LOST FREQUENCY - PART 2

 

Fighting back the fear gnawing at his insides, Antoine quickened his pace, determined to finish his rounds and get out of the suffocating confines of the building. But as he reached the midway point of his patrol, something caught his eye-a flicker of movement in the darkness ahead. At the end of the corridor where light didn't quite reach.

Heart pounding in his chest, Antoine hesitated for a moment before steeling himself and pressing forward. As he drew closer, the shadows seemed to coalesce into a shape; a figure standing at the end of the corridor. The dark shadowy figure looked as if it were coming from the wall - the dark corner of the wall. The more Antoine stared, the still the figure remained. Unmoving.

"Hello?" Antoine called out, his voice echoing off the walls. But there was no response, only the oppressive silence of the empty building. He didn't dare take his eyes off the strange shadow.

With trembling hands, Antoine reached for his radio, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. "Rob? Fred? Can you hear me?" he pleaded, his voice desperate.

But all that greeted Antoine was a continuous buzz of static, the oppressive silence extending endlessly. And as Antoine stood there, alone in the darkness, staring at a form resembling a human figure, yet only half-visible as if melded into the wall. Slowly, he began to retreat.

***

As he reached the stairway door, a mere few feet from where he stood, urgency pulsated through his veins like an electric current. Without hesitation, he pivoted, seizing the door handle with fervour, wrenching it open with a forceful tug, and dashed down the stairs, his heart pounding a frenetic rhythm in his chest. He dared not glance back, consumed by an instinctual need to escape, each step carrying him further from whatever unseen terror lurked behind.

His breath hitched in his throat as he nearly stumbled on the last stair, but a surge of relief flooded his senses upon beholding the door emblazoned with bold, yellow numerals: 10. With trembling hands, he pushed it open, stepping onto the corridor of the 10th floor once again, a carbon copy of every other floor in the monolithic structure surrounding him.

The echo of the closing door reverberated through the hallway, followed by the chilling sound of his name carried on an unseen whisper. "Antoine!" The voice pierced the silence, disorienting him momentarily as he struggled to discern its origin, until a rough grip seized his shoulder, jolting him from his trance. A startled gasp nearly escaped his lips as he whirled around to find Rob's familiar face, a mixture of concern and understanding etched upon it.

"What the hell is happening?" Rob's gruff voice trembled with an undercurrent of panic, his eyes searching Antoine's for answers amidst the palpable tension hanging in the air.

Antoine's mind raced, grappling to make sense of the inexplicable events unfolding around them. "I... I'm not sure," he stammered, his own anxiety threatening to overwhelm him. "Did you see something?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the two friends stood on the threshold of a mystery neither could comprehend.

"That's just it," Rob said, his tone now a touch calmer though his agitation was clear. "I'm not sure what the fuck I saw." Antoine couldn't help but notice the flustered state of his colleague, despite Rob's efforts to maintain composure. Beads of sweat adorned his forehead, and dark patches marked his uniform under the strain of nerves. "Where's Fred?" Antoine asked once they both had a moment to catch their breath.

"On his floor, I'm guessing, but I haven't been able to reach him on the radio," Rob replied, his voice tense with worry.

"Okay, let's not panic," Antoine attempted to reassure, his own concern growing. "It's only been a few minutes. Let's go find him." He began to stride towards the lift, but quickly realised Rob wasn't following. "Hey, let's go. What are you waiting for?"

Rob closed the distance with a few long strides until he stood in front of Antoine. "What do you mean 'it's only been a few minutes'?" Rob asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "I haven't been able to reach him for the past two hours."

Antoine took a deep breath, trying to process this information. "I spoke to him before I started my round, not 20 minutes ago," he said, attempting to inject a note of levity. "Maybe he didn't respond to you because he doesn't like you."

Rob let out a scoff at the jest, the tension momentarily easing, as they both made their way to the lift, Antoine close behind, a small smile playing on his lips, masking his own growing unease.

***

As the lift doors creaked open on the 17th floor, bathed in an eerie half-light, Antoine and Rob exchanged a hesitant glance, their apprehension almost tangible in the stale air. The corridor stretched before them, a foreboding tunnel swallowed by shadows, punctuated only by the feeble flicker of two distant emergency lights, casting elongated silhouettes across the grimy walls. The corridor appeared significantly darker than those on Antoine's floors, as if they were nearing the lair of a demon. Both men exchanged bewildered glances but remained silent.

Antoine broke the uneasy silence, his voice betraying his fear. "Perhaps we should try reaching Fred on the radio again."

Rob's response was tinged with a note of desperation. "Or maybe we should just get the hell out of here. This isn't what we signed up for."

Antoine's brow furrowed with concern. "What about Fred? He could be in trouble. He might need our help."

"But what if it's too late?" Rob's tone was resolute. "I saw something, Antoine. Something... unnatural. I'm not risking my life for some fucked-up Twilight shit."

Before Antoine could argue further, a sudden metallic clang reverberated from the far end of the corridor, toward the direction of Fred's office, causing both men to freeze in place. Then, faint whispers emanated from one of their radios. They stood motionless, straining to catch any further sounds, but the air remained eerily silent.

"You heard that, right?" Antoine's voice wavered with unease, his youthful features etched with concern.

"I wish I hadn't," Rob muttered, his gaze darting nervously around the dimly lit hallway.

With resolve born of necessity, they pressed forward, their footsteps echoing hollowly against the linoleum floor. Rob cast furtive glances over his shoulder, half-expecting to glimpse a sinister presence lurking in the shadows, while Antoine forged ahead, his determination tempered by a gnawing sense of dread. They knew the way to Fred's office, and with every passing second, the urgency of their mission weighed heavier upon them, a silent reminder of the peril that lurked in the darkness.

***

Fred's office loomed before them, an imposing structure of wood and glass, but today it seemed to repel their efforts to enter. The door stood firm against Antoine's attempts to push it open, its resistance a tangible barrier to their progress. Frustration mounting, Antoine resorted to pounding on the door with all his might and calling out Fred's name, each strike echoing through the hallway like thunder in a silent storm.

Rob winced at the noise, his ears assaulted by the reverberating blows. "Here, move!" he commanded, his voice cutting through the noise. With a forceful shove, he pushed Antoine to the side, his larger frame positioning itself in front of the stubborn door. Determination etched into his features, Rob braced himself, summoning every ounce of strength as he prepared to break through the barrier.

Muscles tensed, Rob launched himself forward, his shoulder connecting with the unyielding wood with a resounding thud. Pain shot through his arm, a sharp reminder of the physical toll of their endeavour, but he refused to relent. Again and again, he hurled himself against the door, each impact sending shock waves through his body until, finally, with a splintering crack, the lock gave way, and the door swung open with a reluctant creak.

As relief washed over them, Antoine rushed to Rob's side, "You okay?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry as he surveyed the strain evident on Rob's face.

"I'll live," Rob replied, his tone casual despite the discomfort evident in his expression. Ignoring the ache in his shoulder, he brushed off Antoine's concern, his focus already shifting to the task at hand.

With a flick of the switch, the office was bathed in harsh fluorescent light, revealing a scene that made Antoine's stomach churn with unease. Dread crept through him as he took in the scene before them. It was then that Antoine wished they had never gained entry at all.

***

Fred's chair was now occupied by a figure that bore a haunting resemblance to Fred himself, adorned in his uniform, sporting his prized golden Tag Heuer watch, and donning the immaculately polished Nitehawk army boots. However, any semblance of Fred's familiar visage was marred by the jarring transformation the figure had undergone. The once vibrant Fred appeared aged beyond recognition, with deep wrinkles etched into his skin and his teeth ominously protruding from his mouth as if seeking escape. Yet, it was the eyes that seized Antoine's attention, eyes that held a harrowing combination of fear and agony, etching a memory that would haunt him forever.

Antoine found himself inexplicably drawn toward the slumped figure, his steps propelled by a morbid curiosity. It was only when Rob's hand clasped onto his own, pulling him back with a sense of urgency, that he snapped out of his trance-like state.

"What in God's name..." Antoine's voice trailed off, still staring at Fred's decomposed body, a mix of disbelief and dread hanging heavy in the air. The unnerving sight before them seemed to defy all logic and reason, leaving both men grasping for an explanation that eluded them.

As if the air itself had shivered in response to Antoine's unspoken enquiry, a sudden movement rippled through Fred's motionless body, casting ripples of unease across the room. Antoine and Rob, caught off guard, jerked back instinctively, their senses alerting them to an unseen threat lurking within the stillness. The faint scent of decay hung heavy in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of fear as they edged closer to the safety of the corridor.

Despite the primal urge to flee, an eerie fascination rooted them to the spot, their senses held captive by the unfolding horror. The room echoed with the unsettling noise of bones shifting and sinews stretching as the entity within Fred strained against its fleshy prison. Antoine's skin prickled with a sense of impending doom, while Rob's breath hitched in his throat, the taste of dread coating his tongue.

The sight before them was a grotesque ensemble of agony and terror. Fred's once lifeless body contorted unnaturally, every movement a grotesque dance of suffering. The sound of gnashing, like the gnawing of a starving beast, echoed through the room, a visceral assault on their ears that made them doubt their sanity. In a climactic crescendo of horror, the shadowy entity burst forth from Fred's now vacant shell, its form an amorphous mass of darkness devoid of any recognisable features. Yet, as it turned its attention to Antoine and Rob, there seemed to be an unsettling aura of satisfaction emanating from it—a perverse, twisted smile that chilled Antoine to the core.

With a surge of adrenaline, Antoine propelled Rob towards the nearest exit, his voice barely a whisper as he urged his friend to flee. "Run," he implored, the urgency in his tone a silent testament to the imminent danger that lurked behind them. The sensation of impending doom hung heavy in the air as they fled, their footsteps echoing in the empty corridor, each one a desperate plea for salvation.

Antoine's heart raced as he turned around and watched the creature's attention shift away from them. Relief washed over him like a cool breeze on a hot day. The stench of death hung heavy in the air as the creature returned to its macabre feast on Fred's mangled body, its movements devoid of any empathy. Antoine couldn't tear his eyes away, the sight searing into his memory like a brand.

Stepping out into the night air, Rob's hands trembled as he dialled the emergency number. Each press of the keypad felt like a frantic drumbeat in the stillness. His voice quivered as he recounted the horrors they had witnessed, the words tumbling out in a rush of fear and disbelief.

Before long, the tranquil street transformed into a flurry of flashing lights as police vehicles swarmed the area. Rob experienced a mix of relief and anxiety as he saw the authorities arrive. Hours seemed to drag on painfully, each moment weighed down by relentless interrogation.

Under the harsh glare of interrogation, their words felt inadequate, like feeble attempts to grasp the unimaginable. Each question dragged them deeper into the nightmare, their voices echoing with the surrealism of their ordeal. It was as though they were trapped in a waking dream, unable to escape the horror that had become their reality.

After what seemed like endless hours of questioning, the officers reluctantly released them, with a terse reminder to remain available for further interrogation if necessary. Exhausted and emotionally drained, they trudged home, relief mingling with a lingering sense of unease that clung to them like a shroud.

Meanwhile, Antoine returned to his house in the early hours, the weight of fatigue evident in every footstep as he entered the familiar sanctuary of his home. The faint sounds of someone showering greeted him, indicating that Amber was already up and about.

With heavy steps, Antoine made his way to the bedroom, his body sinking gratefully into the welcoming embrace of the bed. Closing his eyes, he sought refuge in the familiar warmth of his surroundings. Yet, despite the comfort of the soft covers, his mind was consumed by the vivid recollection of the night's events, each detail etched into his consciousness like a haunting nightmare.

Antoine remained in a daze, lost in the chaos of his thoughts, until a gentle touch on his shoulder startled him back to the present. It was Amber, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. He flinched slightly, his reflexes betraying his inner turmoil, but as he turned to meet her gaze, her familiar face brought a sense of comfort.

"What's up?" Amber's voice was soft, her eyes probing yet understanding. Antoine didn't respond immediately. Instead, he shifted against the headboard, wordlessly pulling her into his embrace. At first, Amber tensed, but gradually, she yielded to his hold, recognising the unspoken need for solace.

They remained intertwined, finding solace in the silence that enveloped them. Amber's comforting embrace offered a respite from the chaos in Antoine's mind, her silent support a balm to his weary soul.

Time seemed to lose its meaning as they held each other, until exhaustion finally claimed Antoine, pulling him into the oblivion of sleep. When he awoke, the warmth of Amber's body was conspicuously absent, replaced by the distant murmur of her voice from the next room.

With a groan, Antoine forced himself upright, every movement a struggle against the weight of fatigue that still gripped him. Each step to the bathroom felt like a marathon, his body protesting with every laboured movement.

As he checked his phone for any updates, a wave of disappointment washed over him at the absence of messages from Rob or the police. The silence echoed the unanswered questions plaguing his mind, amplifying his unease.

As he continued his brief journey to the bathroom, his mind replayed the horrifying encounter with the shadowy creature that had mercilessly taken Fred's life. What was that thing? Was it a harbinger of an invasion? The questions swirled incessantly, fear gripping his thoughts.

As he stood in the quiet of the bathroom, the porcelain cool against his skin, he felt his hands quiver with an inner turmoil he couldn't contain. Each tremor betrayed the struggle he fought to keep buried within. His breath hitched as he tried to steady his hands, but they danced with a rhythm of their own, refusing his command. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, seeking solace in the darkness behind his lids, and drew in a slow breath, hoping to calm the storm raging within.

The air around him was heavy with the scent of soap. He could hear the distant hum of pipes, the only sound breaking the silence. With each exhale, he felt the tension ease slightly, his mind focusing on the rhythm of his breath. But before he could find refuge in the stillness, a sudden familiar crackle shattered the peace, jolting him back to reality.

His heart raced in his chest, its frantic beat echoing in his ears. He strained to pinpoint the origin of the disturbance, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with unease. Hadn't he turned off the radio? Anxiety gripped him as the radio crackled to life once more, its eerie static permeating the air inexplicably. Following the static, there was something else. Another sound emerged barely audible; a faint whisper. Hastily finishing his task, he dashed back to the bedroom, his hand instinctively reaching for his belt holster resting atop his uniform on the armchair.

Snatching up the radio, he examined it frantically, confirming that it was indeed switched off. His heart leapt to his throat and a creeping sense of unease threatened to overwhelm him. With a shaky hand, he tossed the radio back onto the armchair, desperate to distance himself from its unsettling presence. Determinedly, he turned back towards the door. But as he moved, a chill swept over him, the crackle of static piercing the air once more.

This time, however, it carried a voice—an all too familiar voice that momentarily made him choke on his own breath. Fred's voice, haunting and distinct, seemed to emerge from thin air, saturating the room with its eerie echo. Yet, according to Antoine's recollection, Fred's voice once resonated through the radio with assurance, joviality, and vigour. However, on this occasion, Fred's tone was subdued and languid, each word uttered as if time were of no consequence.

"Hey buddy, you there?" Fred's voice sliced through the silence, a haunting reminder of camaraderie past. Each word lingered, weaving through the air like wisps of smoke. "Don't forget. You still owe me that beer," the voice teased, a soft chuckle trailing off into an eerie whisper, like a secret shared between shadows. Dread clutched at Antoine's heart, a sickening realisation dawning upon him. The boundary between the living and the dead blurred, and he stood frozen, confronted with the horrifying truth that perhaps Fred's demise was not the end, but merely the beginning of something far more sinister.