#when we got to 40% at halfway through the timer I thought ‘holy shit maybe’

[breqvendaai]

@cupcakesinfedoras and I have finally, FINALLY succeeded in the dragon’s end meta and I am [loud and intense screaming.mp3]

[razielwriter]

Lockdown - A short horror/thriller story

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 1.

M: So… It looks like we’re in here for the long haul…

(Pause)

M: I think I heard somewhere that, to avoid going crazy on submarines, sailors get themselves into routines. It’s been nearly two weeks since… Well, it couldn’t hurt, I guess.

M: I started out slow. Ease myself into it, you know? Having breakfast, getting in some exercise, checking the security monitors. Still nothing. Not even cats. And cats get fucking everywhere. You know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a pigeon? Fucking… ages man. I mean not ages, but like… It’s crazy.

M: I did find a rat, though. Found him in a box of shreddies. He kept making this horrible scratching noise. It’s okay though. I fucking hate shreddies. I’ve decided to name him Jason, for obvious reasons. He now lives in a little cell I managed to rig together. He seems happy. Still likes to bite me, bloody nuisance.

M: I started going through the boxes. Some of the stuff was… Weird. I’ll say it, it was weird. I mean, who packs a Furby? In an emergency bunker? I mean who looks at Gods mistake of a children’s toy and thinks “yes, this will get me through the end of the world”. Its fucking creepy, is what it is. I’ve left it in a corner, next to the toaster. If it turns around, I’m out.

M: And now I’m talking to you. Like you’re a person. Like you care about any of this. Like you won’t outlive me by a decade, assuming, you know, the electricity stays on and nothing springs a leak.

M: But… that’s it. That’s my day. Fucking bollocks, that.

~~~

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 9.

M: I decided to go exploring today. Started making a map of this place. Goes on forever. Found some cool shit, though. Greenhouse. Supply room. Hell, even found someone’s stash of porn. Truly, the essentials.

M: Coolest thing, though. I found a radio. Not one of the digital ones. Like, 80’s to 90’s shit. Looks like it was used to broadcast. Bit old school, but I think I can get it set up again. I’m hoping someone, out there, might have had the same idea. Maybe they’ll come rescue me.

M: Anyway, my day. Yes, that’s what you really want to know about. Um… Had breakfast, did exercise. Fed Jason. I swear, he’s getting fat. Picked out a book to read. “Lord of the Flies”, cheery I know. But it only seemed appropriate, given the circumstances.

(Sigh)

M: God, I sound like a dating profile. I mean, dating a computer wouldn’t be that bad but, I hate to say it, I just don’t think you’re my type. We can still be friends though. Get a pint from time to time, smile awkwardly at parties. Then you and your boyfriend will have a fight one night, and you’ll call, just wanting a friend, but we both know it’s more than that. We have one drunken night of passionate love making. But we never talk about it.

M: Ooh, that’s the timer. My steak and kidney pies ready.

~~~

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 15.

M: God, that Ralphs a nark. All that “… eyes that proclaimed no evil” shit. He’s so preachy. I bet, if he had access to the internet, he’d be just as “innocent” as every other boy his age. Then we’ll see who’s so golden.

(Chuckles)

M: Same as usual. Breakfast, exercise, security cameras, tended to the greenhouse. The potatoes are coming along nicely, and the sunflowers. I’m surprised. I thought they’d need more, you know, sunlight. But halogen will have to do. I can’t exactly go and clean the windows from the outside.

M: Then I went to feed Jason… I don’t know if I should call her that anymore. Turns out he is a she. And she had babies. Tiny little pink bodies, all squirming and squeaking. Their eyes aren’t even open. Never seen a baby rat before. They’re kind of gross, but also kind of cute.

M: Went to check on the radio for a few hours. Calm my nerves a bit. It’s not every day you become a dad to five little rat shaped testicles. Thought I heard something at around seven, but it turned out to be nothing. I think it was just, like, a World War Two radio play, or something. Shooting and shouting, you know the sort.

M: But that’s it for today. Now for some good old-fashioned alone time… As if I haven’t got anything else.

~~~

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 26.

M: Okay, lets get this shit over with.  Woke up a little earlier than I would have liked. Damn scratching. I think Jason might be getting some cell mates soon, if I find the culprit. Had breakfast, did exercise, all that good stuff. Fed Jason and the Ratgonauts. Their skin has gone darker, so that’s good… I think… I don’t actually know. God, I wish I could ask someone. Anyway, tended to the greenhouse. Then I went to check on the radio. And, fucking hell, that’s when the interesting shit kicked in.

M: I heard someone. Out there. I’m sure of it this time. I wrote down the words. Hold on… Mm…

(Paper rustling)

M: Fuck, where is it? AH! Here. The signal was a bit shit, so I didn’t get all of it, but this is what I’ve got.

M: To anyone out there… Please… Keep… My name is Sophie. I’m in… To anyone still out there, if anyone is still out there, I am here. I am still alive. But I don’t know how long I can last. Please, if you can hear me, my frequency is… That’s where it cut out.

M: I knew it. I fucking knew it! I knew I couldn’t be the only one left. And if I’m picking up on her signal, Sophie can’t be that far away! I guess I’ll have to keep flicking through the radio signals until I find her again. But I’m gonna make dinner first.

~~~

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 31.

M: She… She fucking ate them. I… I can’t…

(Pause)

M: It was normal. Breakfast, exercise, all that bollocks…

(Pause)

M: I thought it was quiet. I thought that was a bit weird. Usually, when its feeding time, Jason starts squeaking and running around… Fuck. Maybe I wasn’t feeding her enough. Maybe I needed to let her loose from time to time but… She ate them. They were gone when I looked in and I only realised when I found the tail… All five…

M: Anyway, yeah, did some gardening… Checked the radio… Nothing…

(Pause)

M: I don’t know why I’m fucking crying over rats. I kind of wanted to… But she’s the only other living thing here, except me…

~~~

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 39.

M: It’s quiet without the babies. Fucking little bastards waking me up at three in the morning with their scratching but...

(Pause)

M: Got breakfast, did exercise. It’s weird. Never thought I would have, like, muscle and shit. I’m more beer belly and pork scratchings. Who would have thought it?

M: My sunflowers are doing really well. Never thought I’d like courgettes, but, you know what? They’re not that bad.

M: I think Jason got out in the night. Or maybe it was someone else that ate the rest of my lasagne. Yeah I’m looking at you, baby eater.

M: The Furby woke up today. I was just making some coffee and it fucking laughed at me, this demonic screeching noise and wiggled its fucking ears. So I did what any other self-respecting person would do. Took it and chucked it at the wall. It broke. I still have no idea how it did that. Couldn’t find a battery or anything. Gives me the creeps just thinking about it.

M: That’s… that’s not the only thing though. Fuck, I really have been out here too long. I… well, I woke up at about 1 am. Nightmares, nothing new there. I went to get myself a drink and… I think I saw something. Outside. It was sort of like a shadow, but not really. Too solid for that. And… teeth. At least, I think they were teeth. They looked like teeth.

(Sigh)

M: Fuck, I need a drink. I found a bunch of booze in the back. I know I promised… but he’s gone now. Who cares about soberness anymore, right?

~~~

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 40.

M: The scratching. I think Jason’s getting kind of frustrated in the night. I keep waking up to the sound of scratching.

M: Ah… yeah, sorry. Day, yes. Um… Breakfast, exercise, feeding Jason. Sorry, I haven’t slept… at all, really. That damn scratching and… God, what was in those booze? Feels like my brain is being squeezed by an angry nun.

M: Anyway, that’s about…

(The radio is heard)

Prof S Taylor: Hello? Can anyone hear me?

M: What…? Holy shit… Um… Hello? I mean, fuck, yes! Me. I’m here! I can hear you!

Prof S Taylor: Oh my God. Finally. Hi.

M: Hello.

Prof S Taylor: I… Um… Right, no time for the gushy stuff. I’m Sophie. Professor Taylor, I should say, with the research team. Is Sargent Foster there?

M: Sargent Foster?

Prof S Taylor: You are in the bunker, right?

M: Yeah but, um, I’m not Foster and… Its just me here. No one else.

Prof S Taylor: What? Who are you, then? Name and rank, soldier.

M: Easy there, mate. I’m not a soldier. Its… It’s a little complicated.

Prof S Taylor: Whatever. We’ll talk about it more when I get there. You have supplies?

M: Yeah, sure. But not much.

Prof S Taylor: Fair enough. The higherups probably closed the whole valley in case... Has anyone attempted to contact you?

M: Nope. Only you so far.

Prof S Taylor: And its just you there? What happened to the others?

M: I… I have no idea. I thought you could tell me.

Prof S Taylor: Humm… Still, I’m on the other side of the valley. I’ll be stopping off halfway. There’s another bunker, there should be a few others there. I think their radios defective, though. Haven’t been able to get in contact. I should be with you by the end of Tuesday.

M: Wow, days still exist then? Wonder what else I’ve forgotten? Tell me, do people still shake hands anymore, or do we spit in each other’s general direction, or something?

Prof S Taylor: Oh, so you’re a comedian. That’s… something, I suppose. Listen, just sit tight. I’ll be there soon.

M: Okay. My names Matt by the way.

Prof S Taylor: That’s good to know. Nice to meet you Matt. I’ll be there soon.

(Radio is turned off)

M: … Wow. Just… Fucking wow… I should probably tidy up a bit.

~~~

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 45.

M: Okay, I’m sure somethings wrong now. Jason… She’s gone missing. And that… I saw it again. I… I fucking saw it! I know I did! I’m not going crazy, right? I can’t be?

M: Jason got out. I was looking for her and… The window. I saw it out the window. Its jaw was huge, large enough to eat a German shepherd whole. And its teeth were wet and glistening. It looked like… like a cartoon skull. No lips. No nose. Just black, rubbery skin pulled back over that massive jaw and tiny skull. And the body was thin. I could see every rib and organ through the skin. And skinny legs. The arms were fucking crazy, though. Like, long and muscly. I think it walked on them…

(The radio is heard)

Prof S Taylor: Matt? Matt, you there?

M: Shit. Ugh, yeah, yeah I’m here. Where are you?

Prof S Taylor: At the other bunker. Matt… I’m not gonna make it.

M: What do you mean?

Prof S Taylor: They… They’re all dead. And I know it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have trusted it to behave. I should have stopped it.

M: What? Sophie… Are you talking about the thing with the teeth? And the weird arms?

Prof S Taylor: You’ve seen it then. The Scratcher. That’s what the office wits liked calling it. Stupid name. But… I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry. My suggestion is get out while you can. I’ll stay here, draw it to me. That should buy you some time.

M: Sophie... How far away are you? I’m sure I could reach you…

Prof S Taylor: There’s no time for that. I can see it through the trees. It shouldn’t be long now.

M: No…

Prof S Taylor: Just… Promise me one thing. If you get out, find Roshni Laghari. She’s a teacher in London. She… Tell her I loved her to. I never told her, but I did. Will you do that for me Matt? Please?

M: Y-Yes. I’ll do that.

Prof S Taylor: Thank you Matt. Thank you.

(Radio is turned off)

M: … Shit. I should never have come here. I… I really shouldn’t have… Where’s my bag?

~~~

Recording date not found. Author Unknown. Located in the Chainwell Tor Research Facility Database. Log 98.

M: I hear him. I hear him. He whispers to me at night, like the prophecies of an angry God. But I have not lost my way yet. I see him for what he is. A pig’s head. And I am the flies. I am the flies.

M: I found her today. He threw her through the greenhouse glass. My Jason. Poor Jason. I’ll tell you something, though. She was tasty. Can of beans and some whisky. Got to be careful. Don’t have too much left…

M: For fuck sake will you quiet. I hear you. I hear you all the fucking time you grinning bastard. I hear you when I sleep. When I wake up. Stop… Stop laughing at me! How you like it if I did it to you?

(Proceeds to laugh for one minute and thirty-two seconds)

M: See, I laugh at you devil. Scum. See how you like it. Because I’m not opening that door. Not for anything. Not for…

M: No. You… You can’t say that. It was… It was an accident. IT WAS AN ACIDENT! I couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t my fault. If anything, it was yours. All your fault, poor, pathetic monster. You’re the reason! You’re the reason they’re dead, not me!

M: What… What’s that?

(Gun shots)

M: Ha, they’ve come for me. They’re here for me. Yes! Take that fucker!

(The door is blown)

M: Yes! Aw man, you have no idea how good it is-

(Gun shots)

Unknown: All clear. Witness neutralised. Send in the clean up team. And send in the roundup team outside.

 ~~~

 End of transcript. Report compiled by T. R. Fisher.

Professional recommendation that these files remained closed to public consumption for the foreseeable future under paragraph W, subsection 26 of the DPA of 1927.

Files not to be removed from The Vault without express permission, upon fear of grievous bodily harm or legal prosecution.