Night Society by Ambrose Ibsen

Author:Ambrose Ibsen [Ibsen, Ambrose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-10-08T07:00:00+00:00

13

They found themselves meeting once again in the Tim Horton's parking lot. The bright streetlights that surrounded the building were a comfort; when standing in the whitish glow, they could almost convince themselves that they were safe, beyond the reach of any night-borne creature.

“It's funny,” mumbled Jim, kicking the tires of his Caprice, “I used to like the night-time.”

Russell was still clutching his phone. He hadn't been able to let go of it since he'd spoken to Mike and agreed to meet at the coffee shop. His state had improved some since that phone call—though not substantially. Though he'd been away from his apartment for the better part of an hour, the fright in his blood remained fresh, and his every sentence was plagued by a stutter. “M-me, too,” he confided. “I've always b-been a night owl. Now I c-can't wait for the daylight. For that thing to go away.”

From the hood of his car, Mike cleared his throat. “Russell, you said that the guy who uploaded that mp3 got back to you, right? What'd he say?”

Russell nodded. He hadn't been clear over the phone—hadn't been able to string together the words just then. Now that he had some distance from the situation, and some company, he revealed to the others what the torrent user had told him in their exchange. “The guy basically s-said that it's fake. A recording he made for fun. I g-guess he's into audio dramas or something. It was his girlfriend we heard.”

Before Russell could even finish, Jim began to curse. “Bullshit. What a fucking load.” Approaching Russell with his head cocked to one side, he continued. “After the shit we've been seeing, you really believe that? That the guy who made that audio didn't curse us with something? What else did he say, huh? What else?”

“Did he mention anything else, Russell? ” asked Mike. “Any other details? If what you say is true, and the audio is really a fake, then...”

Russell finished his thought. “Why is she following us? I-I've been wondering the same thing. But I'm inclined to b-believe what the guy said. He had a website all set up for this murder mystery thing he'd recorded. I don't think he was b-bluffing.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair, scratched at his scalp so hard that he nearly drew blood. “Nah. Nah, this is some next-level bullshit here, I promise you that. No way in hell this is fake. He's... he's probably just playing dumb, when in reality he's a fuckin' voodoo priest or some shit. Probably cast a spell on whoever listens to that audio. Or he's a Satanist, you know? Did some kinda... some kinda human sacrifice and now we're being deceived by the Devil.”

“Jesus, would you calm down?” Mike ruminated on this new information for a time, pacing between the other two. “OK, the audio's fake, then. Even if it isn't, we'd have a hell of a time proving otherwise. It's not like we can ask this anonymous dude for his address and get a look at his recording setup.

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