Dark Messages
An exaggerated kindness is always a sign of treason.
An exaggerated kindness is always a sign of treason.
Christine closed the door and put his keys in his pocket. She turned and observed a moment the empty hall before her. They were not returned. Her parents had wanted to spend Saturday night "them" outside, and had warned they would return later. She concluded that they should not return any time soon. It was only 10:30 p.m.
Christine watched with regret that empty house, she had imagined that her party would last a little longer. The movie was good with Thomas ... But she wanted to spend more time with him. She had met him, two weeks ago on the Internet and invited him at the party she had organized for her seventeen years old. He was well caught the eye and obviously it was mutual ... Even if tonight he had not insisted on staying a little longer with her.
Unsure what to do, she climbed the stairs painfully. Anyway She spend more evenings with him ... Next time she will ask him to go for a drink ... Rrraahhh! It's a pity, for once she did not have parents on my back!
On reaching her room she closed the door with her hand, while she was closing, she sent her jacket on the back of his chair and fell on her bed, lying on his back. Door slam then made room for silence. She looked at the ceiling, are busy rehearsing the beautiful moments of the evening, wondering what she would do tomorrow, thinking about her next appointment with Thomas or her friends. Surely they would call tomorrow to spend Sunday afternoon at something better than staying locked at home. In fact, she was called tonight? She sat on her bed, grabbed the bottom of her jacket, searched into a pocket, and pulled out her cell phone.
Ah yes! It is off. I had cut at the beginning movie ... I forgot to turn it back earlier. Bah! It is not important, anyway no one had called me tonight ... They should all be having fun ... Them ... And I'm here all alone ... Pff ... Ah, yes! I had messages on my voicemail... Huh? Eight? Well that's a lot! It looks likely to call me since just now ... Hey, maybe I will not wallow here tonight finally! Excited to make this evening to rejoin her friends, she called her voicemail without waiting.
"Please enter your user password.
..
You have... eight ... New messages no heard "
She had therefore been eight messages, at least there she was sure, but who might well have called eight times tonight?
"Message received twenty-two hours ... ... twenty-five minutes ..."
"WHAT!"
Christine was surprised, amazed. She looked at his watch without waiting to make sure it was right on time. It was 10:34 p.m..
Oh God! Eight calls in nine minutes! It's insane, why would seek both to join me ... unless ... I hope nothing serious happened ... It would be terrible if ...
She was interrupted in his thoughts that the message began.
At first she wondered if her phone was working, but since he walked just heard distinctly the voice mailbox. The sound was strange, like a rustling of the wind towel followed by a thud, the sound was repeated, regular ... As the sound of a washing machine, like a record player reached the end of the forty-five rounds . The sound seemed so cold and repetitive "schrrr frrr chrrr boom ... boom ... schrrr frrr chrrr schrrr frrr chrrr boom. During the first few seconds, she could not find any sound it could be, then the sound of a car made her understand that he was called to the street. At the same time everything seemed clear. She was called by mistake! The device should be in the pocket, the keypad was not locked, and support key had ended up calling a phone number of cell ... And it fell on her.
Amused, she listened to the message. Always making mechanical, repetitive, the sound of cars, and also the wind. True, it was not very nice in the evening of October, and on leaving the cinema, wind was already beginning to blow. The sound here was scary, like a ghostly long complaint, a "ooouhhhh" which reminded him of the morning gale, during which it issued its complaint through the focus of the fireplace in the living room.
"End of message"
The sudden return to the voicemail surprised her. The message was cut off suddenly, probably due to a new accidental pressing the call key. This was not the brutality of the message that surprised, but rather the fact to hear this woman's voice, calm and collected, so that contrasted with the mechanical noise, mingled with that of cars, and breath of wind on cellular microphone. She did not realize was while listening to the message, but the sound was basically rather sinister.
"Press 7 to erase the 9 to save."
.. "Delete "
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... twenty-seven minutes ..."
The message was almost identical to the first. Always making repetitive, monotonous, which became for her a little scary, heavier than before.
"There are six more like this? ... Well ... Super! But it comes from who? Who is this person who calls me all the time?'
Wanting to move to the next message for the mailbox to furnish the caller's number and having heard enough of this noise, she cut the message immediately.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... twenty-eight minutes ..."
But the voicemail did not give a number, normally it should have made a "message from ..." She remembered that on the first two messages we had not reported the phone number. It concluded that the appellant had probably chosen that the number is hidden from people who called. The message "unknown number, unknown name" displayed when a person who telephoned this option. She rummaged in her memory to find that she knew in this case. Barely had she started to think that the message began, and resumed his overwhelming. A little more each time, it increased it by a certain disorder.
The repetitive sound stopped. The howl of the wind became more important in the absence of noise produced by knocking out walking, she could still hear the cars go. The person was still in the street and had stopped, she could hear nothing just the wind and cars. What is it? Or what does it do? Christine thought. It may be looking at something? Stopping to light a cigarette? Or just take a little time to wander? All this made her more curious. She was not feeling very well, embarrassed to hear another person without his knowledge, and also simply because the sound of walking through the microphone of the cell in the pocket was scary!
Then the unpleasant sound resumed its walk, began to worry her openly. "Schrrr frrr chrrr boom ... boom ... Schrrr frrr chrrr" She continued to listen to the message, the noise of the cars appeared to diminish. Is this his way in a subdivision? Is he going to a smaller street? Finally bothered by this side "voyeur spite her," she cut the message and passed to the next.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... thirty minutes ..."
The message was always the same. Always making repetitive and dull. But she could hear the noise of cars, the person must surely have engaged in a street. Irritated by the sound, she cut off the message.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... ... beep beep beep"
Surprised by the sound it put the cell in front of her. As the buzzer had indicated, she had just received a new message ... The person continued to call her by mistake.
She handed the cell to her ear, and was surprised to hear quite clearly the mewing of a cat. she heared no car noise, just the noise and wind. Then, the sound turned slightly, she saw as an echo, the person was perhaps a yard or in a narrow lane. Repetitive noise became increasingly slow, then stopped, then it is only her surprise she heard whimpering. These were rather weak, but she was sure she heard someone moaning in the distance was, a female voice, but it was hard to hear. The steps, the lamentations put her, ill at ease.
The noise of the footsteps resumed, albeit slowly. The volume of moans increased. He or she approaches her ... Is she sick? Why she moaned like that? He or she is to her family, perhaps? Christine mingled in all these questions ... She was afraid, more afraid of what she meant, but it's clouded, she wanted enough to know what would happen to not hang up.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... thirty-one minutes ..."
The wind was still blowing, the footsteps ceased, the moaning continued, It was very strong now. Christine concludes that he or she must stand before the woman. Was it his mother? Maybe yes ... or maybe not, she didn't know very well. She felt both annoyed and uncomfortable to listen to it all without their knowledge.
She was really worried when the groans gave way to tears. She heard the woman cry much, ear she would have said that the woman must be old, may be in his fifties. But why was she crying? Christine shaking, the phone to her ear, trembling. Her arm, her body shivered, she felt ill ... She was afraid of what this meant. The sound of the wind, tears, and above the sound of footsteps had been gradually plunging to the fear of disorder. But she did not hang up, she wanted to know, she wanted to hear more.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... thirty-three minutes ..."
The crying grew, it was becoming increasingly difficult to continue to hear that. Suddenly a frantic rubbing noise was heard forcefully, they were soon accompanied by pops and deaf. This was especially the cries of the woman who was scary for Christine. She screamed, she suffered ... The thud heard it now, she quickly realized, was inevitably the sound of blows inflicted to the woman.
Christine was paralyzed by what listening and what it could be concluded. She sat on her bed, not knowing what to do, all mixed in her head, it was all so unthinkable. She was being heard, with a handful of minutes late, someone beat furiously an woman. Completely panicked, she cut off the message.
"Next message received twenty-two ... hours ... ... four ... thirty minutes ..."
"It will never end! "
She thought upon hearing the announcement of the next message. She almost turned off the phone, but she did not ... Maybe she could learn more? Maybe she could speak? ... She could not bring himself to hang up, she could not ... She does not want.
Just the beginning of the message petrified. Friction rustled as always, the cries of the woman had given way to groans, the sound of shots continued to ring. She heard the attacker to issue small claims, surely due to the enormous effort he displayed and despicable. It was the voice of a man ... But she could still hear the sound badly. It was gradually that the dark cloud of terror invaded Christine as the sounds of the woman faded, and the groans of the attacker gave way to howls of stronger and stronger ...
Gradually she realized with horror the voice of Thomas. She remembered to have had calls from her. His number was not displayed on her cell. She remembered it well because she had said she could not know when he would call before answering. Her boyfriend was therefore certainly beating a woman somewhere, maybe he beat her to death ... She heard the voice of woman, more than the bellowing of Thomas and the sound of his blows to the body of the woman. Terrified, Christine hung up, she did not want to hear all these messages, it was all too horrible, too disgusting, but it was not possible, she must have misunderstood.
The ringing of her phone, yet fun, and terrified when it rang. She was immersed in her torments, not knowing what to think or do. The ringing of his phone made him the effect of an electric shock through the body.
Slowly she brought her cell in front of her eyes on the screen, she was not surprised, was marked "unknown number" She waited a ringtone, then two, she was terrified. Then she almost spontaneously pressed the button to respond promptly and pressed the phone to his ear. She heard more shots. She heard a noise just regular rubbing it all. Christine was crying, she imagined the poor woman, half dead, hanging by Thomas the feet. This image in his head was unbearable, especially followed by the sound of friction loss.
Suddenly a shock was heard, the volume was so loud it hurt her in the ear, and added to the element of surprise, she took off some time in the unit. When she approached, the only sound she heard was the wind much stronger than before.
Suddenly she heard a rumbling sound mixed with a bang. Then suddenly, she distinctly heard the voice of Thomas.
"Christine?"
Taken by surprise, she could not repress a little cry of surprise.
"Damn Christine? Good God, what are you doing online, shit SHIT! Wed .."
Completely shocked and traumatized, she immediately hung up and turned off her cell.
He heard me scream! My God, he knows that I heard ... Help, Please! What can I do? It will perhaps come here and, kill me! I can not stay here, I must go now, maybe it was near the house? Oh damn! It's horrible, I ... I gotta go to the police ... I must warn the police! With that, Christine jumped on her bed, and propelled at high speed out of the house. She would run to the police station in the city, which was only five minutes from her house.
But she never reached the police station.
She was buried a week later, two days after finding her body and that of the beggar that Thomas was beaten to death.
Would you accept the friendship of this man? Maybe you may have him as a friend. Be carefull.
The next victim may be, YOU!
Karole McDowell 2010 - (c) Reproduction is prohibited without permission from the author.
Christine watched with regret that empty house, she had imagined that her party would last a little longer. The movie was good with Thomas ... But she wanted to spend more time with him. She had met him, two weeks ago on the Internet and invited him at the party she had organized for her seventeen years old. He was well caught the eye and obviously it was mutual ... Even if tonight he had not insisted on staying a little longer with her.
Unsure what to do, she climbed the stairs painfully. Anyway She spend more evenings with him ... Next time she will ask him to go for a drink ... Rrraahhh! It's a pity, for once she did not have parents on my back!
On reaching her room she closed the door with her hand, while she was closing, she sent her jacket on the back of his chair and fell on her bed, lying on his back. Door slam then made room for silence. She looked at the ceiling, are busy rehearsing the beautiful moments of the evening, wondering what she would do tomorrow, thinking about her next appointment with Thomas or her friends. Surely they would call tomorrow to spend Sunday afternoon at something better than staying locked at home. In fact, she was called tonight? She sat on her bed, grabbed the bottom of her jacket, searched into a pocket, and pulled out her cell phone.
Ah yes! It is off. I had cut at the beginning movie ... I forgot to turn it back earlier. Bah! It is not important, anyway no one had called me tonight ... They should all be having fun ... Them ... And I'm here all alone ... Pff ... Ah, yes! I had messages on my voicemail... Huh? Eight? Well that's a lot! It looks likely to call me since just now ... Hey, maybe I will not wallow here tonight finally! Excited to make this evening to rejoin her friends, she called her voicemail without waiting.
"Please enter your user password.
..
You have... eight ... New messages no heard "
She had therefore been eight messages, at least there she was sure, but who might well have called eight times tonight?
"Message received twenty-two hours ... ... twenty-five minutes ..."
"WHAT!"
Christine was surprised, amazed. She looked at his watch without waiting to make sure it was right on time. It was 10:34 p.m..
Oh God! Eight calls in nine minutes! It's insane, why would seek both to join me ... unless ... I hope nothing serious happened ... It would be terrible if ...
She was interrupted in his thoughts that the message began.
At first she wondered if her phone was working, but since he walked just heard distinctly the voice mailbox. The sound was strange, like a rustling of the wind towel followed by a thud, the sound was repeated, regular ... As the sound of a washing machine, like a record player reached the end of the forty-five rounds . The sound seemed so cold and repetitive "schrrr frrr chrrr boom ... boom ... schrrr frrr chrrr schrrr frrr chrrr boom. During the first few seconds, she could not find any sound it could be, then the sound of a car made her understand that he was called to the street. At the same time everything seemed clear. She was called by mistake! The device should be in the pocket, the keypad was not locked, and support key had ended up calling a phone number of cell ... And it fell on her.
Amused, she listened to the message. Always making mechanical, repetitive, the sound of cars, and also the wind. True, it was not very nice in the evening of October, and on leaving the cinema, wind was already beginning to blow. The sound here was scary, like a ghostly long complaint, a "ooouhhhh" which reminded him of the morning gale, during which it issued its complaint through the focus of the fireplace in the living room.
"End of message"
The sudden return to the voicemail surprised her. The message was cut off suddenly, probably due to a new accidental pressing the call key. This was not the brutality of the message that surprised, but rather the fact to hear this woman's voice, calm and collected, so that contrasted with the mechanical noise, mingled with that of cars, and breath of wind on cellular microphone. She did not realize was while listening to the message, but the sound was basically rather sinister.
"Press 7 to erase the 9 to save."
.. "Delete "
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... twenty-seven minutes ..."
The message was almost identical to the first. Always making repetitive, monotonous, which became for her a little scary, heavier than before.
"There are six more like this? ... Well ... Super! But it comes from who? Who is this person who calls me all the time?'
Wanting to move to the next message for the mailbox to furnish the caller's number and having heard enough of this noise, she cut the message immediately.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... twenty-eight minutes ..."
But the voicemail did not give a number, normally it should have made a "message from ..." She remembered that on the first two messages we had not reported the phone number. It concluded that the appellant had probably chosen that the number is hidden from people who called. The message "unknown number, unknown name" displayed when a person who telephoned this option. She rummaged in her memory to find that she knew in this case. Barely had she started to think that the message began, and resumed his overwhelming. A little more each time, it increased it by a certain disorder.
The repetitive sound stopped. The howl of the wind became more important in the absence of noise produced by knocking out walking, she could still hear the cars go. The person was still in the street and had stopped, she could hear nothing just the wind and cars. What is it? Or what does it do? Christine thought. It may be looking at something? Stopping to light a cigarette? Or just take a little time to wander? All this made her more curious. She was not feeling very well, embarrassed to hear another person without his knowledge, and also simply because the sound of walking through the microphone of the cell in the pocket was scary!
Then the unpleasant sound resumed its walk, began to worry her openly. "Schrrr frrr chrrr boom ... boom ... Schrrr frrr chrrr" She continued to listen to the message, the noise of the cars appeared to diminish. Is this his way in a subdivision? Is he going to a smaller street? Finally bothered by this side "voyeur spite her," she cut the message and passed to the next.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... thirty minutes ..."
The message was always the same. Always making repetitive and dull. But she could hear the noise of cars, the person must surely have engaged in a street. Irritated by the sound, she cut off the message.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... ... beep beep beep"
Surprised by the sound it put the cell in front of her. As the buzzer had indicated, she had just received a new message ... The person continued to call her by mistake.
She handed the cell to her ear, and was surprised to hear quite clearly the mewing of a cat. she heared no car noise, just the noise and wind. Then, the sound turned slightly, she saw as an echo, the person was perhaps a yard or in a narrow lane. Repetitive noise became increasingly slow, then stopped, then it is only her surprise she heard whimpering. These were rather weak, but she was sure she heard someone moaning in the distance was, a female voice, but it was hard to hear. The steps, the lamentations put her, ill at ease.
The noise of the footsteps resumed, albeit slowly. The volume of moans increased. He or she approaches her ... Is she sick? Why she moaned like that? He or she is to her family, perhaps? Christine mingled in all these questions ... She was afraid, more afraid of what she meant, but it's clouded, she wanted enough to know what would happen to not hang up.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... thirty-one minutes ..."
The wind was still blowing, the footsteps ceased, the moaning continued, It was very strong now. Christine concludes that he or she must stand before the woman. Was it his mother? Maybe yes ... or maybe not, she didn't know very well. She felt both annoyed and uncomfortable to listen to it all without their knowledge.
She was really worried when the groans gave way to tears. She heard the woman cry much, ear she would have said that the woman must be old, may be in his fifties. But why was she crying? Christine shaking, the phone to her ear, trembling. Her arm, her body shivered, she felt ill ... She was afraid of what this meant. The sound of the wind, tears, and above the sound of footsteps had been gradually plunging to the fear of disorder. But she did not hang up, she wanted to know, she wanted to hear more.
"Next message received twenty-two hours ... ... ... thirty-three minutes ..."
The crying grew, it was becoming increasingly difficult to continue to hear that. Suddenly a frantic rubbing noise was heard forcefully, they were soon accompanied by pops and deaf. This was especially the cries of the woman who was scary for Christine. She screamed, she suffered ... The thud heard it now, she quickly realized, was inevitably the sound of blows inflicted to the woman.
Christine was paralyzed by what listening and what it could be concluded. She sat on her bed, not knowing what to do, all mixed in her head, it was all so unthinkable. She was being heard, with a handful of minutes late, someone beat furiously an woman. Completely panicked, she cut off the message.
"Next message received twenty-two ... hours ... ... four ... thirty minutes ..."
"It will never end! "
She thought upon hearing the announcement of the next message. She almost turned off the phone, but she did not ... Maybe she could learn more? Maybe she could speak? ... She could not bring himself to hang up, she could not ... She does not want.
Just the beginning of the message petrified. Friction rustled as always, the cries of the woman had given way to groans, the sound of shots continued to ring. She heard the attacker to issue small claims, surely due to the enormous effort he displayed and despicable. It was the voice of a man ... But she could still hear the sound badly. It was gradually that the dark cloud of terror invaded Christine as the sounds of the woman faded, and the groans of the attacker gave way to howls of stronger and stronger ...
Gradually she realized with horror the voice of Thomas. She remembered to have had calls from her. His number was not displayed on her cell. She remembered it well because she had said she could not know when he would call before answering. Her boyfriend was therefore certainly beating a woman somewhere, maybe he beat her to death ... She heard the voice of woman, more than the bellowing of Thomas and the sound of his blows to the body of the woman. Terrified, Christine hung up, she did not want to hear all these messages, it was all too horrible, too disgusting, but it was not possible, she must have misunderstood.
The ringing of her phone, yet fun, and terrified when it rang. She was immersed in her torments, not knowing what to think or do. The ringing of his phone made him the effect of an electric shock through the body.
Slowly she brought her cell in front of her eyes on the screen, she was not surprised, was marked "unknown number" She waited a ringtone, then two, she was terrified. Then she almost spontaneously pressed the button to respond promptly and pressed the phone to his ear. She heard more shots. She heard a noise just regular rubbing it all. Christine was crying, she imagined the poor woman, half dead, hanging by Thomas the feet. This image in his head was unbearable, especially followed by the sound of friction loss.
Suddenly a shock was heard, the volume was so loud it hurt her in the ear, and added to the element of surprise, she took off some time in the unit. When she approached, the only sound she heard was the wind much stronger than before.
Suddenly she heard a rumbling sound mixed with a bang. Then suddenly, she distinctly heard the voice of Thomas.
"Christine?"
Taken by surprise, she could not repress a little cry of surprise.
"Damn Christine? Good God, what are you doing online, shit SHIT! Wed .."
Completely shocked and traumatized, she immediately hung up and turned off her cell.
He heard me scream! My God, he knows that I heard ... Help, Please! What can I do? It will perhaps come here and, kill me! I can not stay here, I must go now, maybe it was near the house? Oh damn! It's horrible, I ... I gotta go to the police ... I must warn the police! With that, Christine jumped on her bed, and propelled at high speed out of the house. She would run to the police station in the city, which was only five minutes from her house.
But she never reached the police station.
She was buried a week later, two days after finding her body and that of the beggar that Thomas was beaten to death.
Would you accept the friendship of this man? Maybe you may have him as a friend. Be carefull.
The next victim may be, YOU!
Karole McDowell 2010 - (c) Reproduction is prohibited without permission from the author.
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