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Just as he was about to turn the sound off, he realised that he could hear something else. Something just behind the static, something that sounded like a voice. He glanced around at the windows, still alone, then adjusted the volume and started the file over again. Static, but just behind it, it was there and he could hear it, but not well enough. He plugged his memory card into the machine and copied the file to it, then put the same memory card into his audio/video computer and transferred the file there.
Once it was loaded onto the second machine, he started up his sound program and loaded the file into that. He played the file and heard the static once again. He clicked the button labeled 'Noise Reduction' and the static started to fade. He experimented with different pitches to clarify the voice in the background, and after a few minutes he could hear it better than before. It was a voice for sure, but it was garbled. He clicked the button labeled 'Reverse' and the file started at the end and played backwards. This time the voice was making real words, but it might as well have been jibberish. Whatever language it was, he had never heard it before.
His best guess was Latin, so he copied down the words he thought he could best make out and entered them into a translator. Most of them came up with no translation, but one of them did. 'Daemonis' was the word, and he wasn't the least surprised to find that it meant demon. He sat back and lit a cigarette wondering if this could be the 'something big'. He played the clip over and over until he couldn't focus on it anymore. The clock on the computer read 3:30 am and he decided it was time to sleep. His brother was pretty good with Latin, he could call him in the morning.
Only an hour had passed when he was awakened by a sound that was coming from the computer room. He walked through the house carrying a bat and trying not to make a sound. He was prepared to give whoever was messing with his computers a concussion. He tried not to breath as he neared the door, stepping as lightly as he could. From the other side of the door it sounded as if all of his machines were running. He edged closer to the door, bat raised above his head, ready to strike. His hand found the knob and he pushed the door open. He brought the bat down with enough force to kill somebody, had there been anyone there. The bat, however, fell through empty space and crashed into the floor. The room was dark, empty, silent. No one was there, but someone had been, that much he was sure of.
He turned on the light and sat at his audio/video computer, opened his email and began to type. He had to get the file to his brother, if someone was after it, there was no way he could wait until morning. He was brief with his explanation, mentioning that he had come across a sound file that he couldn't translate and that others might want to get their hands on it, too. He ended the email with 'This could be something big'. He attached the file and clicked 'Send'. He turned off the computer and stood up, giving one more look around before he turned out the lights. He walked to the door, picked up his bat, and sat in the corner. He would stand guard that night and club anyone else who tried to get in.
He opened his eyes into the blinding sun, suddenly aware that he had fallen asleep. He stood up, still clutching the bat, and checked all of the machines before checking the rest of the house. He kicked himself for not staying awake, but after he was sure everything was ok, he let it go. He went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of day old coffee, gagging as he swallowed it in one gulp. He was starting to feel a little better, and a little foolish, too.
He went back into the computer room and found his cigarettes sitting next to the computer he had used for his email the night before. He sat down, lit one, and checked to see if there was a response from his brother. There wasn't. He tried to call him on his cell phone but only got the voicemail. There was nothing else he could accomplish by himself, no files he could check, nothing he could translate without his brother. The only thing left to do was listen. He listened to the file over and over again all day, only stopping to check the windows to make sure there was no one out there.
As he lay in bed that night, the feeling of unease came over him. Someone was in his house again, he knew it. This time he would catch the son of a bitch and crack his skull. He leapt from his bed, grabbing his bat again, and rushed from his room to the computer room. As he neared the door he could see light coming from the other side, and he could hear the demon file playing on, what sounded like, all of his computers. Once again he raised the bat, found the door knob, and pushed it open ready to strike. The bat fell to the floor, his eyes widened, his mouth hung open. All five computers were on, but the light he saw had complete independence from them.The room itself seemed to issue the swirling sea of light, color, and sound.
He rushed to the corner where he kept his tripod and set up his video camera. He turned it on, pressed record, and gave a brief introduction into it, trying to yell over the static-covered voice. He pointed the camera towards the lights and walked into the swirling aura. He looked from one computer to the next and positioned himself in front of the new one, staring into the screen that mimicked the lights in the room. The swirling image was bright, beautiful, welcoming. He wondered if it was some sort of screen saver. If it was, it was unlike any other he had ever seen. His eyes began to water, he bent to wipe them when a voice echoed throughout the room in nothing more than a whisper.
“no.........watch.......”
The pressure was building in his head, but he did as he was told. The lights on the screen became more erratic as did the lights above his head. His eyes felt like they would burst if he didn't cover them, and a warm trickle of blood ran from his ear down his neck. He raised his hands to shield his face from the show that was becoming more painful by the second. His hands, however, as if acting by themselves reached his eyes and pinched tight on the thin flaps of skin that made his eyelids. He roared in pain as he stretched his own eyelids, but he couldn't stop. As the skin pulled tighter he could feel it begin to rip. With every tiny jerk there was a small popping sound. His roar turned into a cry of agony as he pulled one final time, tearing his eyelids from his face. The trickle of blood became a stream as his eardrums burst, and he howled in pain and terror.
The lights that danced above him just minutes before, now fell in tiny particles burning his skin wherever they touched. He raised his head to let out a moan and the particles fell into his eyes scorching them. He howled one more time and the voice, now in his head, came back to him.
“watch.......” He lowered his face back to the screen to see the swirling lights. He was so entranced by the show on the monitor that he no longer flinched as the particles seered into his flesh. He could feel his heart beating in time with the lights, as they sped up, so did his pulse. They moved faster and faster, more erratic with each second. Faster and faster, and faster, and stopped. The computers turned off, the lights and sounds went away, and Will Turner lay on the floor dead, forever staring into nothingness.
The police found him three days later. The official report stated a heart attack as the cause of death. An investigation is ongoing, headed by Officer Dan Turner, brother of Will. The computers are now evidence. The video, which is now evidence also, showed Will standing in front of the camera in a darkened, quiet room, yelling that he hoped the camera could record all the noise and light. It went on to show him sitting in the middle of the room staring at one of the computers as if in a trance, and slowly tearing his own eyelids off. He sits still for a full five minutes before falling over dead. The camera, for no reason anyone could see, shut off right after.
Dan hadn't received his email until he returned from a weekend camping trip. By then his brother was already dead. The file has been forwarded to a sound technician for analysis, and to three language professors at three different colleges. The police hope that with the help of the lab, the professors, and the students assisting them, they might find what caused Will to die in such a way, and maybe uncover 'something big'.
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