A Story I Write To One Fine Robot Who Made Something To Pass
May 21, 2016 19:26:04 GMT -6
via mobile
Post by DAE THE WRITER on May 21, 2016 19:26:04 GMT -6
"So, where ya'll at?" Jason's sister spoke in teenage angst. She was excited for her 12 friends to be there any minute. Jason was 20 years old and was left to babysit them. Before he knew it he heard "Hey—y Gi—rl!" The voice rang through Jason's earbuds which was odd because they were turned all the way up. It was an audiobook. Someone on some forum site recommended it to him so he could ignore them. Obviously, It didn't work.
After a few hours of mindlessly posting to various forums in search of help of the problem he called "teenagers." He heard something. "Hey, you guys ever heard of Mister Stage." A male voice spoke softly. Jason still didn't understand how he could hear them. He decided it was time to please the posters and go up stairs. He walked up there stairs where the young spoke:
"Okay so I will tell you the story then the ritual. Mister Stage was a kids performer. He often incorporated technology into his programs to teach kids that change is good and about internet safety or whatever. One day he was driving down the street when a semi struck and killed him on impact. However witnessed have said that they saw his severed arm turning on his phone and dialing something. Shortly after his death twelve phones call were made to people who paid Stage to perform. A distorted voice said 'I am not done playing.'
Soon after kids began to disappear and would be found viciously murdered. But, here's where you guys get involved.
It is said that if you put twelve phones in a circle and put a put a dead or unplugged phone you will receive a call. The rest however is unknown." The young boy sounded excited to try. Maybe if he hadn't been at the party he would be on Reddit or end up being called underage by everyone on a certain infamous forum.
Jason walked up to the top just so he could look. They turned off all the lights and they put all twelve of there phones in a circle. Jason's sister took our old dial up rotary phone and placed it in the middle. It hadn't been used for about 20 years and was practically useless.
The young boy told Jason's sister to stand right there and when or if she heard the phone ring to pick it up. They sat. They waited. They heard something.
Ring— Ring.
Jason's phone began to ring. He answered it. "Hello...?" He said awkwardly.
"Don't be an observer... Take... Action." The voice sound as if it were an animal who could barely speak English.
Then the dial up phone rang. Jason's sister walked towards it and hesitated to pick it up. She stood for a little while and then she dropped the phone and dropped to her knees— vomiting.
One of her friends rushed over to her— She pulled up her to see that a piece of glass was sticking through her skull. Some of her friends began to run but Jason just stood. Watching them. Some grabbed their phones. Some prayed to god. Some ran. Then Jason saw it. A figure, He wore a black suit and he had shaggy, curly hair. However blood was coming out where his arm should be. The figure began to smile.
Followed by that smile the power went out. He ran to his room and shut himself in. He then heard the cries of the children. They were saying "It's burning." Jason heard the burning of his house. Jason also could hear the sound of laughing.
Soon it came to him. The phones that the kids where carrying began to over heat. The began getting hotter and hotter until--- FIRE! Jason began to make the connections. Until the fire stopped. He just heard the laughter, now.
He pulled open his laptop and opened the thread he created. Posters were wondering where he was and he began to type up the story to tell everyone. No one would believe but it would make good last words.
Jason's door began to knock violently as if someone was trying to beat down the door. When Jason posted the story someone else posted at the same time as him. It read "Your Pathetic, You let your sister, your blood burn. Now your just gonna lock you self up Jason? Don't worry I'll let myself in." The poster attached an image. It was of the man with curly hair smiling, like he was about commit a sinister act.
Jason's door crashed and the man attacked him. His screams rang through the neighborhood.
That's where Jason's story ends but what happens after is rather odd. When pulling up the archive thread the photo is of just Jason. But however the message on the post reads "One More Show... One More Call."
After a few hours of mindlessly posting to various forums in search of help of the problem he called "teenagers." He heard something. "Hey, you guys ever heard of Mister Stage." A male voice spoke softly. Jason still didn't understand how he could hear them. He decided it was time to please the posters and go up stairs. He walked up there stairs where the young spoke:
"Okay so I will tell you the story then the ritual. Mister Stage was a kids performer. He often incorporated technology into his programs to teach kids that change is good and about internet safety or whatever. One day he was driving down the street when a semi struck and killed him on impact. However witnessed have said that they saw his severed arm turning on his phone and dialing something. Shortly after his death twelve phones call were made to people who paid Stage to perform. A distorted voice said 'I am not done playing.'
Soon after kids began to disappear and would be found viciously murdered. But, here's where you guys get involved.
It is said that if you put twelve phones in a circle and put a put a dead or unplugged phone you will receive a call. The rest however is unknown." The young boy sounded excited to try. Maybe if he hadn't been at the party he would be on Reddit or end up being called underage by everyone on a certain infamous forum.
Jason walked up to the top just so he could look. They turned off all the lights and they put all twelve of there phones in a circle. Jason's sister took our old dial up rotary phone and placed it in the middle. It hadn't been used for about 20 years and was practically useless.
The young boy told Jason's sister to stand right there and when or if she heard the phone ring to pick it up. They sat. They waited. They heard something.
Ring— Ring.
Jason's phone began to ring. He answered it. "Hello...?" He said awkwardly.
"Don't be an observer... Take... Action." The voice sound as if it were an animal who could barely speak English.
Then the dial up phone rang. Jason's sister walked towards it and hesitated to pick it up. She stood for a little while and then she dropped the phone and dropped to her knees— vomiting.
One of her friends rushed over to her— She pulled up her to see that a piece of glass was sticking through her skull. Some of her friends began to run but Jason just stood. Watching them. Some grabbed their phones. Some prayed to god. Some ran. Then Jason saw it. A figure, He wore a black suit and he had shaggy, curly hair. However blood was coming out where his arm should be. The figure began to smile.
Followed by that smile the power went out. He ran to his room and shut himself in. He then heard the cries of the children. They were saying "It's burning." Jason heard the burning of his house. Jason also could hear the sound of laughing.
Soon it came to him. The phones that the kids where carrying began to over heat. The began getting hotter and hotter until--- FIRE! Jason began to make the connections. Until the fire stopped. He just heard the laughter, now.
He pulled open his laptop and opened the thread he created. Posters were wondering where he was and he began to type up the story to tell everyone. No one would believe but it would make good last words.
Jason's door began to knock violently as if someone was trying to beat down the door. When Jason posted the story someone else posted at the same time as him. It read "Your Pathetic, You let your sister, your blood burn. Now your just gonna lock you self up Jason? Don't worry I'll let myself in." The poster attached an image. It was of the man with curly hair smiling, like he was about commit a sinister act.
Jason's door crashed and the man attacked him. His screams rang through the neighborhood.
That's where Jason's story ends but what happens after is rather odd. When pulling up the archive thread the photo is of just Jason. But however the message on the post reads "One More Show... One More Call."
