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Under Your Bed (Invite Only); Your closet, too.
Topic Started: Jul 19 2008, 03:32 PM (387 Views)
Leventa
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"Our world has been mapped, the oceans charted, animals and plants named and indexed... or so we believe. But there are still places grownups forget they've been and it is children who remind us that there are creatures that lurk in the dark, and, under the bed."

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Walking inside her home and tossing her car keys down onto the kitchen counter, Valerie was happy to be home. Working nights was rough on Valerie and her son Danny, as it required her to leave him at night while he slept, but it was the best paying job she could get on her own right now. Flicking off the tape recorder on the counter as she walked deeper into the house, the first place she headed(as always) was Danny's room, wanting to check on him. The sun was only just now starting to rise, and he'd have to get up for school soon.

Walking down the hall, she was surprised to see that Danny's bedroom door was closed. He never closed it. They had a deal to leave it cracked so that the nightlight in the hallway would leave him some light to see by in case he had to get out of bed for the bathroom or a drink. Opening the door, Valerie stepped inside as queerly overwhelming sense of dread and panic began to seize her.

Danny wasn't in his bed. The bed itself was all but bare, the covers having been pulled off so that they now stuck out from underneath the bed in a rumpled pile. “Danny?” Going over to the bed and getting down on her hands and knees, she began to tug at the blankets, hardly noticing how wet and sticky they were in her hands. Wrenching and pulling, she tossed the sheets to the side and leaned down under the bed. “Danny?!” Eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, she began to scream. Scream louder than she had in her entire life, but didn't even hear herself, focused as she was on what precious little remained of Danny.

Edited by Leventa, Jul 19 2008, 08:05 PM.
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Leventa
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“Good lord,” Malcolm muttered to himself as he stepped into the child's bedroom. Former child. It helped not to think of all that meat as having been a living, breathing person. A detective with the Domino PD, it was his job and duty to examine these sorts of things. But that didn't mean he had to like it. Stepping back outside of the room, he was more than a little glad for the seemingly fresher air out in the hallway. Not looking back inside, Malcolm went to speak with a nearby officer while forensics finished up inside the room.

“The mother,” Malcolm said to the somewhat portly officer standing across from him with a notepad in his chubby hands, “was she injured?”

The officer, a man named Kiziki according to his uniform, gave a short bark of a scoff. “It was hard to tell with how much blood she had on her, but I don't think so. Not physically anyways.”

“Who called the police?”

Kiziki flipped through the notepad. “Uh...the neighbors. Heard her screaming like a banshee, called us to come check it out. When we got here things had quieted down. It took us a couple minutes to find her because she was...you know.”

“No, I don't.” Malcolm said dryly.

Kiziki frowned. “She was under the bed with the kid. Maybe trying to put him back together, I don't know. I didn't exactly take a mental Polaroid if ya know what I mean.”

“Hmm. Has she said anything yet?”

“Stuff...”

Malcolm quirked an eyebrow. “Anything that makes sense?”

“Definitely not. Do you think she did it?”

Malcolm frowned and turned slightly, looking back over his shoulder at the entrance to child's room. Former child, right. “I don't know. Was there a weapon?”

“Not that I saw, Sir.”

“Well then, how many mothers do you know that can rip their child apart with their bare hands?”

“In this town?”

Now it was Malcolm's turn to scoff. “Yeah, but from what he neighbors say she goes to work almost every night, doesn't she? We'll need to call her office and figure out if she has a good alibi or not.” Malcolm started to turn away to walk outside of the residence, but Kiziki stopped him.

“Oh, uh, something else sir. There was a tape recorder we found on the kitchen counter there. From what's on the tape, it seems like maybe she left it on while she was gone to listen to later, maybe make sure her kid wasn't doing anything he ought naught to be doing while she wasn't home at night.”

“...make sure it gets to the lab.”

Walking outside, Malcolm found the warm summer air to be little relief from the things he'd seen in that room, or the many child's rooms he'd seen just like it over the last couple months. Something or somebody was preying upon the children of Domino, and every body had been found either under the bed or inside their closet in various states of... Shaking his head, Malcolm pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. They had a tape now, and maybe there would be something on it.

For the first time since all of this started, they finally had something more to work with other than blood and shadows.
Edited by Leventa, Jul 19 2008, 09:31 PM.
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Leventa
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The very next day, Malcolm found himself inside the DPD Forensics Sound Lab. The room was filled with pricey looking equipment that Malcolm couldn't even hope to recognizing. Standing quietly behind on of the sound technicians chairs while they worked at a computer screen, Malcolm was more than a little eager to learn what information might be on that tape. Several dead bodies and more than one parent covered in the residual gore of their child was more than enough for him, and infinately frustrating. Never a print or a trace.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the tech turned around to address Malcolm and said, “Ok, so the tape is pretty much what you'd expect.” Turning back to the computer he brought up a folder of sound files and cycled through several of them, causing them to play over the many speakers inside the room. “The kid stays in bed for the whole night from what I can tell, never gets out to go to the bathroom or anything like that. At about 12:00am you can hear a click.” The tech replayed part of the tape on a loup, clearly amplified to catch a soft clicking noise in the background.

“And that would be?” Malcolm questioned.

“The bedroom door closing. Either the kid closed it, or somebody else did. Other than that one sound, I don't hear anything else. No doors opening, no windows being broken into or opened. Nothing.” Frowning, the technician's mouse pointer hovered over a particular file, as if he was afraid to play it. “From here on out it gets...strange.” Clicking it, the crackling sound file poured out into the room through the speakers.

At first there was nothing, then, extremely faint even with all of the amplification, was a sound that Malcolm couldn't quite make out. Looped over and over again, it sounded like a whisper, but not in any language he'd ever heard. Then the screaming started. It wasn't long. The surprised shout of a child, then far more painful sounds.

“Enough,” Malcolm grumbled.

The technician complied and cut the loop. “There is something else. After the...the screaming, I caught a lot of static on the tape. Sounded like wind going over the microphone, but...”

“But?”

“I think it's breathing.”

Malcolm felt a shiver crawl up the base of his spine. “Is any of this useful? Did you catch anything that could help us?”

“I don't think this will help you, but...I gotta say, I've never been more freaked out over something that's been brought in here. I ran everything through an audio spectrograph looking for anything I missed, and something showed up that shouldn't be there.”

Bringing up a program, the tech played a portion of the tape while pretty blue lines of color danced across the screen. At first it seemed totally random to Malcolm, but then he noticed the lines taking shape and form until, from the top of the screen, a dark hand reached out before fading back into the random lines of noise.

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“Jesus...when does this show up in the tape?”

The tech, turning around to look Malcolm in the eyes and said, “The breathing.”

Edited by Leventa, Jul 19 2008, 09:56 PM.
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