002 — audio. [iphone]

[argents]

[ What first rips across the audio post is deafening silence. Fitting, as it's late—not terribly so, but enough that all smart people were either currently sleeping, or otherwise cramming for finals, in most of his acquaintances' cases. But this particular silence is tense, and smothering, and dark. As if it's currently awaiting something that's never going to happen. In realization of this, a slow, shaky exhale reveals the presence on the other line, stirring the otherwise quiet post to life. A whip of sheets, footsteps, the flick of a light switch.

A quiet mumble, if only to himself:

Just once?

Whatever Banagher was hoping to capture via audio, or prove the existence of, he's missed his chance. So instead, he brings his phone up to a proper speaking distance. ]

Hey, those werewolves. The ones from the Dead District, a few weeks ago. They... they're all supposed to be gone, right? There's howling, somewhere outside. Or, a howl. I only heard it once, but there was no mistaking it, it wasn't normal.

[ Distantly, a the tinny echo of another voice joins him, distinctly mechanical: Banagher! Didn't hear anything, didn't hear anything! A dream? ]

I heard it, Haro! It wasn't some dream!

[ A heavy sigh, to blanket the nervousness. ]

And it wasn't only the howling, either.

Comments

[reckless_fire]

Heh. Give that man a cigar, and a blowtorch to light it with.

[argents]

I like my face in tact, I think.