Bogleech.com's 2013 Horror Write-off:
" Silent Screams "
Submitted by Jesse
The following is a series of audio recordings found within the residence of one Thomas Michaels. The recordings were retrieved by a number of officers as they apprehended Thomas, who at the time was recording the final entry; all while covered in his latest victims’ blood. Only the most important entries have been submitted below.
Oct. 15th, 2013
Wow, how do I even start one of these? I guess I’ll start with my visit to my doctor. Or rather, why I visited my doctor.” Some shuffling is heard. “It all started with some headaches. Usually not a cause for concern, but these…these were worse than what I usually get. Much worse.” A moment of silence. “I was forgetting things, at least, I think I was. Hard to say when you’re forgetting things if you’ve forgotten them.” A nervous laugh.
“Anyway, I took some aspirin and went to see my psychologist, to see if my affliction was acting up again. That was yesterday, I think…Yeah, definitely yesterday. Anyhow, after a long chat, one which determined I was still “in the clear”, so to speak, my doctor decided I should start either a journal or record what I’m doing. That way, I can tell if I’m forgetting things or not.” A deep sigh. “So here I am, recording myself…
Fuck it, that’ll do for today.”
Oct.16th, 2013
“Alright, day two.” Thomas seems to be contemplating something. “So, it seems things are going well today. Checked over all my recordings for the day, and nope, I didn’t forget a thing. But the headaches persist, and I have this really bad, nagging feeling that I’m forgetting something. Almost like a little voice saying “Hey, what about this?”
But I can never remember what the “this” is. It’s kind of distressing, but I’m sure it’s nothing. So I guess this recording shit isn’t as necessary as I thought. But I’m going to keep at it, for at least a few more days. Better safe than sorry.”
Oct. 18th, 2013
Recording starts with awkward shuffling.
“There we go. Alright, so day four into my daily recording, and things haven’t changed. My memory isn’t going as I feared. But instead I am presented with a new problem. That feeling of forgetfulness resides, as do the headaches. Went to see the doctor late yesterday, and he said it was nothing to be worried about, although if the problem escalated I was to see him immediately.
As for the headaches, he gave me some sort of headache relief medication. Hope it does the trick, this pain is really getting to me.”
Oct. 19th, 2013
“Ugh, just got back from work, and things aren’t getting better. In fact, they’ve gotten quite a bit worse. The headaches are lightening up, whether naturally or through usage of medication, I can’t be sure, but the nagging feeling has grown substantially. It’s gotten to the point that I can “hear” whispering. I don’t know what’s being whispered, but it has nothing to do with forgetfulness, I can tell you that much. Time to see my doc tor again.”
Oct. 20th, 2013
Thomas is heard groaning angrily, then a few seconds of silence. “Ok, so my doc doesn’t know what the problem is, although he’s attributed it to a number of things. Stress, insomnia, hell, even some sorta disorder that I didn’t catch. Problematic, I know, but it gets worse. That whispering is getting louder, especially in public places. If I don’t get something done about this, I think I just might go insane.” Nervous laughter is heard. “If I wasn’t already.”
Oct.25th, 2013
“So much to say, no idea where to start.” A sigh, and a few moments of silence. “I guess I should’ve been using these more in the past days, be easier to tell my doctor my problems if I showed him what I’ve been going through. So…it’s gotten bad, real bad. No more headaches, which is good I guess, but that whispering…It ain’t whispering anymore. It’s talking now. Full blown “talking”. No conversations, just voices repeating the same thing over and over again…
They’re saying “Help me…” More silence.
“I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I’m scared shitless. It’s worse in public places, as I’ve mentioned before. The more people, the more talking. It’s driving me nuts. Work is even more of a chore now; I can’t even concentrate properly with this, this “plea for help.” Doc says he’s going to contact another specialist immediately. Gave me some more pills in the meantime, says they should help. But who’s calling? Who’s talking? What the hell am I even saying?” Thomas lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m the one that needs help.” The next few entries are more of the same, but something occurs on November 7th. Entries after this point have been logged carefully, so as to improve the ease of legibility and understanding of Thomas’ deteriorating condition.
Nov. 7th, 2013
“Yelling, all I hear. I go outside; yells amplify, yet not safe inside. Muffled, but the yelling persists; sleep nearly impossible now. Caused an uproar at work. I heard the yelling, and screamed for it to stop. Everyone looked at me, they think I’m crazy. Maybe they’re right. Doesn’t matter now, I don’t work there anymore. Too loud, no privacy. Too many voices yelling for help. I-“ Audio becomes too distorted to hear anymore. Audio recordings dated Nov. 8th – Nov. 12th are all corrupted, but the last few play fine (mostly). What lies on them is chilling. Nov.13th, 2013
“Whispers turn to talking, talking turns to yelling, yelling turns to screaming. How can everyone just ignore this! I can’t be the only one! I can’t! Screaming permeates through the air, corrupting everything. Nowhere is safe, nowhere is quiet. My mind feels like it’s going to be torn apart, yet sanity tries to fight back. It won’t win. It won’t win. It won’t win! They just KEEP screaming!”
Sobbing is heard.
“Just want it to go away, to end. Doctor thinks I should be rehabilitated, maybe he’s right. But can they cure this? Can they save me? One more day. One more day.”
Nov. 14th, 2013
“HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME HELP ME-“ Audio is cut off.
Nov. 15th, 2013
“Had a realization today. All makes sense now. It’s so clear! How did I miss it? Yelling is so bad in public, right? That’s because the screaming isn’t in my head.” Silence.
“It’s in theirs.”
Nov. 16th, 2013
Recording opens with heavy breathing. “Tested it, I tested my revelation. Went out, at night, the screams wouldn’t be as loud. Not nearly. Found a nice little downtown area, night stalkers still out and about. I singled one out, I followed him. Took a nice walk. We came to an alley, I lunged, grabbed him. We tumbled into the alley. I bashed his skull in with a hammer.” Thomas begins to weep, although whether it’s joy or sorrow is hard to determine.
“Something miraculous happened. The screaming dimmed, a single voice removed. Through all the remaining screams, I heard something, something wondrous. A single whisper…
“Thank you.” Thomas begins laughing.
“Thank you! THANK YOU! That was the solution the whole time. Free the voices. Free myself. Free the voices…Free myself.”
Nov. 18th, 2013
“Yesterday, two more. Killed two more. A couple. They were cute together. But their deaths served a greater purpose. I freed their minds, and in doing so, removed two more tortured voices from their wretched prison. But I fear I will not be able to continue. I was seen. So careless, so foolish. They called the cops. I’m covered in blood. Left so much evidence. I don’t have much time. I can hear the sirens already.” He begins crying, as sirens become audible in the background. “But I can’t be imprisoned now, I still have so much work to do! Why just me? Why am I the only one who understands what needs to be done?” Banging can be heard, Thomas gasps. “Listen to me, listen VERY closely. Anyone who hears these tapes needs to know the truth. They NEED to know that we are shells, prisons, made to contain that which is pure and true. They MUST BE FREED!”
The door is heard bursting down, as officers yell for Thomas to put his hands behind his head. He continues screaming about how “THEY MUST BE FREED.” Officers continue yelling, one mentioning that Thomas has a weapon. Footsteps are heard, as well as a primal scream. Gunfire. Something hitting the ground. The officers are heard talking on the radio. Footsteps come near the recorder. The audio cuts off.
Thomas was committed into the morgue a day later, dead from multiple gunshots wounds to the torso and head. Officers hope to use the evidence found in these recordings to deal with another string of homicides, each kill reported to be “destruction” of the victim’s skull.