Oh Night Unholy [IC] [TWI]

[Laeden]

“Take this and hide,” the professor said, handing over a gray suitcase and closing the door. To an outside observer, the door was barely noticeable. It was an old broom closet whose handle had broken a long time ago, so the only way to open or close the door was with a jerk. Even local employees were unaware of the small closet, which made it a perfect hiding place.

From inside the closet, an attentive, frightened eye watched the scene unfold outside. Looking through the keyhole, the vision wasn't the sharpest or the most perfect, but it was enough to see the scene that unfolded next.

It didn't take long for the door to the room to burst open. A few men entered, judging by the sound of footsteps. However, only one came close enough to be visible to the observer from inside the closet.

“Professor,” said this man, in a calm, calm voice. Dangerously calm, perhaps. It was the voice of a persuasive man, who got what he wanted, and who preferred not to use force, though he didn't shy away from doing so when necessary. “You knew we would come. Why the surprise?".

On the other side, the host looked on, openmouthed. His face wore a terrified expression, and his dread was such that he couldn't even summon the strength to respond.

“Now don't be shy,” said the first man, straightening the professor's bow tie, who was dressed in a shabby beige suit. The man's suit, dark blue and tailored, was in stark contrast to the professor's attire. His clothes, and his manners, implied that he was some kind of successful businessman or important politician. His accent was not local, but at the same time it was difficult to discern its origin. “There is nothing to fear. See, I'm a rational man. I am fair. I don't see why the two of us can't profit from this encounter”.

The intruder smiled broadly and walked away from the professor, taking a few steps around him. Despite his efforts to sound friendly and gentle, the observer got the impression that the man was like a wolf, surrounding his prey and playing with his feelings before making the fatal strike.

“You have something we want. I know you know what I'm talking about. Well, if you give us back, I'm willing to be benevolent and let you get out of this meeting alive. Doesn't it seem fair? Of course your life is worth more than a few papers and a few trinkets, isn't it?” he asked convincingly.

“If these trinkets are worthless…” said the professor, after a long period of silence. "Then why are you willing to... kill me for them?" he asked.

The man laughed. “Well, the value is relative, my dear. The knickknacks may be worth little. But to me your life is worth even less. I could kill you just for the fun of watching your last breath. But I'm offering my mercy. So, what do you say about my agreement?" asked the man, offering his hand for a squeeze.

The professor watched the man for several seconds. To the observer, whose heart was pounding as hard as drums and whose eyes were dilated with adrenaline, it seemed an eternity for the professor to act. In a quick movement, that is, as fast as his elderly body would allow, the professor ran to a drawer, from which he pulled out a revolver. Before he could take aim, however, the man had already approached, with almost superhuman speed. He caught the professor's wrist just as he was about to fire, and moments before his finger pulled the trigger, the man pushed his hand up into the air, causing every shot from the revolver to hit the ceiling.

“You made the wrong choice,” said the man, in a disappointed voice. He pulled a strange dagger out of his suit, and stabbed the professor in the stomach, a few inches below his left rib. The professor let out a short cry of agony, falling heavily to the floor as blood slowly dripped onto the wooden floor.

The man, in turn, approached the fallen old man, preparing to take his life. “Not yet,” a voice, coming from a corner of the room where the observer could not see, said before the man in the suit could deliver the last blow. “He can still be useful” reiterated the same voice, which was more dreadful than any sound ever heard in that house. The man in the suit silently consented and grabbed the professor by the shirt collar, dragging him across the floor toward the door. The professor's gaze flicked one last time to the keyhole of that secret door, from which he knew he was being watched. In his black eyes, pain and despair gave way, for a brief fraction of a second, to hope. He closed his eyes and resigned himself to his fate, leaving the observer alone and safe.

[Ainslie]

Oh Night Unholy | A Shift in the Central-West
1:58pm, 9 July 2021
AFR Arnton Tablelands Studios, Herriden

Gensen Remillen was in his element in the studio. It was just him, his microphone and his wife sitting across the table from him ready to help him run the radio show with a large board of knobs and dials in front of her. Pure perfection. Genno, a graying fellow of middle age, looked up at the large analog clock as it ticked towards 2pm. He watched as a small sign in the corner of the room became illuminated with the words ‘LIVE’. It was go time, and he couldn’t wait to see the sorts of things he’d hear and learn about today.

The folky tune came over the speakers and through the radio sets of his thousands of listeners before the iconic last line of the song rang out “Cmon Genno, we’ve been waiting all week!”

Genno then put his hand on his wrist, leant into the mic and began to start the radio show.

“Arae! It’s Genno here on a cloudy and a chilly day up here in Herriden ready for another afternoon of Across Ainslie. You’d think the autumn is going up here but no, it definitely is summer. Lots to get through this afternoon in these short few hours we have together, a bit of news, some great music but more importantly this is your show - ring us up and we’ll put you on the air. We want to hear your musings, your experiences - anything interesting or fascinating or something you want to report into the show, let us know - the number today is 1300 333 458.”

“First up this morning, we’ve got Araleine”, Gensen (G) announced.

“Good day, Genno. How are you?”, Araleine responded (A)

G: “Very well thank you. How about you? Where is it around where you are?”

A: “I live in Endereen Close, over in Badara.”

G: “Endereen… that is one of those communities which had that awful robbery a little while ago, right? Were you there when it happened?”

A: “Yes, but I was on the other side of the estate where a lot of the robberies are. I am very thankful for that - I’m pretty shaken up and my heart aches for those who still can’t feel safe falling asleep because of what happened that night. Troubling, but everyone I know is safe and I am confident that the management here in the estate has everything sorted. And the government too.”

G: “Yeah, it must be very difficult for all involved. Ever since last year, really awful things seem to be happening out there in the mighty central-west. You lot have hearts of gold out there and thick skin though, I’m sure you all will get through this and be better for it on the other side.”

A: “Spirit’s just remarkable out here. They seem to have arrested a few of the people responsible but I’m sure they have not gotten to everyone yet. I suppose we sit and wait, either the government will get them or they’ll show themselves for a bit too long and someone will get to them.”

G: “Yeah… very worrying situation. Anything else you wanted to talk about?”

A: “Nup, just wanted to report in and say I’m all safe and that the community around here is really getting behind all the victims.”

G: “Thanks for the update Araleine. See you next time.”

Later on, at about 3:30pm
G: “I believe we have Moïse on the line”
Moïse (M): “Bonjour, Gensen!”
G: “Hello there. I believe you’ve outed yourself already, so let us know - where abouts you originally from?”
M: “Segentova, Beautiful town in the centre of the nation - Nouveau Avignon. Moved to Dallara fifteen years ago and have an excellent patch of dirt out the back of Andare. I live a simple life here with my missus, got a big flock of cows and some sheep too.”

G: “Bet it gets a bit hotter out there than in Segentova”

M: “Not too much hotter Genno, but definitely drier. Glad we’ve got the rainwater tanks and the Great Ahnslen Basin out here.”

G: “Yes, the aquifer really is a lifeline for everyone out your way, isn’t it?

M: “Most certainly Genno - it’s got us farming deep into the arid west here. We’ve become the breadbasket out here!”

G: “Certainly an achievement of careful government management over the past few decades and the hard work of farmers like you, who ought to be commended a lot more often”

M: “Thanks Genno - you want to hear what I wanted to talk about?”

G: “Yes, definitely. Tell us.”

M: “Not sure if you’d believe it but I can’t get the experience out of my head so I suppose you hear around the place if you can’t deal with something you should talk to someone so here it goes.”

G: “Yes, feel free to speak - after all, whenever I speak to friends or simply just someone else about something it makes it so much more clearer and manageable.”

M: “Was about six months ago, a bit before Christmas. I was driving on the road that just goes past my farm into town. Almost hitting dusk and I was looking at all the trees that were so sparse and it almost looked like they were all dead - that’s how it always looks in winter. Was getting dark, so I was also keeping an eye for anything that’d get startled by my headlights or run out the front of my truck. I saw this bright light reflect back on me off my headlights and I looked closer and it seemed to be a knife hanging out from a tree waving me off the road.”

G: “A knife, waving?”

M: “I thought it was strange too. Now when I think about it it must have been one of those vampires in their long dark coats waving for me to get off the road - I thought at the time it was someone trying to rob me so I just slammed my foot on the accelerator and got into town as quick as I could.”

G: “Without a speeding ticket I do hope.”

M: “No police out here Genno!”

G: “Yeah that’s what I thought when I was out driving past Ashtown on the way to see an old IW1 memorial in rural Burnessa - got slapped by a 300 ahnsen ticket and never trusted that instinct again.”

M: “Middle of nowhere here. Besides - I’ll get back to last December’s drive. When I got into town my phone buzzed three times - naturally us rural folk normally know what this means, that there’s a bushfire on its way and we have to get our properties cleaned up. So imagine my surprise when I feel it in my pocket in the wintertime. I opened it up, the flashlight was doing all sorts of patterns and this message pops up in my phone telling me that one of those monoliths popped up in the national park which backs onto the town and not to approach it etcetera etcetera. It’s a popular place for the hikers and bike riders that stay around town to visit the park for a cycle or for a nice walk - so it was strange such a large steel structure popped up in the park and no one knew about it. Just one of those weird occurrences you’ve been hearing over the past few months and that i’ve noticed many people ring in about. The monolith one had a lot of press, but it seemed to fade away pretty quickly. Makes me think if these are all connected to those roendavarian cults wandering around the countryside causing all manner of distress and havoc.”

G: “Surely you don’t think they’re from Roendavar - a lot of the people they’ve found so far were Ahnslen citizens?”

M: “I don’t know Genno - whenever stuff like this happens, the Roendavarians don’t seem to be too far behind. I keep hearing word on the street that whenever there’s something strange or some kinda unexplainable crime happens, they hear the distant voices of those speaking in Roendavarian. I think there’s something big here, and the government’s got the wool over its eyes.”

G: “We’ll see Moïse, thanks for ringing in.”

M: “Any time Genno”

G: “Thanks, good bye - have a good one.”

The rest of the show largely went without incident, just the normal stories about crop yields, local community events and a brief weather report from farmers across the nation. The words from Moïse particularly sat with him after the show though. Genno himself had been raised up on a farm so he knew full well the kind of intuition the farmers have - they know the land and they know their communities… if he was correct, the government has a real problem on its hands.