Silence | Teen Ink

Silence

March 11, 2024
By 1500435, Indialantic, Florida
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1500435, Indialantic, Florida
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Author's note:

I used to be very cautious and scared of all things horror, however, when I grew older I finally watched my first horror movie and I grew obsessed with the genre, even thinking of my own short stories on occassion to experiment with different topics. 

The apartment was empty. A cold, deafening silence rang through the thin plaster walls. You could hear a pin drop, if you so desired. But, that's how I liked it. My room mate wasn’t exactly a quiet kind of guy, so when he went out for the weekend, the solitude of my sole presence in our shared apartment was soothing. The silence gave me time to think, focus, and just enjoy being present where I was. Silence, to me, was a gift, and something you had to enjoy in due time before it was taken away again. In retrospect, I was an introvert, mostly. I didn’t exactly get along with the students on campus, no matter how many times my roommate attempted to get me out. I liked my solitude. It made me feel in control. The silence allowed me to think, and just be.


Such pleasures couldn’t last forever. My professor had decided to start off the new semester with a group project. Far from my forte. The only thing keeping me sane, was the relaxed demeanor of my project partners. Even then, it wasn’t something I was dying to do in my free time. I sat in the dark, the only flash of light from my desktop, as my group had met on a Zoom call for our work. Two boys, and one girl. The girl was a drab, unkempt individual. Her name was Vivianne. The other two, equally as unkempt, but much livelier spirits. One being Troy, a fairly smart guy from what I knew. He’d often help tutor the students on campus, and he was a decently organized man when it came to class work. The second being Azlan, a bit of a jokester, but someone who was clearly seeking social validation. He wasn’t the most quiet person, but on the call, he stayed relatively still. 


Troy took charge as team leader, motioning for us to read the chapter we were assigned in sections, and regroup towards the end. The silence followed after, a comforting, relaxing aura filled the air as we sat in our personal tasks… nobody spoke a word. Not a creature was stirring. That was, until Azlan decided to break the seeming tension, asking us if we wanted to see a “cool photo”. I hesitated to respond, Vivianne had stayed silent, simply shrugging in response while Troy released a deepened sigh. He told him he could do so, but that we would continue on task afterwards. A pop up appeared in the chat of the call screen, an option to open the photo within my grasp. I clicked the icon, only to be met with the unexpected. The photo was of a woman. But not just any woman. Her skin was cracked, and pale as cauliflower. Her hair in knotted clumps, soaked and dragging along her stiffened shoulders. Her eyes were outlined with deep bags, and a tinge of an emotion only visible if examined closely. Fear. The strangest part of the woman was the chain around her neck, and her lack of limbs. 


I jumped back from my screen, my mouse dropping from my hand in one swift motion, The clicker hit the ground with a thud, the computer taking such action as a signal to close the image. Azlan was naturally scolded for subjecting us to such… horrific imagery. But a question lingered in my mind. I couldn’t just forget seeing what I saw. The image flickered in my head like a broken record, each gruesome detail of the woman’s body closing in on my imagination. I finally spoke. Asking Azlan where he got the image.

He explained to us that he found the picture on the dark web. A hidden, prohibited place where the internet stored its most bizarre feed. I asked him how he had access to such a place, and he danced around the question with such ease that sent a tingle down my spine. He began to tell us of the other strange things he had seen, all in an excruciating detail that was enough to produce the image in your mind. Troy had begun to urge Azlan to stop, while Vivianne claimed the photo seemed photoshopped, a fake. 


A ding echoed through the screen. An icon appeared next to my classmates' cameras. A blank , default profile. The new caller made no noise, not a sound. Though, the microphone icon was visibly on. A silence followed. Not the kind of silence you cherish, but the kind that could stop a heart beat. The silence continued. The icon did not budge. A presence that made itself known through the silence. Troy decided to step up, as always, asking who was in the call. It seemed none of us knew, a response that was given without words. Only the pulsing veins, rapid heart beats, and darted pupils produced a response to such a question. 


The caller did not respond. The silence grew louder, as did Azlan. He commanded in such an authority that could come from a shaken puppy, demanding the mystery person to tell us who they were, and what they had wanted. Nothing in return. A silence that grew my classmates frustration, as he began to ramble, shout, and spit varying insults towards the screen. I felt myself disassociate, my body had frozen where it sat, and my heart beat could be heard ringing through my ears. My eyes shut tight, hoping any moment I would wake up from such a horrible dream.


The silence returned. 


I opened my eyes, and was met with a frozen screen of my classmates' angry, confused, horrified faces. The screen was stiff, and quiet. The microphone icons were on, yet made no produced sound. The only one that flashed green, a signal of noise on the screen, was the blank icon. I trudged closer to my screen, eyes narrowed as I carefully listened for any sign of movement, any sign of presence. A following sound was heard, as the camera for the mysterious icon was switched on. I instantly longed for the time when it was still off.

 

A presence was seen on the screen, yes, one that I imagined was human. But, it didn’t seem so humane. Heavy breathing echoed between my ears, as a cold, beady pair of eyes met my own. The man wore a pig mask, as cheesy as it sounds, though this isn't your typical party store halloween mask. The skin looked authentic, stitched together as it hugged his face in a sloppy, disheveled manner. His eyes stuck out from the eye holes, staring directly into mine with such a spirit that elevated my heart rate in an instant. I had never seen something so truly…. Evil. I finally mustered up the courage to ask who they were, and what they wanted. But as expected, I didn’t receive any reply. The man reached towards the camera, moving it in a swift, shaky motion. The audio was brought to his face for this moment, as a grunted breathing noise grew louder within the speaker. Once he had flipped the camera, the scene was set. A dark, rusty, and disgusting looking room. Something you’d only think of seeing in your nightmares. The walls dripped with rust, a withered down bronze color decorated with a variety of chains hung from the wall. The floor was covered in varying stains and grime, and the floorboards looked as if they were falling apart. But the environment wasn’t what got my blood flow to run cold. It wasn’t until my eyes landed on a woman. A chain around her neck, her knees dropped to the disgusting floor, her arms tied behind her back in a tight, and suffocating manner. This was the woman from the photo. I watched in horror, my pupils dilating into dot-like orbs, and my hands grasping onto my desk in desperation. I could practically feel my nails being ripped off, as I dug them into the cold wood of the counter. 


The pig man returned a moment later, holding a sledgehammer in one hand, and a separate phone in another. It didn’t take long for my brain to realize what was going on in front of me, but the cold adrenaline pumping through my veins prohibited me from looking away. The hammer was lifted in an instant, muffled cries from the woman rang through the audio before the screen glitched and faded to black. As if on cue, the video call ended in an instant, alerting me that the chat room had been closed. 


I could only sit in horror, my heart beat slowly but unsteadily pumping out of my chest, and my hands shakily producing a warm, sticky sweat. 


Since that day, I have dropped out of college. Never having spoken to any of those classmates again. Though, the memory remained as an unfathomable trauma in my mind, haunting me both day and night. I never heard from the pig man again, nor the woman that I was sure was long gone by now. But every night, just before bed, when the lights faded to a pitch black darkness, and the wind blew in from my window, I lay awake in thought. My body stiffened in a cold state of solitude, and my limbs too shaky to move from the covers. A silence that echoed from that very day, and forever on.



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