Whispers in the Night [VotV AU OC]

[Bland Eggplant]

Hello. If you are reading this,



Name's Ana



The date is 25th​ of April in the year of our Lord



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Karstokarstokapinėsfaaaaag



its two in the morning and i cant write blet

…

...Well, if you don't know how to begin – begin from afar. Yeah, that sound reasonable. Some ranting would do me good.

This is gonna be wordy, maybe even preachy, so please endure… Or skip down a couple pages to the introduction. It's okay.

So, we all know that planet Earth ain't the best place for a human being to live. Not because of any big problems, like tectonic breakdancing or thin atmosphere, but because we as species are not the most reasonable, forward-looking or constructively-minded bunch. It's better in some places, sure, but in others things are much worse and so the picture overall is far from pleasing.

There are two ways the world can be fixed - a realistic and a fantastical one. The first way is for humanity to finally get its act together and do it ourselves… and the realistic one is for aliens to come and fix everything.
Some people believe it, some don't.

I, personally, have a couple things to say.

First of all, the world/society doesn't need fixing… because there's nothing to fix. Simple as that. It's not broken, by us or anyone else. And before you start providing me examples of current wars, genocides, social inequalities, moral failings of rich and powerful, etc. – let me provide a preemptive counter-example.

Say, you bought a phone in a shady radio-goods shop and, after using it for a couple days, ran into problems. It turns on, yes, you can call folks from it, but everything else about it sucks. The battery is short-lived, the screen isn't very responsive, the antenna bugs out, etc.… Classic back-alley goods, the very best of a barrel's bottom.
Is the phone broken? No. It's just bad.
Same as the world, society, humanity... Us, in other words. Not evil, just not very good at the second part of our species' name.

Except, in case with a phone, you can just throw it away and buy a new one - which is both easier, more effective and, probably, cheaper. It is also not an option in this particular case. No matter how many unpleasant people you stuff into garbage cans, the societal problems will persist.

So the Powers That Be turn to the most likely solution for all our problems – as mentioned in the saying far above.

Aliens. Space ones, mostly, but extra-dimensionals are on the menu as well, we just don't have the means yet. In the meanwhile, most effort goes to the final frontier.

Sending a Voyager probe outside Solar system, broadcasting radios into space, creating all kinds of sci-fi fiction and other media… Loads and loads of money vented into vacuum – all to lure in and then catch a passing space tourist by protrusions and get in contact with their interstellar polity, who will surely be obligated to adopt our species like a starving kitten on a roadside.

A decent plan, in theory. Too bad the aliens ain't biting. As far as I can tell, there hasn't been a single confirmed UFO in… decades now and there's no -guarantee the previous ones weren't fake in the first place.
Unfortunately, there's just not much else we can do. Big space programs are kind of shot for now, outside of ISC support and satellite launches. Human-controlled flight to colonies on Moon or Mars won't be happening for the next half-a-century, at least, likely much longer. Anything else is of limited use and chance of success…

…Well, I guess there's also SETI.

Can't believe I almost forgot this one, it's kind of important to the topic at hand. Then again, it's a miracle I've remembered the name at all – it's been a non-entity for decades now, the related information kind of melted into a blob. Young people probably don't even know what it is.
But long ago, so far away it might've been another world, things were different. I was a kid through most of it, only really catching the last glimpses, but still kind of remember how it went from newspapers and such. You probably do too. Wrack your brains for a bit, it was good entertainment so the memories should still be vivid.
If they aren't or you simply weren't present at the time – here's a short story. We're getting somewhere with this, I promise.

So, SETI means 'Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence' – an overall name for a combined effort of many different agencies and organizations. The logic behind it was simple and sound:

1) Aliens ain't coming to us, despite our efforts to attract attention.
2) Must be bystander syndrome.
3) Gotta find a signal, triangulate its location and then contact them directly to break the stupor.

Absolutely foolproof, genius at its core.
After all, who'll get better results – a homeless man screaming in the middle of a street for donations or a belligerent gypsy woman singling out and then ambushing her prey in a back alley?
Exactly. As I said, the logic was sound.

Lots of agencies and orgs put their weight in, built telescopes, radars, observatories and whatnot. Hired construction crews, scientists, specialists, conspiracy theorists, etc. Billions of money were involved, thousands of jobs were created, it was this huge booming deal. The progress has been slow, despite all the effort, but it didn't discourage people – only gave them a challenge.
New and exciting stories about caught signals came out every month or so, with lights in the sky that were totally aliens, totally legit UFO sightings, things going bump in the night, news of abductions, crop circles, urban legends, conspiracy theories… you know.
The good times. The naïve times.

Then the Cold War ended and Powers That Be found themselves with a lot of new investment opportunities popping up around the world and, therefore, with need to redirect financial policies. So they did an investigation and, well, as anyone with common sense already knew, it all turned out to be rubbish. SETI, in fact, didn't catch a single signal worth pursuing in all of its existence.
So they cut funding, putting the whole initiative on life support and rare donations. For years the stargazers around the world struggled to keep it operational and searched desperately for that one real thing to make it all work and get those cushy lifestyles back…
…Then the 2000s came and slammed a heavy coffin lid on the bed, pasting the patient's skull all over the pillow.
That was the end of things.

Sad, if you ask me. There never was much hope for the project succeeding – and it's probably for the best that it didn't – but seeing a big dream die is still disheartening, no matter how silly it turned out to be in the end.

Of course, even almost twenty years later, there are still some stubborn folks left, thinking that a dried corpse on a roadside is only asleep and just takes its time breathing. Private companies, mostly, trying to make do with whatever money they could beg for and equipment they managed to reanimate.

Alpen Signal Observatory – or ASO for short – is one of those hopefuls, if in a different weight league than the rest. At some point it was a reputable and widely known organization, even now boasting a massive information stand at the entrance and a long presentation on the website.
Most of it is just bait to fool a careless investor, but the timeline is legit – they really were there at the start, back in the 70s. By the end of it all they had a huge facility in the Alps with an array of 24 (then) cutting-edge radio telescopes, own dedicated processing center and even an exclusive contract with a local nuclear power station to supply electricity... which, if you know anything about Switzerland, is very impressive.

Nowadays ASO isn't doing so hot. The company was nearly dead in the water for quite a while, hemorrhaging tech and talent into the world, until the current director-slash-head scientist managed to secure funding and began wrestling it back from the brink. No idea why a man of his caliber even bothered, but 'spite' seems to be the leading theory for now.

Anyway.

Apparently, ASO's signal capturing facility – the so-called Dankentaler… no, Dunkeltaler Forest Site wasn't completely abandoned, kept operational by a skeleton crew of backed-into-corner volunteers. The poor bastards couldn't be properly evacuated when it all went down and, understandably, chose to hold the fort instead of attempting escape on their own. They maintained telescopes, changed wiring, repaired whatever broke – everything in their limited power and means to keep the place running and as easy to reactivate as possible.

The facility is currently empty and been so for about three years, with Dr. Dee – the last surviving staff member – simply one day failing to collect supplies. That fact was discovered a month later, when the team arrived at the meeting point and found the previously dropped cargo sitting there still, dirty and untouched.
To this day it is unclear what exactly happened to these people… Officially, at least. There was some investigation from ASO, performed by the same delivery folks strong-armed into detective roles, but it was… inconclusive. The police had failed to respond in any meaningful way, simply filing another 'missing persons' case and shoving it in a far-off folder.

I'm pretty sure they're all dead. Mentally degraded people tend to not last very long away from civilization. Of course, it is possible that they had all just ran into the Alpen forests, formed a cult and now live their best lives praying to a fossilized roll of toilet paper, but… well, the chances ain't high. Wouldn't put money on it.

No idea what ASO were expecting, honestly. For people to not go missing? There? Yeah, right.

You see, Dunkeltaler Forest is known as a 'bad place' in the more occult-minded circles. Stories, rumors and (supposedly) real accounts of nearby foresters describe all sorts of things, ranging from general weirdness to dismembered animal carcasses, blood-curdling screams and literal demons from Hell breaching the veil of reality to drop pinecones at night when it's most frightening for the narrator.
Granted, those could have been the former ASO employees going for enthusiastic nightly walks in the woods, but… you know.

…Speaking of weird, here's a funny little tidbit.

To build the signal-catching facility ASO had contracted two other companies: 'W Zeigler' and 'STOLAS'. The first handled general construction and labor, while the latter provided electronic hardware and related infrastructure. The project was riddled with problems and delays – again, not surprising in that place – so, shortly after finishing it, 'W Zeigler' went bankrupt and left the scene. No idea where they are now.
STOLAS, on the other hand, is still an alive and kicking – if somewhat niche – company with headquarters in Speyer, Germany. What the acronym means is unknown… but the word itself is rather interesting. After all, Stolas is a Prince of Hell described in 'Ars Goetia', with main specialization in astronomy. Needless to say, it's not a name you just randomly come upon, especially not when making an acronym.

Now, I'm not saying they are a demonic cult, but… On second thought, it's probably nothing. Not my problem, not my interest, please don't visit me at night – I'm a very light sleeper.

And that's pretty much all about the place I'll be living at for the next two months.

Which means we're finally done with exposition. Hopefully. I don't really know how to write these things.

Anyway.

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Hello there.

Name's Anatolius Meskinis and I am a 'technical specialist' at Alpen Signal Observatory… which is a fancy way of saying that I make sure the old analogue equipment doesn't collapse from old age or if a smartphone-spoiled intern looks at it funny. Doesn't sound too glamorous, yeah, but it's not so bad. Could've been worse.

Though, from a certain point of view I guess it just got.

The ASO wants to re-open the Dunkeltaler Signal Facility, with it being their main claim to fame and all that. It was a long time coming, really, but… everyone kind of expected it to happen next year.
Apparently, Boss-man decided to hurry things up for whatever reason.
The organization is still pretty small, however, so there's not a lot of skilled manpower to serve as monster feed. For now it's only going to be one guy monkeying as a groundskeeper/technician combo and making the place habitable again, with plan maximum involving the Site's partial reactivation and signal search.

To Boss-man's credit, I wasn't the first candidate. Hell, us technical staff weren't even considered initially, not with a much better specimen recently hired specifically for this task.

It's probably better this way. Not because I hate the man or whatever – he's just… uh… peculiar. A uniquely terrifying individual, let's put it this way.

…This needs a more detailed explanation. Alright.

As a person he's fine. No, really. Nice to talk to, great listener, very polite, probably an introvert. Fresh uni graduate, about 25 years old. Looks bit twiggy and bit scruffy, in the way older women like, kinda like a confused and let-go Harry Potter. Works good in a team, quick thinker, all-around solid professional.

Sounds okay so far, right? Like it's just a normal guy we are talking about? Yeah, first impression is exactly that.

Except he's not human. I can swear on a cross that Dr. Kel is either some kind of a biorobot, a flesh golem or a demon-possessed corpse.

Why do I think that?

Well, first of all, he's not… uh… performance-consistent, and by that I mean he kind of alternates between going very fast and then going very slow. On average, his perception of time seems to be slower than normal, but when it comes to, say, making a report… ever seen a hacker in a movie type away real fast? Yeah, like that, but real. Eyes into monitor, hyper-focused, fingers tap like it's raining, complete in fifteen minutes then back to a slow-down.
Fascinating to watch.

Secondly, the place he graduated from (PHD at 25, by the way), according to certificate he showed one time, is 'University of Djavulen' in Sweden. The D-word literally means 'Devil' in Swedish. It is also the place where he met Dr. Ena – the woman who heavily recommended him to Boss-man… And Ena is a witch.

I do not mean it as an insult or that she makes horoscopes – she's a real-deal, grimoire-reading, Taro-playing witch… who's also an astronomer by day. Boss-man sought her out specifically as an occult specialist, for God's sake, and Baobab is a real no-nonsense guy.
This is where the 'flesh golem' theory comes from. I have zero material evidence of it, I don't really think Ena made the guy, but I wouldn't be surprised if she did. Otherwise things just don't make sense.

…And, like, I understand that astronomers tend to be all kinds of weird – it's hard to watch the stars through a solid roof – but the next part is much harder to just rationalize away.

Thirdly, a man of his build and lifestyle cannot, must not be able to perform as Kel does. He runs for kilometers without losing breath, swings ropes like a Tarzan, can lift at least a hundred kilos and not break a sweat – but only after consuming enough calories. Otherwise the guy just… turns off every minute or so and falls over where he stood like a rag doll… and can only be fixed with a 'Snickers' bar or something equally calorie-rich. Until he gets hungry again.

Now, look at all the things above, then look me in the eyes and say that it doesn't sound like a flesh automaton.
why are you lying to me
…In any case. You are probably wondering what happened to the Doctor Droid.

Well, biology happened.

Apparently, his creator – be it Ena or whoever else – decided that their peak-performance-male must be as close to humans as possible. Buffed-up for better characteristics, of course, but similar enough in general functionality.
…Remember I mentioned his lifestyle? Well, among all other weird things the guy eats bugs. Cockroaches. Living ones. And no, it's not 'cause of fad, he was bug-eating before it was cool. Carries a plastic container with him, occasionally pulls it out, grabs a couple and clamps them like popcorn. With a crunch.
He eats the big ones slow, from the head down. As they wriggle.
Leaves an impression on people around, that's for sure.

Normally this diet would've killed a person, since, you know, bacteria and stuff, but flesh golems are just built different. Problem is, human stomach cannot dissolve chitin and, thanks to the 'human-like' design philosophy, neither can his. So, after a food-binge from hearing the news, the prime candidate rode away for the nearest hospital to unclog his guts and do a general health check.

…As I said before, it's probably for the better. A weird possibly demonic person going to a weird possibly demonic place would've likely fit together a bit too well. Humanity doesn't need a Hellgate opening in the middle of Europe on top of all other things.
Also, associating with a company responsible would not look good on a resume… Or be light on conscience, I guess. No idea how it would feel to know that I could've saved the world by tripping a guy on a stairwell.

Whatever. The apocalypse was once again postponed, that's about it for now.

Back to the main topic.

The events above still left Dr. Bao – mentioned before as Boss-man – scrambling to find a replacement for the next couple months plus. The day after, HR delivered him a list of personnel that should, in theory, be able to hold the fort and handle the basic groundskeeping.

I, same as other low-level tech guys, was on the list. I also was pretty busy at the moment, so when a guy came over and asked me to sign a paper – I did just that. Sounds… irresponsible, I know, but at the time I kinda assumed it was a list for cleanup, safety training or whatever else. Casual inconsequential bureaucracy, you know.
So, when they called me with about a dozen other guys to meet the higher-ups, it was one hell of a surprise.

Boss-man made us an offer we could – but were heavily discouraged to – refuse. The other guys did anyway, probably wise to the tricks… or maybe just being locals and, therefore, more informed about the place.
Me? Well, I signed up, if it wasn't obvious. Not immediately, had to think it over… But I did. It didn't sound too bad at the time. Just a temporary assignment for a couple months with, like, quadrupled pay and some interesting future prospects based on performance. Sure as hell didn't tell me all the fun stuff I mentioned above… but, well, that's work for you.

I wasn't the only one, if you're wondering, there were people in other departments. But, in the end, the Boss-man chose me to go there. Alone.
He's a smart guy, Dr. Bao. Knows about the place a lot more than… pretty much anyone else, I think. He also knows that there are no irreplaceable people – only different costs of replacement.
And mine is pretty low.

Eh, it is what it is. I'm okay with it. It's not like I'm going there just for the money, though the paycheck does look nice.

It's just… How to put it..?

...I've been thinking a lot lately, before going to sleep. Terrible mistake, I know.
But it's bit hard for me to fall asleep, so I usually spend about half-an-hour just lying down, looking at the ceiling. Contemplating.
About life, my place in it, the story so far… you know, night thoughts. Everyone has them.

And, like, about a month ago I had this understanding that… well, that things gotta change somehow. I can't keep going like I did for the past... soon decades. I can't keep living like this, if it was a life to begin with.
No higher education, no place to call my own, all possessions stored in one big bag. No security in the present or plan for the future. Just sloshing around the continent like a turd in a toilet bowl, slowly drifting West.

And… well, for a teenager it's more or less expected, really, but I'm thirty-six. I'm halfway there. Things will only get worse as years pass, especially when the mid-life crisis hits.

Something gotta change. It can't go on like this. I have to do something.

I already failed as a man. It's too late to start a family. It's okay. Dying alone is just something I made peace with. But I can still ensure myself some comfort in the old age… or, at least, some padding in the bag when the next crisis comes knocking.

A decent life goal, all things considered. All that's left is getting there.
First, I need a plan or, at least, a direction to work in. Didn't really have time or energy for it before, always too caught up on the job… But, starting tomorrow, I'll be completely alone in the woods for whole two months. With little to no radio, no TV, zero internet connection and all needs more-or-less handled.
Nothing to distract.
No one to judge.
Just me and my thoughts.

And forest demons, I guess.

This whole thing is just one big horror movie setup, if you think about it. Kind of why I'm writing the journal in the first place.
Sure, it's also to collect my thoughts and, you know, compensate for lack of stimulation, but… You know, every good horror should have some mysterious diary for the main character to read. Who knows, it just might save your skin, mister protagonist. I'll try to write down everything that happens.
Just be mindful of the music ramping up and keep head on a swivel. Can't have you dying 'cause of my first writing attempt, can we?

…It also probably means you found the journal on the ground somewhere, probably near a blood splatter. Oh well, mortality is just another thing I made peace with.
Death, no matter how horrible, only happens once. It's nothing to be afraid of. In fact, if you think about it, it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to solve all your problems.
Won't be using it just yet, but if it happens – it happens.
But I have a good feeling about this. Doesn't happen very often, so... who knows, things just might work out.

…That's it for now. Will keep writing when I arrive at the place. Gotta catch some shut-eye in the meanwhile. What's the time, again?

Oh.

Well, better than nothing. See you soon.

'PROLOGUE'
END.

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