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Publisher: Grady Youngblood
- directed by Geoffrey Rogers
- Genre Drama
- star Brook Susan Parker
- 1 hours 55Minutes
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Together, let's build an Open Library for the World. Sponsor a Book About the Edition Investigator Logan McRae tackles another thankless case in MacBride's sharp and suspenseful fifth novel set in gritty Aberdeen, Scotland. Logan suddenly finds himself caught up in a brave new world of drug wars, prostitution rings, and gun-running courtesy of Aberdeen's oldest and most vicious crime lord. Edition Notes Genre Fiction Dewey Decimal Class 823/. 92 Library of Congress PR6113. A24 B57 2009, PS Pagination 517 p. ; Number of pages 517 Open Library OL24001645M ISBN 10 0312382642 ISBN 13 9780312382643 LC Control Number 2009021058 July 30, 2019 Edited by Clean Up Bot associate edition with work OL5844746W January 20, 2010 Created by ImportBot Imported from Library of Congress MARC record.
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I suppose it was only natural that those formerly incapable of communication would eventually be drawn to the internet. The formerly voiceless, if you will. No, I'm not talking about polar-wing political crackpots, or teenage atheists that have suddenly and effortlessly figured out how to fix the world. This isn't about scrambling over each other in a mad frenzy for the soapbox, shouting the loudest, and hoping that someone somewhere will give your drop in the ocean enough mental registry to generate an emotional response. It's about something darker, and much less comprehensible. About something so terrible and frightening that we as humans had confined it to our nightmares, our imaginations, and a laundry-list of conveniently labeled mental illnesses. About something that need not shout from the soapbox, for even a mere whisper is enough to captivate us, shake our internal fabric, and in time, shatter our very core. That said, I suppose I should start from the beginning. I typically visit my family once a month. It's a trip that affords me four hours (two up, two down) of unadulterated isolation. As a bonus, because my family lives in the middle of bumfuck, nowhere, I have the luxury of minimal to nonexistent traffic, and a scenic landscape provided by East Texas lake country. I've found it to be the perfect combination for horror stories, and each trip is accompanied by a mixture of horror podcasts and audiobooks. It's a bloated genre that is sparsely populated with quality, so it's not unusual for me to load several gigabytes of audio per trip onto my smartphone. The search tends to start two or three days before the drive. I start with my trusted sources, a select set of podcasts that are automatically downloaded to my phone. Next are the audiobooks, generally by authors I have previously read, or favorably reviewed writers that manage to pop up on my radar. Finally, there's the weird shit. The hit-or-miss oddities that result from my best efforts to panhandle the darker corners of the internet. It was during my search for that third and final category of spookabilia that I happened upon an unimposing torrent file simply titled "scary story collection. " The torrent's description did little to describe the stories, offering only a file listing of sequentially numbered mp3s. 3 3 3 3 3 Being the eve of my monthly odyssey, I figured it was a lucky break, and the vagueness of the description only intensified my curiosity. I checked for comments, and even tried to find a duplicate of the torrent on other websites that might have more information, or at least some type of commentary from a fellow downloader. I didn't find anything, and after downloading the torrent file, I found myself unable to navigate back to the page I originally found it on. I even opened up my history, and sifted through the various links only to come up empty handed. It began to occur to me that the entire thing had been a product of my imagination. This line of thought was quickly extinguished, however, when I opened up the downloads folder to find the torrent file waiting for me. rrent Even the name was peculiar. So very generic, unlike any torrent I had ever downloaded. I fired up my VPN software, double-clicked the file, and waited for the download location prompt. I made a new folder on my desktop for easy retrieval, and let my torrent app do its magic. I don't remember very much about the rest of that night. It was mostly uneventful, though I do remember checking the torrent's status once before bed. 0% I figured letting it run overnight wouldn't hurt anything, so I clicked off the monitor and hopped into bed. It didn't take long for the hum of my computer to lull me into a deep sleep. I gained consciousness somewhere around 3 a. m. Blinking through my foggy, sleep-induced tunnel-vision, I began to make out a soft white glow on my bedroom wall. This was accompanied by the strange sound of what I thought was television static hanging in the air. As my sleep-addled brain tightened its grip on reality, the static slowly formed into coherent words. It was a hushed voice, whispering harshly from somewhere behind me. The voice was speaking so fast, I could do little but make out the occasional random word. Something about taking, or dancing. I'm not really sure, to be honest. I turned in my bed, a mixture of confusion and fear churning somewhere deep in my stomach. So recently deprived of light, my eyes squinted instinctively at the monitor's bright glow. I could barely make out a black shape in the midst before it abruptly shut off with an audible pop. The whispering ceased, and the only sound of the night was the electric whine of my hardware powering down. I sometimes enjoy falling asleep to movies, and there are times when I forget to set a shutdown timer. To my sleep-addled brain, the logic checked out. I fell asleep shortly after. The next morning, having completely forgotten about the previous night's events, I powered my PC up and checked on the torrent. 100% I navigated to my desktop, and sure enough there was an innocuous little folder housing five mp3 files. I tried opening the first file. ERROR - UNKNOWN CODEC Annoyed, I right-clicked the file and tried a different audio player. No dice. I tried the rest of my media programs. Nothing. Not a single program on my computer was capable of opening the file. I repeated this process with the other four files, but none of them produced even a second of playable media. I shut the PC off and spent the rest of the morning preparing for my trip. Nothing exciting really happened for the entirety of the trip, and even the first few weeks following it were mundane. I had almost completely forgotten about the files on my desktop, and recent developments at work only pushed them further from my thoughts. I was on my way home, serving time in the mandatory traffic of north Dallas, when the files decided to make their return to the forefront of my mind. I had a gaming podcast on as background noise, barely audible over the roaring of my air conditioner's struggle with the Texas summer heat. Traffic had long stopped its progressive inching. I tried to make out some hint of movement in the vast expanse of cars before me, but nothing budged. Worrying for my car's tiny engine, I flicked the a/c off and rolled down my windows. There was no more air coming out of my vents, but the sound of the air conditioner lingered, and it took me a few seconds to figure out that the noise was coming from my car speakers. Looking down, I could see the faint glow of my phone nestled in its cubby. Something was playing on the screen. I lifted the phone up, its audio cable still tethered to my car's auxiliary input, and began watching. It was a video of a classroom. For some reason, I remember the color of the walls most vividly. A pale, matte yellow sparsely populated with your typical classroom fare. Cheesy posters, a bulletin board, and a dingy window partially covered by a crumpled set of off-white blinds. Ten or so students were visible in the shot, each sitting at their cramped desks and staring forward obediently. I couldn't really make out the decade, but the video quality alone seemed indicative of the mid-80s or early-90s. In the background, I could now hear the robotic intonation of a teacher mid-lesson. This continued for several minutes. I sat transfixed, oblivious to the baking sun and the hundreds of impatient motorists that surrounded me. Still the children sat, and were it not for the sound coming through my car stereo, I would have assumed the video frozen. Without warning, a young girl in the center of the group turned her head slowly towards the camera. The low resolution of the video combined with the tiny screen made it hard to make out her expression, but the sense of unease that washed over me made me instantaneously nauseous. There wasn't anything particularly unnerving about her appearance. Short black hair, white bow adorned atop. She was wearing what appeared to be the same base uniform as the other students, black vest over a white blouse. As she continued to stare, I began to notice the sliver of her mouth opening ever so slightly. I strained to listen, only hearing the same unseen teacher droning onward in the background. The sliver continued to widen, eventually surpassing the confines of her young face. When the first few droplets hit the top of her desk, I immediately realized that she wasn't opening her mouth. She was bleeding from it. She continued to stare towards the camera, the blood now flowing steadily onto the desk and pooling in its center. The students around her had also apparently began to notice, some now scrambling from their desks while others simply began to scream. The droning voice of the teacher had been completely engulfed by the commotion of the students. Then, without warning, the screen went dark and my speakers silent. I absent-mindedly dropped the phone to the floor. My back ice-cold despite the blanket of sweat that covered it. Somewhere behind me, a horn bellowed, angrily punctuating its futility. It was enough to snap me back into reality, where I tried my best to remain on the ride home. Back at my apartment, I snagged my phone from the car and began flipping through the recent applications. Sure enough, the default video player was on the list. I selected the program and hit the recently played tab. What I saw must have dropped my internal temperature at least twenty degrees. 3 Part (2/2) can be found here:
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