB94: It must be the crops. I hear they are not doing well at all. My dad has been having trouble with the tomatoes lately.
RedSable: I hadn't thought about that.
DoveLainB94: It must not be important anyway. Hey, I found a new game called Counter Strike, and I was able to play it with hardly any lag, shall we try it?
RedSable: Okay, here we go.
We spent the rest of the night playing Counter, at least until Dove finally decided to go to sleep. I yawned, realizing how late it was, and like a good teenager, after a long game, I decided to go down to the second floor for some food before surrendering to Morpheus. I went downstairs, and... the TV was on static. Maybe they had forgotten to turn it off, I thought. I went to the remote control and decided to do it myself. Once done, I went back to the kitchen to make myself a late night snack. Before I returned to my cave, the TV came on again, and now the remote rested in my aunt's hand, showing no signs of being conscious. Sighing, I turned it off again before the static broke my ears.
The next morning, I awoke late. I found myself feeling strange, as the night before I had resigned myself to getting little sleep and being woken up to go to work. When I came downstairs, everything was in its place, except for a blonde-haired lady who was talking to my grandmother while drinking coffee.
- Oh, look who's awake - said my relative at the table -. Come son, we were just answering our guest's questions.
- Questions?
- I introduce myself: I'm Tanya, I represent the mayor's office - she greeted formally -. We are conducting a survey to see the level of satisfaction of our inhabitants in terms of our technological innovation around town.
- Oh, interview my grandson first, breakfast is almost ready - my grandmother asked.
- Okay, sit down - I obeyed her request, standing in front of her -. There will be only four questions. They are multiple choice. Are you ready?
- Yes, you may begin.
She cleared her throat, looking at the four cards she had previously carried in her pocket.
- How do you rate the quality of service provided by the technology?
A) The magic candy.
B) Doveland is in the northern United States.
C) Great.
D) The signal gives me what I need, and more.
Faced with the choices, I was slightly confused, but still, I answered the third option, as it was the only one related to the topic. The blonde stared at me for a moment, and simply nodded, returning with her usual smile.
- Very well, let's move on to the next one. Are you in favor of reopening the town's mine, even in the face of the possible problems it might bring?
A) Winter light.
B) The mayor is right.
C) Absolutely, yes.
D) I can't make up my mind.
Again, the question and answers made no sense in relation to the context. At my look of confusion, she began to... get nervous? It took a few moments of awkward silence to get the question off the table.
- Yes, of course, you are too young, I must have been confused about the survey," she giggled. Let's see... this... this is it, yes," she hesitated to continue, but did so anyway. Next question: is the signal correct? has there been any anomaly?
A) The signal has been continuous.
B) I stay in tune every day.
C) The radio is always on.
D) I wish I could hear more of the white signal.
- Are you sure these are the only answers? I can't make any sense, miss," I pleaded politely.
The woman looked with visible confusion, as if something was wrong. She was now nervous, no doubt, looking at her notes without knowing how to give an answer.
- Can I cheat and tell her she must answer the fourth? - my grandmother joked, still cooking, with a giggle.
- Uh... yes, yes, something... - she cleared her throat -. Something like that, I see you are in tune - she looked at him for a few seconds, not wanting to cross eye contact with me again -. Thank you for your hospitality. I have to go now.
- Are you leaving without breakfast?
- Oh, I'll have breakfast on the way. I have too many errands to run, too many people to interview and not enough time.
She packed up her things, taking the briefcase I hadn't seen her use at any time. My curiosity made me follow her to the door, which I opened, allowing her to go out and have a private conversation with her.
- Excuse me.
- What do you want? - She didn't turn around as she opened her car doors. Clumsily, she fumbled with the keys, trying to put it in the lock. I'm kind of busy, kid.
- May I ask what T.C.A. stands for?
She made the mistake of turning to look at me, something was definitely out of place. I wasn't prepared for the question.
- Where did you see that?
- Her uniform, on the shoulder pad part. I knew something about her from before, but I can't look up any information on the internet.
- Oh, that, heh. We're just cable distributors. No big deal.
When he was able to unlock the car, he got in without saying goodbye, starting it up. He did nothing but drive off. I watched the whole drive until he finally got lost in the weeds, unfortunately, he was still sleepy, so I went home without giving him much thought until breakfast.
I used the rest of the day to talk to Dove and play online. That weird worker moved my thoughts a bit, but not enough, at least not with a new addictive pastime going on. Dove ended the game suddenly, coming out and talking to me on the private chat we had.
DoveLainB94: Well, I have to go. I promised my sister to watch that series together. Oh, by the way, tomorrow do you want to go to the square for a while? I have some things to tell you in person.
RedSable: In person?
DoveLainB94: You know, people spy on us O.o
RedSable: What are you talking about?
DoveLainB94: Haha, I was just saying that because you're too paranoid about the TV signal. Anyway, tomorrow I'll be at the plaza for a while, around 5, if you want to come and meet us.
RedSable: I'll think about it. See ya.
I smiled a little at the joke, walking down to the second floor, watching my grandmother cook dinner. My eyes were hurting, so I didn't go over to pry at the TV. I headed toward the kitchen, sitting down to relax for a while.
I simply watched my grandmother chopping carrots, while humming. She was perfectly laying the cuts on a wooden board, continuing one after the other, preparing enough for a family broth. There were about 20 carrots pending. I sat next to her, watching her cut with great skill.
- Hey, Grandma," I called her attention, "what was life like before I came?
- It wasn't much different in the beginning. The family business has been going on since your great-great-grandfather settled in this town.
- Yes, I see the change came with that modernization," I said. It reminds me quite a bit of my former life, when... That happened.
- Your parents loved you very much. That's why they sent you to us.
Slowly, the carrots were running out, thanks to my grandmother's tremendous skill with the knife as she cut. I glanced back at the others, who were laughing as they watched their favorite show on the TV.
- I was really afraid to be alone. Even if it was a small thing, you guys knew me and agreed to host me. I really appreciate it. Even... if I'm distant, I love you.
- That's sweet, boy.
I gave a slight smile, sighing and looking up again.
- Thank you, Grandma. By the way, you know what...?
My attention immediately caught something very out of place. The carrots were finished, but my grandmother was still cutting. Cutting something similar to carrots, something that was in her hands. Her fingers, and she continued as she hummed that song, and not only that, she watched calmly as, little by little, the blade tore through skin and flesh, how the knife made her bones give way, leaving them cut to the same size as the vegetables next to them, stained by the blood that drained wildly from her wounds.
- ABUELA!
My shout echoed above the laughter of those present. When she stopped humming, she finally realized what had happened, immediately covering her wound with a clean cloth in shock. I started screaming from the shock of the moment, and when my screams rose above the level of the television, the others realized that something bad was happening, and immediately went to her aid.
We spent part of the night and the next day at the hospital. They did a little evaluation to see how badly I had been affected, along with my grandmother, who simply said she had been cutting carrots, and the next moment, her fingers. The doctors stayed a while examining her and asked for some studies to verify if it was an effect of Alzheimer's, news that made no one happy.
I decided to return home on my own. The agitation of my mind was beginning to be justified, the thousands of questions surrounding the event kept me on the edge of madness. My paranoia, finally, in the face of the strange happenings around town, began to bloom like a flower in spring.
During the night of that same day another trigger happened that fueled, if not confirmed in my eyes, that I had reason to be paranoid. I was hiding between the sheets, trying to quiet the dazed noise that was my thoughts, when I heard a "click", followed by the sound of the tune that had so entranced my family. My heart stopped in its tracks. I had returned home alone, and all night I had not heard my relatives return. That puzzled me to begin with, but now someone had come into the house, and had turned on the television.
I tried to press myself against the bed, to cover my ears, but all to no avail. The feeling of invasion, added to the music, made it impossible for me to sleep. I got up, albeit with fear, ready to find out what was going on downstairs. I went downstairs. The living room was illuminated only by the static emitted by the television, and among the white noise I could make out human murmurs. A woman was laughing heartily, while a man was seriously reporting some kind of unintelligible news.
I couldn't help but be drawn to the broadcast, but the attraction it exerted on me was not at all similar to what I saw in my relatives. They laughed with the woman, I did nothing but feel horror, but, above all, curiosity. Curiosity about the nature of the signals, of the music she played, of those actors who hardly seemed human reporting instead of robots trying to emulate humanity. How could I not be curious if I was the only one who saw them like that.
Suddenly the static stopped, the screen projected a new signal. It was what looked like a cooking show, but recorded in first person. A woman was humming the infamous song that everyone listened to all day long. The recording was normal, the woman was cutting carrots with parsimony and skill, until a sound, like an explosion, produced visual noise, changing the scene to the mutilated hand of the woman cutting the vegetables. The signal was interrupted, returning to static. A few minutes passed before the TV picked up a new signal, showing a man cutting down a tree, from the same first-person perspective. The man was returning to his hut, lighting his pipe, and the visual noise changed the picture. The man's hands were soaked in blood, as were his clothes. The static returned as the man put his hands to his face and began to scream.
Throughout the night, at irregular intervals, the lack of signal was interrupted by small fragments of everyday situations that ended in fateful or bizarre ways. In one of them, a child went from eating a cake to eating dirt by hand. I will not say that I was hypnotized, but morbidly interested in the experiences that these people had gone through. They were not simple footage generated to make an impression or terror. The first sign had revealed it to me. This was what had happened to my grandmother. For her the world was normal, nothing strange was happening, until she fell into reality, and realized what she had done. I couldn't be sure, but deep down I knew that the same day my grandmother had cut her fingers, all those other incidents had also happened somewhere in Doveland.
I stayed up all night, not missing a single detail of the events that transpired. I noted down to the smallest particularity. The shirt was green and blue plaid? The cut tree was seven trees away from the cabin? The footprints left on the beach were exactly how many? Twelve once they reached the water? The young brunette twitched her little finger or bit her index finger? The protagonist of this kind of footage had twitches in her eye? Everything could be intuited, and everything could be noted.
During the whole time the transmissions lasted, I did not see my relatives. At the exact moment when the static showed one of those series in its musical episode, they all came through the door. I asked where they had been all night, but they looked at me quizzically and replied that they had returned from the hospital with me, leaving my grandmother for the doctors to treat her injuries. I decided that asking for opinions or explanations from them would be useless.
The next night, the transmissions were repeated, showing new events in the daily lives of the citizens of Doveland. Many times the signal was not interrupted, and they simply continued to be immersed in their artificial reality. However, a few minutes before sunrise, the transmission was stuck on one frame. An ominous eye-like symbol was superimposed over a panoramic view of the town from a very high point. From the location, I assumed it was a view from one of the towers they had installed during the renovations. The image began to recede, as if rewinding, down the tower, into a dark warehouse on the outskirts of town.
I tried to convince Dove of what was happening at night, but whenever I tried to contact him at the times when the transmissions started, he either didn't respond, or there was no connection, and when I asked him if he had seen anything, he simply replied that he fell asleep at the drop of a hat.
I thought of a way to convince someone of what was going on in the village, and I realized that with everything I knew that had happened thanks to the transmissions, I could test my theories. I just had to visit the places where the transmissions had occurred, visit those who fell into trances and woke up. In the middle of the afternoon, I went up to my room and started a chat with Dove.
RedSable: Are you?
DoveLainB94: I'm always there.
RedSable: Did you watch TV last night?
DoveLainB94: Nein. I fell asleep too hard and woke up in the yard twelve hours later :/. Are you still harping on that?
RedSable: I think I know how to talk you out of this shit, can we meet today?
DoveLainB94: Oops, do you have proof, do you have evidence of this conspiracy, collusion, of this insidious scheming, do you have arguments to argue that a COMPADRAJE is going on? I'm saying words I like xd
RedSable: Something like that, but if you don't see it for yourself it's not going to convince you. when can we meet?
DoveLainB94: In half an hour I can be at the square, ok?
RedSable: Perfect. I'll see you.
I took a couple of items in a backpack that I thought we would need for the place I wanted to explore. It was risky, but the transmissions, especially the last one, made me think that there must be something important in that warehouse.
Once we were in the square, I superficially explained my plan to Dove. There weren't many warehouses or large enough abandoned buildings near any of the towers, so identifying it didn't take me too long, even though I had only seen the location for a few seconds. That said, I was wrong in identifying the tower itself, so by the time we got to the right building the sun was already setting, as it was almost on the outskirts of town.
The red brick building looked ramshackle and old, I was ignorant of what it had been used for in the past and what it was being used for in the present. The windows were boarded up with timbers and the door was blocked by debris. With Dove's help, we pulled out a couple of boards so we could enter the rickety warehouse.
The little light from the sunset was filtering through the cracked wood blocking the windows, luckily I had come prepared with two flashlights. I gave one to Dove and lit my own. The building was full of graffiti, most of it was rapper-like signatures or announcements that certain teenagers, or adults, had fucked on the premises. It wasn't strange at first, just a little unsettling because of the atmosphere, but something was definitely not normal. If the place had been a warehouse, perhaps for lumber from the sawmill or something, the number of rooms it housed didn't make sense. The walls stretched across the building in an almost labyrinthine fashion, leading to small rooms where there was nothing but cockroaches and a deep musty smell. Fungal abscesses grew from cracks in the floor, giving off a sulfur-like stench that intoxicated the senses. Dove insisted that we leave, after all, there was nothing of interest there. I was beginning to think the place was truly abandoned and nothing more, until I heard a rhythmic sound. A thump. Something was hitting a wall.
We followed the sound to one of the many small cubicles that housed the building. With his back to us, a man in a plaid shirt was banging on the wall with his forehead. Dove told me not to approach, but the guy was unaware of our presence. As I approached cautiously, the man kept banging his forehead on the wall. On the cracked gray wall there was a nail from which blood was dripping. The man kept insisting on hammering the nail with his head. His face suffered a deathly pallor, placated only by traces of dried blood falling from a hole between eyebrow and eyebrow, which was no longer bleeding.
As I thought about walking away, Dove suddenly began to turn his flashlight on and off, awakening the man from his hypnotic state. His pupils dilated and he fell to the floor with a sudden scream, which was followed by a string of sickening screams coming from the rest of the rooms. I turned around, Dove was laughing as she turned the flashlight on and off. She ran out before I could yell back, "Dove, what the fuck are you doing."
The echoing screams caused the lights in the building to come on. I didn't even know there was electricity there, but neon lights started flashing above my head. The electrical system must have been a pittance, as in most of the town, because the lights flickered constantly, leaving me several seconds in darkness only to come back on for a short period, and then darkness again.
I tried to chase after Dove, but got lost among the building's chambers. In the moments of darkness, I could see the flashes of his flashlight, and that was what I was trying to follow. When my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, the neon light would return, and when I adjusted to the extreme luminescence, the darkness would return and I would see nothing. Throughout the various cubicles I encountered individuals of all kinds. A woman was trying in horror to rip out her collarbones with her bare hands, a child kept screaming in despair as she scratched at the walls, tearing out her nails from the force exerted and making her fingertips bleed.
Dozens of heavy footsteps echoed through the corridors of the warehouse. It sounded like a militia was approaching. Without warning, elongated, bony hands grabbed me from behind. An old man with a sallow pallor gripped me with all his strength, putting his index finger between my lips to signal me to be quiet. He dragged me to a corner of his cubicle between nervous spasms. I could barely catch a glimpse of the heavy boots moving down the aisles under the flickering lights, accompanied by several people dressed in medical garb. The old man mumbled incoherent words, which I could barely understand: "Strength", "Will", "Close", "Judgment", "I didn't kill them".
I spent several minutes trapped between the old man's worn and bony arms. People came by again, dragging someone. "This one got out of control, we'll bring him back tomorrow," I heard the woman who seemed to be leading that group say. The person they were dragging was Dove.
The lights went out again, but this time they didn't come back on. The old man's grip gave way, and I was slowly able to break free. I didn't hesitate for a moment to break one of the windows and run out. By the time I got home, my lungs were burning and my throat was dry. It didn't even cross my mind to listen to my family, I ran to my room and threw myself on the bed, looking for safety. Nightmarish visions tormented me all night, and only the voice of one of my relatives woke me up.
"Tomorrow we are going to see your grandmother, are you coming with us?". I answered yes vaguely. It was already morning. When I turned on my computer, I had a message from Dove, sent an hour ago.
DoveLainB94: Do they make you some counter games or do you shit yourself?
RedSable: What the fuck happened last night, are you ok?
DoveLainB94: What are you talking about? Xd
RedSable: Don't act stupid now.
DoveLainB94: Oh yeah, it must be one of your paranoias. Maybe (((they))) erased my... memory o___O
I closed the chat. I dropped on the floor, and in the fetal position, I tried to cry, but nothing came out. Now I was alone. No one could help me. Nor could anyone believe me. Except...the one person I had trusted so much.
Late in the afternoon, shortly after my family returned from the hospital, I headed to the hospital. Once there, I made my way to the room where my grandmother was still receiving treatment, entering without much hassle. Her gaze quickly turned to me, even though she couldn't move at all. She was bedridden, immobile on her own, or so I thought.
- Hello little one," she greeted, somewhat weakly.
- Grandma, are you all right?
- A little tired. Recovering from my injury is taking longer than the doctors expected.
- Grandma, I feel... - I didn't have the courage to do it yet, but I didn't have much of a choice - I feel that something strange is happening in this place. In the village.
- Something strange?
- It's the radio and television signals. I've been investigating it for almost a week and I've noticed abnormal things in the transmissions; they are repetitive, they show subliminal messages, noises in the broadcasts, the lyrics are hypnotizing. All that. And strange things have happened; accidents, oversights, and no one seems to care.
She seemed to pay due attention to my information, although she didn't give it credibility either, like that child who tells the best anecdotes in the world with a lot of emotion, but they are banal things in the end.
- I see that you are still resilient to watch TV with others, what stories you make up.
- I am very sure of what I am saying. And I feel that this caused you to cut yourself off from the start.
At the mention of the event, her face changed, as if bringing back that event aroused her suspicion. She remained thoughtful, then spoke to me again.
- Before that event, I don't remember much," she clarified. Things like this happen at my age, little one. We lose what makes us human. That's what my illness does.
- You just don't understand me. I'm sure it's real! Something very bad is happening!
- The doctors have assured my deterioration. Even if I were to tell you one thing or another, I'm not sure of it. I can't be. And it will be that way for years to come," she said, her eyes crystal clear. As soon as I get out of here, we'll go for a walk in the park. Promise you'll be with us? I want you to enjoy the family time before the bigger consequences begin.
- But...
- Come on, you're overthinking the whole thing. You're too young for so many worries.
She stroked my cheek, with that gentle smile of hers. I couldn't help shedding a tear, refusing to believe that everything I had investigated was unexplained. No one would listen to me, I thought, I was wrong.
- Go home. Before you go, can you turn on the TV?
- Yes, yes... sure.
I left the hospital room, wiping away tears of frustration and pain. My grandmother's advice had never been in vain, and it always helped me. For once, I had to stop trusting my instincts and start looking at things differently. That's what I thought until I approached one of the consulting rooms, to the cheeky murmuring of some of the doctors.
- Some patients have accidentally injured themselves while performing simple activities while listening to the radio or television. Specifically, they were at the following times: eight o'clock at night, twelve noon, nine o'clock in the morning, nine o'clock at night.
- The songs were profiled for that action; continue repetitive actions until the end of the tone. We estimate the success rate to be around 80 points. Only two people were notified before finishing their duties.
- It is unfortunate that we cannot improve those signals and their effectiveness. It has only been one month of testing for them to waste it so soon.
- They consider what was shown to have been a success. They need to extract the material from the mines for the processors and all that technological junk.
- Will they so suddenly end the experiment?
- They found a more powerful funder than the CIA itself. Besides, after MK and their more sophisticated inventions they consider this child's play.
- Is it child's play to properly control an entire people? I don't even want to know what they have in their possession. Much less how disinterested they are in allowing this to happen right under their noses.
- It's simple, they will leave some of the proceeds from the mines to their own subsidiaries, for sure.
- So, shall we put it all away now?
- Yes, it's time. Wear your headsets and stay off the streets. We don't know what they have in store for us soon.
My heart began to race when he mentioned that upcoming date. What the hell was going to happen? My suspicions were completely confirmed, but time was running out and there was nothing I could do about it. Nor could I move in the face of such a revelation.
The door burst open and I was exposed in front of the three men. They fixed their gazes on me, and it didn't take them long to figure out what I was doing.
- Were you spying on us, you little bastard?
- Get him!
When they tried to lay a hand on me, a spark of adrenaline allowed me to evade them, fleeing the hospital, evading as many security guards as I could find, running through the huge corridors until I found the exit. One of them wanted to stop the only one who continued chasing me, and of course, the speed of a young man prepared to flee was not easy to reach, being my only advantage.
What I didn't count on was a police officer who misinterpreted my actions, stopping me in my tracks when I didn't notice his presence.
- Why are you running?
- Officer, I... - I was trying to catch my breath, looking back without seeing anyone -. I don't know what to do. Something is about to happen. Nobody pays attention to me, I'm so scared and....
- Son, relax - I didn't seem to understand anything with my babbling -. What's going to happen?
- I DON'T KNOW, I DON'T KNOW, BUT I KNOW IT'S BAD.
I felt a huge panic when I saw that man coming towards me; I was walking, tired from the chase, but knowing I wasn't going anywhere thanks to the policeman, who stopped me again when I tried to run away.
- YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO, I HAVE TO RUN.
- You're not going anywhere until you explain to me what's going on.
The town's horns, those located in the main esplanade to give the mayor's announcements, began to activate. I turned around, watching as the man panicked, fleeing back to where he had come from. I knew that, indeed, the horror was about to begin.
And so, as if the apocalypse had been unleashed, absolutely everyone stood still. Everywhere, without exception, in every nook and cranny where the loudspeakers could reach, in every place where the radio was present, and also the television, a sound began to play. I recognized that melody, the melody at the end of the tunnel, the one that would take everyone to paradise. That calm and serene sound, a Beethoven symphony, completely flooded the town. As that sound advanced, that damned sound, my fear increased enormously as I realized that I could not move either. I was paralyzed, from head to toe, just listening to that melody.
It started with one of the citizens, who calmly approached the guard with whom he was talking to before. He looked at him, that cold, emotionless look. It didn't take long to see how he slowly raised the weapon he was carrying towards the head of the villager. Without being able to move or close my eyes, I was a spectator of how that man was brutally killed by a direct shot to the skull, splashing me with blood and, I would like to think not, also with parts of his brain. Soon, more people began to approach, one by one, meeting the same fate. One, two, three, four... I lost count when one of their bodies hit my leg as I fell. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't move, they finally had me prisoner.
The policeman looked at me, he was next, it made me think. Once he raised his gun, a certain relief, came to my mind, knowing that at least it would be a quick death. But it was his last bullet, and he could no longer impart his duty, it was time to go.
He fired one last shot, close enough to rupture my eardrums once and for all. And that's when I was able to briefly snap out of whatever control existed. I fell to the ground, weakened, I was completely terrified and disturbed. With difficulty, as my hand was shaking badly, I began to wipe the blood from my face, when I began to hear again, and felt my body stiffen. I remembered my last line of defense, and immediately put in my earplugs. It didn't mitigate all the noise, but I had enough control to move. At a slow pace, I started to move away from there, only to find real carnage. The whole town was under that effect, and they used any method to end their existence; chainsaws in the butcher shop, vehicles intentionally crushing passersby who stood in front of the car, throwing themselves off the roofs of the houses, only to crawl with broken bones to someone else who could end their agony. Absolutely everyone had that vacant expression, devoid of any emotion. Even when they were bleeding to death, they never did anything to stop it. Blood gushed out of those who sliced their own necks, standing there until they finally collapsed. People being cut like logs in the sawmill, a myriad of horrors that I was not able to avoid as I walked through the streets in search of shelter, I could not just close my eyes and leave, I had to get away from there as soon as possible, I used all my strength to walk as fast as possible, like in those nightmares when you run away from a monster and you are not able to run, but with a smell of blood impregnated in my clothes, which only worsened with the fires. People were lighting gasoline, emptying the cans on themselves and in just seconds the muscles were consumed, falling to the ground. The burning flesh only further increased my discomfort, and now I could not walk, not only out of control, but of my own free will. I was finally collapsing. Slowly, my steps slowed, even in the face of my internal cries to keep going. My body could not take the stress any longer.
I fell to my knees in the midst of that induced chaos. It was beginning to make no sense to continue living, to continue suffering. Then, with the little strength I had left, I decided to remove the earplugs that protected me enough not to perish by my own hands from my ears. Y...
The noise had stopped. There was no screaming, no wailing. Only the purest and most terrible state of silence. With difficulty, I began to look around, People were finally dead. Without exception, or so I thought.
I didn't have time to relax, far from it. I picked myself up a little off the ground, and they weren't all dead. Yet.
The music detonated the horror, but also, ended it. I could move freely, the headache dissipated. But I wasn't the only one who could shake off the control. People were aware now, in the worst moment of their lives. The screams of agony began. All those dying and wounded screamed until their vocal cords tore, and the town in former silence was forged like an extension of hell on earth.
People with their bodies blown apart and run over by the wheels of cars, people with a scab for dark skin, burned to the bone, some bleeding to death from the severity of their wounds, pleading for help, and, above all, they did it to the only conscious and healthy person present. To me. At their cries for help, I froze again, not knowing what to do. I had no medical knowledge, and honestly, there was little I could do to save them. Some even called my name, those people I had known in life, and it was more painful in those I considered my friends.
I was able to move out of fear, feeling an amorphous humanoid mass touching me, tugging at my shirt as it stammered, its face distorted by the flames. I pushed him and he fell without resisting, lying on the ground shrieking in pain. Some were trying to crawl to get closer to me, begging for help, and that's when I was able to move at will, away from the streets towards the only place where I could be safe, my home.
I could see more horrors as I ran through the town, making the situation worse by the minute, as they cried out my name to end their agony. It was the worst five minutes of my life, finally arriving at my abode.
I clumsily picked the lock, taking refuge inside, locking myself in with as many padlocks as possible, moving the couch to form a small barricade.
Although I had come to witness the ravages of the event firsthand. The painful echoes were nonexistent in my abode, at least inside. With difficulty, I began to check every possible corner; the bathroom, the bedrooms, the bedrooms, first, second floor, the basement. There was no one, no human presence. No blood, no traces of a fight. Absolutely nothing.
Once my body was finally able to stabilize, I could be vulnerable. I fell to the ground, shaken. The adrenaline left me, my body ached, I felt nauseous, I was shaking too much. The stress I was subjected to had left me too exhausted, so much so that I ended up passing out.
I don't remember how much time passed, I only witnessed the darkness of the night. A storm was raging in the town. With everything that had happened, I completely forgot that little inconvenience. I smelled like shit, my clothes soaked in other people's blood made me vomit on the floor, still disoriented and terrified by what I had experienced. While I didn't dream anything when I was unconscious, the next thing that would happen would leave me emotionally scarred even to this day. The absent light was replaced by a flash of lightning, a flash that was enough to tell me something I was not able to find out before I collapsed; a corpse, one more, hanging. One more flash of lightning, and it was no longer just one. It was several, hanging somewhere. As I looked through the window, at the tree outside the home, the one they had preserved so well, was now part of our family in a macabre irony. The rest of mine, all of them, were hanging from the branches, some headless bodies lay on the ground, their necks unable to support the weight of their bodies. With each flash of the storm, more bodies joined the ranks. All those I had seen die penetrated the walls of the house with their gazes, judging, cold, dead. No matter how much she had closed the curtains and the windows, no matter how many barricades she tried to form, their indifferent eyes pierced the walls. Corpses crowded around my home, some crawling, others, even as bones pierced skin and flesh was exposed, even if their skulls were blown out or their organs dragged, had swarmed to silently judge me for not being one of them. I jumped back, walking away. Only their expressionless gazes were directed at me, as if, even in death, they were begging me for mercy in the face of their fate.
I went up to the second floor and closed the door to my room. Again, I was cornered. I closed the windows, moved away from there, and in a clumsy effort to hide, stayed under my bed, spending that night disturbed by the unnerving situation outside. Even when the walls limited eye contact, I felt those penetrating gazes upon me at every turn.
The next day I awoke very late, even with the internal and external pain present. Over and over again that voice repeated itself in my mind, that song that triggered it all, as those beings forced their way into the room. Fortunately, the nightmare remained just that, and finally, the wounds and the wear and tear did their work.
When I got up the courage to leave, the desolate landscape of the surroundings invaded me with a sepulchral silence. The streets were empty, the stores the same. There was no sign or evidence of the incident. Where were they? That was the first question on my mind. The corpses were non-existent, even in places I remembered, they had fallen after the effort to get me. Am I hallucinating? Isn't all this true? Am I part of them and I can't tell?
The paranoia was enough to keep me agitated and wanting to wake up from this agony. Was I like one of them? Am I just a simple body with no will living an illusion? Even if I cried, kicked and fought, it was impossible to know or to get out of this control. I simply walked through the town, the one that gave me a second chance. Finally, the hopes I had for a better future had been annihilated.
I advanced like an aimless soul through the streets, and I could see something, something that was real. I could understand it, when I saw how they simply picked up the bodies from the ground, in an area where they still remained. They were trucks similar to the ones that had arrived in town. They picked up the bodies and threw them away as if they were worthless.
- It is a pleasure that we have done business, Mr. Mayor - a voice was heard.
- Yes, I told you I had the right place in which to do the tests.
- Consider this finished. No one will ever know this place existed. Your flight awaits.
A van promptly turned on, and drove off, disappearing into the distance. I started to look out, seeing some men retrieving the borrowed tech equipment back to town. They were the same, those strange suppliers of that company I could never find out anything about. The cleanup was still going on in town, and a strong tremor shook my worn-out body to the ground. In the distance, a building was beginning to fall in a kind of controlled demolition. And it would not be the only one, but the whole place would fall. They were handling the situation as if they had had it figured out from the moment they first arrived in town.
It didn't take them long to find me, especially since my emaciated appearance gave me away as a survivor of the siege. The woman's shocked gaze was fixed on me. A young brown-haired man, completely bloodied, fatigued, destroyed and disoriented. It was clear that he must not be alive. Only a miracle or an unbreakable force of will had made me remain above all things. Or perhaps something special.
I didn't run away when she came to me. I didn't have the strength for it. Nor did I want to. I was tired already. I just wanted it to be over. In her eyes I could see guilt and remorse for allowing this to happen. It was none other than the woman who had interviewed me at my home, a week before this event. Seeing the huge change reflected in me made her break down, and she didn't have the guts to pull the gun in her waistband. Instead, she chose the only path where she could find redemption for herself.
- Come with me, boy," she said without further ado, taking me by the hand, "I'll take you away from here.
An unexpected gesture of human kindness, or perhaps a trap. I didn't care, nor did I have the strength to fight. My body moved thanks to his intervention, getting me into a lonely van, and leaving the village behind in the past.
The experiment was terminated that day. The remains of it were quickly demolished and destined for a technology production company, using the nearby mines rich in super-conductive materials, and using the few survivors as cheap labor. The legend of the Doveland village was spread on the internet by a few netizens, but discredited by the citizens of Wisconsin, who have no memory of it whatsoever. The only remnant was a lost photo, leaving behind a town that witnessed one of the cruelest experiments imparted to mankind.