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[FICTION] Tales from Port Astor | Whispers 8 (A Busy Night)

 "Hello caller, you're on the air..."


    "Look, a lot has gone down, but I need you to focus. We came here to do a job, and we've done pretty good given the circumstances! The others, well, they weren't as lucky, but we were! What happened? Lemme thing. We came in, all five of us, or was it four? Doesn't matter. We'd all been hired separately, and told to show up at the old place to 'turn it off'. Whatever the hell that means. The place was part of the old shipyards used in World War Two, but looked like some sort of animal on life support; a body of concrete with a thousand needles and tubes of steel coming out of it. 

    The money was worth it, though. I just ran, and ran-- I had to. I saw a light up ahead, and just had to go for it. As soon as I cleared it, I heard it close behind me-- was there someone else there? It doesn't matter. I just got in my car, and fuckin' got the hell outta there. The money was worth it. It was."


    "Thank you, caller..."


    "...It looks like we have another. Hello caller, you're one the air..."


    "THAT RATFUCKER SON OF A BITCH! He locked us down here, to save his own sorry ass! It, whatever the hell it is, chased us after getting that one lady with the hair. God almighty, it was just a pop'n'splash, like a damned water balloon."


    "I'll kill that coward, I swear to God I will. This door, it's one of them old hatches, makes sense with whatever they had brewing in these vats. There can't be only one way in or out, they just wouldn't have built it that way. I'll find another way, or make one, and then-- what was that?"


    "Thank you, caller..."


    "Oh my, go ahead, caller..."


    [The sound of heavy breathing.]

    "Oh god, oh my god."

    [The sound of muzzled cries as rough and scratchy breathing is heard somewhere. A moment of silence as heavy steps sound like they are heading away.]

    "They just said 'turn it off', but they didn't... They didn't say what that meant. They didn't say who. How long have they been down here, just... in the dark? They're so... gone, a body rotted, and they just keep going. They only see in red light, and the dark beyond. It's awf--"

    [A loud click sounds over the speaker, and a distorted blare-like alarm.]

    "Oh no, no no no n-!"


    "...Caller?"


    "There came from Crete for the third time the collectors of the tribute."

    [Wet vacuum breathing, gurgling.]

    "These young men and women, on being brought to Crete, were destroyed by the Minotaur."

    [Mechanical exhalation.]

    "A mangled form and hybrid birth of monstrous shape."

    "...?"

    "Wherefore, Theseus, hast thou not yet come?"


    "...Thank you, callers."

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