FREQUENCY 106.6
EVIDENCE: AUDIO FILE – JEREMY SCOTT
(Recovered from a tape recorder in Apartment 4C)
TAPE 1
My name's Jeremy Scott.
If you're hearing this in some evidence room, then either I guess I fcked up… or it got out.
static-shhhh
Everything started with Daniel Harlow.
stutter
He walked into the station fully covered in blood-
He didn't run-
He didn't fight-
He Just sat in the interrogation chair and stared at me, like he was waiting for me to say something-
So I did-
static-shhhh
He seemed normal.
He wasn't wild, wasn't frothing, wasn't really shaking, he was just there.
"Why did you kill them?" I asked.
He blinked, he looked me in the eyes. "I didn't," he said.
"But you were found inside."
"Sigh….Yes."
"With the bodies?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make any sense."
He leaned forward. His cuffs scraped the metal table. That sound was loud and way too long.
"Please trust me… it was all in my head," he said, and his eyes were full of fear.
There was dead silence between us.
"Who put it there?"
He shivered.
"The…the..apartment behind the graveyard.", his voice was shaking.
"That abandoned complex?"
I clearly felt he's having a hard time to breath.
"Yes."
"What is in there?"
His eyes went somewhere past fear. Recognition.
"Like I said," he said. "They.. dug up."
"Who are they?"
He shook his head, slow.
"They don't come from below." He started scratching his face. Tore a bit of his skin. "They rise through resonance."
I said him that I could help him.
But he started crying, quietly.
"You have heard it too," he said.
I hadn't. Not yet.
TAPE 2
1980-
Whole colony dead in a night.
Official story: mass suicide.
Crime scene: Bleeding from the ears. Scratches deep inside. A few even burst their own eardrums.
One kid—his arm had something in it. Something carved.
106.
static-shhhhhh
I went to that abandoned building by myself. I didn't find anything haunted. It was empty, just full of rubbles, almost like it lost its soul.
Dust everywhere. Wallpaper peeling. Ceiling tiles caved in.
Nothing.
I checked every room. I was about to leave, and suddenly I noticed a door. I swear it hadn't been there before.
Inside - an old radio. Analog. The dust around it was untouched, except the dial. It was clean.
Underneath, written in dried, dark crimson streaks : 106.6.
Didn't touch it.
But the dial moved on it's own. Slowly.
94.8. A low buzz.
96.8. My ears started to ache.
98.4. My teeth rattled.
101.4. The air got heavy.
104.4. The walls felt like they were closing on me.
Then—106.6.
Pitch silence.
Not the usual kind. This was heavy, it felt suffocating to my ears and eyes.
Then - a breath came out of the speaker. Wet. Careful. Waiting.
I left.
I shouldn't have just walked away. I should've destroyed it. But I didn't. And it costed
stutter
TAPE 3
static-shhh
That night, the noise started. It was quiet, like a radio searching for a signal. Around two minutes. Then nothing.
My kitchen tap turned itself on. The water smelled like metal.
I turned it off. Tried to sleep.
Next morning, there was blood in my mouth. Not from my gums but from deeper. Thick and warm.
When I rinsed the sink, I found feathers stuck to the porcelain. Small. Black.
And I don't own a bird.
TAPE 4
I went to see Daniel again.
He came near the bars.
"You went there?" he asked.
I kept quiet.
"Did you hear it breathe?."
"It's nothing but a frequency," I told him. "Maybe someone is trying to mess with yo..."
He smiled. It looked like he was mocking me. "You think it's outside?" His voice dropped. "Can you unplug your bones Mr. Jeremy?."
He put his head on the floor then he tapped it slowly and it was getting faster and harder.
"It is coming," he screamed. "It was quiet for years."
He smashed his forehead into the concrete until his skull broke. Officers rushed in.
He just kept saying it, "Receiver. Receiver. Receiver."
He died before we could even do something.
His last look wasn't terror. It was relief.
TAPE 5
Mr. Johnathan is my neighbour. For some reason he kept listening to his radio today. There was no sound.
When I got close to it, my ears started to hurt like it's spreading beyond just my ears.
Yesterday Mr.Johnathan asked me, "It sounds clearer at night, isn't it?"
I never told anyone about my case or about those noises. But it seemed like he already knows everything
He smiled when I froze.
He said something but there was no sound. But I felt what he said. "In your head".
static-shhhh
TAPE 6
Stutter
static-shhhhh
I had a dream.
There was a party going on in the courtyard, I saw the apartment behind. There was music, laughter and kids running around.
I saw someone changing the station of the radio.
106.6.
The sound that came from it wasn't loud. The sound had layers, like someone is twisting metal underwater, it was cold.
People froze in mid laughter, like they saw the devil, next thing I saw is some people ripping of their eyeballs, some are thrashing their heads, some burned themselves.
The joy and laughter became terror and screams.
My eyes opened, I woke up. Felt something in my throat.
It moved.
A half dead crow forced it's way out of my mouth.
It looked at me. And then it stopped moving.
I shot it to be sure.
The smell of it lingered around for a while.
stutter
TAPE 7
static-shhh
My building started shaking last night. It wasn't an earthquake. It was shaking in sync. Like my apartment has a heartbeat.
I looked outside.
Mr. Jonathan and all my other neighbours were standing in front of the radio. Listening to 106.6.
I couldn't hear anything. I just saw them looking at the radio. They were trying to focus on something. They looked hollow. Suddenly they all looked at me.
I guess I am the one broadcasting now.
stutter
FINAL RECORDING
static-shhh
There were no colors in the sky today.
It was afternoon but it was dark, like the sky has been surrounded by death itself.
The streets were empty, no sign of life.
I blinked-
The streets were full.
There were people, I know them, I saw them, In my dream.
They were standing still.
Their mouth and their body was moving in sync.
They were not really walking.
With my every blink they closed the distance between me and them.
Felt like they were skipping frames from the reality.
They are right outside my apartment now, looking at me.
Saw Mr. Jonathan in there as well.
He was also in sync.
They turned the radio on.
This time it wasn't quite.
I can hear the noise.
The static noise it's making isn't really loud.
The sound had a soul.
It was precise and focused.
It was like a needle piercing my skulls through my ear drums.
Now I understand.
The frequency doesn't control you.
It's like a parasite.
It enters into your body through the frequency with every beat it gets into your nerves until your body frequency matches it.
And then you become the host.
Basically the station.
I guess I know a way to stop it.
I just have to destroy the receiver.
Took some nails
Let's take it and.
If I just pierce it deeper-
Past my ear drums
Into the canal..(Arghhh)
I.. guess the resonance stopped.
They are about to come inside-
I wonder what I have become now.
Put my fingers on my kneck, nothing found.
Can't feel my heartbeat.
Tried to pray for the last time but my words….are hollow.
What is this world?
Is it hell?
(THUD-KRAK)
If anyone finds this—
Do not tune(Stutter)
(static-shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)
[END OF RECORDING]
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Two weeks have passed after the incident.
Jeremy Scott went missing.
Police went to investigate and they found 10 bodies in the apartment.
All were decapitated.
Bodies had bullet marks and clean axe strike.
The whole apartment was a mess.
No radio were found.
Police found a tape recorder in his room.
They took the evidence and went towards the city.
While driving toward New York, one officer turned on the car radio.
Static.
The dial moved slowly.
94.8
96.8
98.4
101.4
104.4
106.6.
A song began playing from The Cranberries.
"In your head… in your head… zombie… zombie…"
The officer frowned.
"Did you change that?"
"No."
Under the music—
Very faint—
There was something else.
A second layer.
Breathing.
The volume increased on its own.
The transmission had resumed.
The end