I rolled some good old fashioned d10s and 20s and came up with a mash-up of Occult Detective/Haunted House including a disturbing diary and a troublesome dog.
Thanks Chuck for setting this diabolical machine in motion.
Transcript of Tape Found in Stomach Mailed to
Governor’s Residence
By
Matthew J. Hockey
Investigator: Tape
four. Side two. July eighth. Barbara
when you come to type this up can you double line space and indent properly
thank you. On approach to the site now. Welcome to Deerwater. An affluent, heavily white, domestically
stable, older-aged, low-density community. That ain’t how they put it on the
brochures but it’s what it is – all the buildings look like retirement
complexes – sort of place I’d stash my own folks if I could afford it haha…
Barbara can you remind me to get Mother some flowers - Jesus there’s missing dog
posters taped to everything, must be what counts for big news in this valley. I’m out here to check on Crowheel house again.
I can feel it as I get closer - fever heat baking out of the bricks - I’m at
the head of the driveway and my lizard brain’s going batshit in back there.
Disembodied voice (speaker does not appear to
notice): Somethingisnotrightsomethingisnotright-somethingisnotrightsomethingisnotrightsomethingisnotrightsomethingisnotrightsomethingisnot…
Investigator: One
of the Big Bads came through here a decade previous, I wasn’t around for that
but I didn’t need to be, you know what you’re looking for you can feel it in just
about everything. It’s all warped, stretched so far out it won’t snap back into
place and you can just about make out the shape of the hole where the thing
tore through. Feels like gritty fingers peeling at the ridges of your brain. I never can get used to that. I have to swing
by once a quarter on my rounds, make sure nothing nasty’s brewing. Reality’s so
weak around here it doesn’t take much for crazy stuff to take root. One time I
found a skull with fourteen eye sockets that spewed patches of pure colour out
of its neck valve… Sun’s high in the sky, hot even for this part of the country
and somehow there’s threads of ice between the gravel chips. If you listen
close you can hear it screaming when I tread on it.
Distant Screaming.
Investigator: Front hall. The temporal-spatial anomaly I
referenced (inaudible) has grown by what feels like… yes that’s half a metre.
I’ve laser measured the room and its ten feet from the front door to the inner
screen. Looking across it gives the sensation of looking into a well hundreds
of metres deep. Vertigo with no discernible source – sends the body into shock
response – chills, increased heart rate and the sensation of a presence you can’t
define. Classic haunted house syndrome. Only way is to go through.
Flies buzzing for exactly 4m32s (experts estimate over four million flies).
Investigator: ...of flesh-like protuberances – it looks as
though hundreds of snakes are copulating vertically up the wall. I’ve tried to
get a picture of it for the archive but it… uh resists. Over one hundred digital
and film photographs came out as scenes from my childhood where I was hurt or
sick or sad – there is no possibility that photographs were ever taken of these
events. Me finding my dead Grandfather for instance.
Investigator: Up the main staircase. Glanton and Stax have taken
to calling them the magical faraway stairs. The top landing is that of a
totally different house whenever you go up there. Sometime there are people up
there. Sometimes there aren’t. Stax claims that on one of his rounds he stepped
out onto a snowy plateau populated by Inuit who ran screaming in terror. Sometimes
he’s full of… well he talks big. Barbara you wanna leave that part out be my
guest.
Investigator: Today the stairs lead to a Victorian hothouse
stuffed with well-tended daffodils. Longer than the top of the house could ever
be and looking out onto a few acres of… holy fucking shit… I’m sorry Barbara I
know you don’t like to transcribe curses. The hothouse appears to be uh… under…
put it this way a big fucking shark just swam by the window – sorry again. Something’s
in here with me. I’m going back down… up…
Amplified voice: If
you can hear this transmission you are on your own. You are on your own. You
are alone. If you can hear this transmission you do not have long. You are
alone and they are coming.
Investigator: We might have a problem here. One of the panes
is smashed out of the dining room window. All the glass is on the inside
though. Strange. Something didn’t break out. Something broke in. Never seen it happen that way before. Don’t worry
Barbara I’ve got my gun. There’s something written in black there on the wall. It’s
in normal characters – kind of swimming around though – I’ll try it
phonetically – (Static interference).
Dog whining
Investigator: Good boy. Good dog. Come
here. Come on. Yes. Ok so I solved a couple of riddles here. I know what bust in
that window and well some nice old couple can take all their lost dog posters
down now. Oh can you hear that thumping Babs? That’s his tail he’s so happy.
Aren’t you boy? Yesh you are oh yesh you are. Little thin, little thirsty I reckon,
but he’s going to be just fine. There’s something on his head, looks like black
paint. Well I’m sure your Daddy will get you all cleaned up.
Investigator: Next scheduled check is August, I think Stax
pulled that one but I’ll review the roster when I get back. Nothing else to do
here I’m signing off.
Pocket noise 4m00s
Investigator: Look who I found!
Lawn-mower engine
cutting out
Dog Owner: Jumping Jesus and the merciful Mary. You found my Maxie. Holy... I’ve been so worried.
Here take this, it’s not a lot but it’s all I’ve got.
Investigator: No. No honestly. Seeing how happy you are will
do me just fine... Can I get a glass of water though?
Inaudible
conversation 2m02s
Dog owner: Hey! Hey mister! You left your doo-dad! Damn. Maxie
where you at? Let me get you inside. What’s gotten into you? It’s me dummy. Maxie?
God have mer…
Ripping noises 38m12s
Tape ends
