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The Telephone

By Michael Berry All Rights Reserved ©

Other

Chapter 27

Sarah ran for her life out of the apartment and into her own, running to getaway from the chaos all around her, away from spirits and ghosts and the unknown and return to the normal real world. She could hear William running after her, shouting for her to stop, but she was too terrified to listen to him, her mind was flooded with one single thought that screamed control in her head. The thought of escape.

She suddenly fell forward as her foot tripped over something and she fell to the ground with a hard thud. Her head landed on the floor with a smack, the result knocked her head slightly and blurred her vision. She groaned and felt around for something to help pick her up and was confused to feel the cold touch of what felt like hard floor tiles, she could them underneath her head as well.
She ignored her confused fears for a moment while she waited for William to catch up to her and pick her up. Long minutes of silence passed by with nothing. She no longer heard his hurried footsteps or his loud voice shouting for her to come back.
What the hells happening, here? Where the hell am I?
She picked herself up from the tiled floor and stood upright, holding her head for a moment as the pain of it hitting the floor still throbbed, she felt dizzy, almost like she wasn’t really stood up, like the feeling of being drugged.
She opened her eyes and held back her breathing, her arm slowly fell to her side.
She saw that she was inside some kind of large palace, or a big white building. The floor, the walls and the ceiling were all perfectly white, devoid of any marks or stains or even litter, as well as furniture or simple looking objects, nothing but a huge empty white room. The ceiling was a huge dome, similar to the one in the ceiling of the Town Hall. But this one was devoid of any fantastic artwork, and was merely painted a dark brown colour with a tiny circular hole in the centre where what looked like sunlight shone through. She squinted her eyes to see more detail, but saw only the same fuzzy images in front of her, like looking at a bad picture on a television, or being inside a dream.
Where the hell am I, now. I was running in my apartment building, and now I’m here. What the fuck is happening?
She walked forward a little, slowly and quietly so as not to disturb anything that might be around here. The echoes of her shoes on the tiled floor sounded dull, muffled, not at all as loud as they ought to have been. The air around her that she could feel and smell seemed thick with something, something that made the back of her throat tickle. She thought she could recognise it as cigarette smoke, and it smelled like it had been wafting around here for years, constantly being replenished by more and more people.
As she approached closer, she heard the distant sound of static coming from the other side of the room. She had learned to be wary of static since first hearing of E.V.P and kept her distance, stepping forward only in slow footsteps when she felt it was safe enough.
The static grew louder as she approached, almost too loud to quickly. Eventually, it became so intense that it felt as though she was stood right beside whatever it was coming from. She hesitated to go further and wanted to turn back and somehow find her way back to the real world. But, the harder she tried to turn around and walk back, the stronger an invisible force pushed her further on, the same force she had felt in the other bizarre places she had seen while being asleep.
Please, don’t, she said aloud, speaking aloud to whatever was constantly pushing her. I don’t want to go further. For gods sake, let me go!
She kicked her legs and waved her arms violently, anything to stop herself continuing. But, it was worthless, the invisible power pushing her on seemed to almost pick her up and hold her in mid-air while she constantly battled feebly against it.
Let me go, you son of a bitch, let me out of here!
Unfettered, the strong force carried her over the tiled floor and further toward the ever closing static. After a few moments, Sarah could make out vague details appearing as she came closer. At first the images were blurred and distorted and couldn’t be identified, the finally, then came into view, still relatively blurred, but easy to make out.
The images were a set of large empty armchairs, four to be exact. They were placed in relevant positions to see the small television set on top of a small wooden box. The television had a small slightly mangled aerial on top, the armchairs had stuffing poking out of a few small holes.
What the hell is this, why am I being shown this?
Sarah could still hear the static loud and clear, so loud that her ears were hurting. It took her a moment to work through the groggy feeling and find out where the static was coming from. She realised it was coming from the television.
Suddenly, without warning, the unknown power keeping her leaving slackened its grip on her and allowed her to fall slowly into mid- air and then eerily float in the air just above the ground, her arms and legs waving around slowly. The experience was slightly enjoyable to her, almost like swimming in the ocean, though she wished it wasn’t.
She stared at the television as it roared constantly with static and white noise. As she stared, she could make out vague images in the static, appearing and then quickly vanishing before she had chance to fully make them out. At a glance, they appeared to be quick images of the silhouettes of figures constantly moving on the screen, waving their arms and shaking their heads. They looked like they were in distress, calling out for help.
I don’t give a damn about you people, she shouted in her mind. You’re all fucking dead, I can’t help, even if I wanted to. Now, get me the hell out of here, now!
Then, through the roaring static of the television came another sound, a sound similar to the static, but of a more acute sound wave. It came closer and Sarah had to cover her ears when the collective noise around her grew to powerful to bear. The new sound came closer, and sounded almost like that of an alarm on the wall of a building, but seemingly distorted, somehow.
Suddenly, the hairs on Sarah’s skin stood on end as an intense cold overcame her, causing her to shiver and rub her arms vigorously to keep warm. From the direction that the alarm like sound was coming from, came also the powerful feeling of a presence nearby, something that knew she was there, its eyes burning deep into her soul.
Go away, get the fuck away from me, please. She tried to turn away from approaching presence, but her entire body refused to listen to her screaming orders. She suddenly felt paralysed, unable to move except for only a few little movements. She closed her eyes tightly and moved her head away from the direction of the ever looming presence. If she couldn’t run from whatever was coming to her, she could at least block her view of it and pretend it
wasn’t there.
The hairs on her skin stuck up as far as they could go as the presence came a mere few feet from her and remained there, apparently not moving any further. Its presence there seemed to affect the static on the television, causing it to flicker and alternate to something else.
Oh, god, what the hell am I gonna’ do. I have to get out of here, right now.
She slowly opened her eyes, despite every instinct in her body telling her to keep them closed and ignore what was there. But, she had to know what it was, she had to see it and understand it. She was getting tired of being afraid.
She opened her eyes fully and turned her shaking head slowly to the left. She stopped breathing for a few moments as sudden shock overwhelmed her.
Hovering behind one of the armchairs was the creepy looking figure of a man dressed in ordinary clothes, his feet hovering just above the floor. His arms were dangling downward toward the floor, as was his head. There was no expression on his face, his mouth was closed and his lifeless eyes stared on toward the flickering television. He seemed to notice Sarah and carried on as if she wasn’t there. He looked like a corpse that had been propped up by someone to appear standing.
A strange feel came from him, a dull feel of a resonating power that Sarah couldn’t understand. One thing was clear now, though. The strange alarm like sound was coming directly from the figure, radiating from it like some strange kind of power.
Sarah’s body flinched suddenly as she saw the vivid figures slowly appearing in the armchairs, the same way that ghosts appeared in front of someone. Sarah couldn’t tell whether they were male or female, but then again, she didn’t give a damn about what gender they were and wanted to just leave and be out of here. But, the same body paralysis forced her to remain.
The figures were seated just like an ordinary person would sit, slouched, their heads being held by their hands, a tired and bored expression on their faces as they watched the flickering screen of static. They were wearing ordinary clothes, but they had no colour, almost like seeing them in a black and white photograph.
“How long will this take?” Came the whispered and fast paced voice from one of the figures.
“We have done wrong,” another said. “The crimes in life, we pay for them now.”
Silence for a moment, then: “I’m bored, the reception is bad. I hate you people. My gravestone is close to falling.”
“I miss my home,“ another said suddenly at the top of its voice. “Munich is most beautiful, now!”
“Where is god?” One of them said. “He needs to see his souls, he needs to see we have changed before his sight. We pray to him night and day and hear nothing but the screams of the others. Were is the Land of the Soul?”
“You’re insane,” another deeper voice said. The screaming ones are his favourites. They have the Land of Soul all to themselves, we have the bad picture.”
The static on the television slowly began to change and filter out until a faint image could be made out. The image was of what looked like the face of a dead man, his mouth open, his eyes rolled over at the back of his head, his skin heavily rotted and flaked.
Sarah turned her head suddenly to the right when she heard the approach of small footsteps approaching. Then, from out of the surrounding static like mist came the vivid image of a small girl with long golden flowing hair, she was wearing an old fashioned night dress made of cotton that ran down to the floor. Her arms were hanging by her sides. Her expression was that of sorrow.
She walked slowly to the armchairs, the figures seated hardly noticed her. She raised her right arm to her face and wiped away the tears streaming down her face. She looked up at the seated figures, her face looked as if it would suddenly break out in emotion.
“I miss my mommy,” she said in a blubbery voice.
The figure nearest to her turned their head and looked at her for a moment. They then leaned forward and took her in their arms and set her down on their lap, allowing her head to be cushioned by their chest. “Watch this with us,” the figure said to her. “The programme is good.”
The image in front of Sarah began to fade out suddenly, almost like a black and white film that was slowly coming to an end. Long, straight black lines quickly appeared and disappeared before her eyes, the grainy and vivid image slowly began to blur out until the obvious shapes and images were non recognisable anymore. The grogginess in Sarah’s head quickly began to grow, it was hard to keep her eyes open and stay awake, until finally sleep prevailed and the image was lost from her completely.

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