<<transcript intercepted @ 20:00 on 11/29/12>>
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<<opening attachment: SILENCE.TXT>>
Someone help me. They’re everywhere.
Swarming, teeming,
breeding out of control, like insects.
I never wanted it to be
this way. I never could have expected they would grow to be this strong, not
when they lacked so much in defense – no claws, no teeth, no fangs, not even
thick hide. I never could have predicted they would become so powerful. Not
like this.
But they did. Oh, they
did. Slowly, bit by bit, I watched their little congregations grow, their small
hives of hundreds, and saw them expand to a thousand, a million or more. The
infestation has spread so far, so fast. There must be billions of them all over
this planet by now.
And with them come the
noise.
Oh, the noise, that
awful, terrible noise. They’re
absolutely surrounded by it, it’s as
much a part of them as their flesh is. They cocoon themselves in it, always
chattering amongst themselves in awful, high-pitched tones, and always doing so
in groups, only increasing the painful decibels. They stick in small bands of
their kind, that terribly small being with tiny white teeth and far too little
fur for any normal mammal to have…
The noise
hurts. Why, why does it hurt? I do not
understand…
Their faces… their faces
are the worst. So very many faces of their kind I’ve seen, with wide eyes that
blink constantly and broad, pink tongues. The sounds escaping their tiny maws,
set into hairless flesh, are as incomprehensible as they are excruciatingly
loud. I… do not understand how they have grown so numerous, or why they come so
near to my home, but they come, sometimes alone, sometimes with others, and at
all hours. Always bringing noise and confusion with them, always too curious
for their own good.
And so I try to scare
them off, or else hide deeper within my sanctuary. I am forced to as they pave
my floor and remove ever more of my scaffolding and camouflage to create their
own dwellings. Why do they take from me? What do they want? I am slowly losing
ground and soon might not have much left.
I’m scared. I don’t like
to be out in the open. I need the trees; I need my solitude. I don’t want to be
homeless because of those… those things,
those mad, loud things that make no sense to me.
Their spawn are even
worse. Tiny, squirming, noisy little parasites, all clustering around scrap
metal piles to shout and scream at each other. All gathering together in their
pods of incessant noise.
I despise them most of
all.
But some… some of them
are more introspective. Some of them are far saner than their fellows, if such
deranged beings can have enough mental capacity to be anything resembling sane.
Some of them prefer to sit alone, engrossed solitary activities, rarely joining
their loud peers.
Sometimes, I will watch
them as they rest alone in their lacunae of beautiful, natural quiet, if only
to learn a bit more about the parasites. Of course, they eventually spot me and
run away screeching in alarm; the quiet ones are so much more observant than
their peers.
Sometimes, if they are
quiet enough and they do not run, I will approach them, and allow them to see
me. If they’re young enough, they don’t screech, merely staring at me instead.
Staring with those wide, sickening eyes.
But if I get too close,
if I approach too soon, if I follow too much, they make that same hideous
screeching noise that hurts me to my very core, and they run away and make
commotion. Pointing at where I last was, although by then I am long gone. No
amount of pain is worth understanding these disturbing beings. Even their
youngest will attack me with noise, simply for the sin of trying to comprehend
what I can’t.
Unless I force them to
stop, which I usually must. I first must get them alone, muffling the noise
with my hands, bringing them somewhere I know better than they do. Usually by
that point they screech far louder still, but I silence them. I hit them with long
arms until the noise stops, I claw at them and screech back, even as I freeze
up at their gaze, standing awkwardly still like a deer in bright light. Usually
this works well enough, although I always end up covered in some sort of
disgusting red ichor, a fluid which fills their grotesquely misshapen bodies.
What this substance is I do not know, and I’m not entirely sure I want to find
out.
But they just keep coming
after me. No matter how many of their number I kill, no matter how many I scare
into madness, they keep coming into my home, searching the tall trees for me.
They use strange metal boxes with eyes to see me when their eyes cannot,
ripping away bits and pieces of me to observe later.
It would be terribly
fascinating to understand how such devices worked if they didn’t hurt me so
very much. If they didn’t make me want to hurt them, just to make the pain end.
I can’t help my
curiosity, though. They disturb and disgust me as much as they intrigue me.
They, like all creatures do, must sleep at some point – and when they sleep,
they make no noise.
This is when they are
best observed. Through small portals of solid, clear substance they set into
the walls of their homes, I can view them; I need not the sickening organs
called eyes to see. They lay curled in beds and under thick cloths, blanketed
in warmth. They so rarely notice me, unless I stay too long and they happen to
wake up. Occasionally I am spotted this way, and occasionally they do scream,
but far more often, they are too startled and simply run away instead,
operating on some primal urge to escape.
… Do these beings have
thought, I wonder? Do they reason? They do seem a reasonably clever enough
species, and I know for certain they dream – I have peered into their nighttime
musings on occasion, although they seem to turn to nightmares when I do. But
can such loud beings, forever ensconced in constant noise, ever truly be
rational enough to think?
How on earth does one think with such racket around
them constantly?
Some of them have… caught
my interest, admittedly. They are horrifying and disgusting, but fascinating
(and even tasty), beings, and they could all do well to learn the value of
silence. Of quiet observation. Many already have with my influence, I suppose.
Perhaps that is all these
beings truly need. Perhaps they can be civilized and trained to behave
properly, instead of being noisy, barbaric creatures. Indeed, those of their
young that have followed me to the forest, or that I have taken, seem to have
learned well enough from me. Besides, having disturbing features such as mouths
and eyes where none should be is really no excuse for such constant commotion.
Yes… that is all they
need, that shall be my goal.
And so, I will follow
them, and watch, and wait silently, as I have always done... As I always will
do. And when I find them at last, when they finally realize that running solves
nothing and only the silence can save them, then I will take them with me, into
my long and numerous arms, and then they will see reason.
Then they will all see reason.
<<end transcript.>>
