I have no context for any of these recordings; I just listen to them and write down what I hear.

The agency I work for, a very upscale, private, and off-the-books agency, provides transcription services for the government. We create a written record for things that have to be destroyed, so that the content can still be referenced if the need arises. Most of the time, we transcribe notes from meetings, clandestine recordings of conversations between parties that are... less than reputable, or personal notes from the science-y types who are working on very, very interesting things. Really, anything you can imagine comes through here. Just name it, I've probably transcribed it.

We guarantee that the information we record will never see the light of day. Which, as you can imagine, is really damn important. So all of us little typewriters have to be squeaky clean. Not so much as a parking ticket on our records. They want us to be underachievers, people who slip through the cracks and neither fail or succeed. Just the average guy who could vanish tomorrow without a trace without so much as a single question. That's important. We've had a few leaks in recent years, and a few people I knew personally are now on 'extended vacations.'

So it goes without saying that I'm taking a giant risk doing this. Why do it, then? Because I want to expose the truth? Because I'm tired of all the bullshit that gets thrown at me, and I want to oust some nasty people who, by all rights, deserve it?

Unfortunately, it's much more selfish and less glamorous than that.

I've had an opiate addiction for years. I broke my back in a freak accident when I was younger, and I've been in pain ever since. I got addicted to pain killers, Oxy specifically, and things have sort of spiraled down from there. So I guess the easiest way to describe it is just to say I'm a suicidal coward. I don't have the balls, or the ability, to do anything about it myself, but I'm damn tired of things. I'd love to do something about it, but even if I had the courage, I can't ever leave this job; you sign what is, quite literally, a lifetime contract. If I were to try and buy a gun, I'd be thrown in jail. They take workplace safety almost too seriously. I'm quite aware that there are more ways than shooting oneself to commit suicide, but like I said, I'm a coward. And frankly, if I screw up, the consequences for trying to get out of this contract are far worse than what little I've got now. I'll have my public name destroyed; any chance of a normal life would be gone. And there are much less pleasant places than jail they can send me to, believe me. So it's easier to just leak a little information here and there, and wait for the hammer to fall. One night I'll go to sleep, and the next I'll be another statistic. Another victim of the senseless gun violence here in America. How sad.

And to address the obvious question I'm sure everyone will be asking: it was the money. I make an absolutely disgusting salary, which I'd enjoy if I were able to. But the addiction kind of ruins it. Contrary to what most people who are on the poor side think, financial stability doesn't equate to happiness. Especially when you can't spend it on huge, loud luxuries that would make you stick out. But, like a lot of poor people who get high-paying jobs, when I joined I figured the money would fix things. Like a lot of really shitty decisions, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Anyway, one of my recent projects has been to transcribe some 911 calls that are... best left out of public scrutiny. The agency that hired us to transcribe, and then destroy, the tapes doesn't want the public to panic. I figured you guys might be interested in a few of those tapes. This is the first one.

Call starts

OPERATOR: "911, what city are you located in?"

CALLER: "Uh, Sisters."

OPERATOR: "Transferring."

CALLER: "Okay..."

Line transfers

OPERATOR: "911, what's the nature of your emergency?"

CALLER: "Yeah, I've got someone out here who's... Sounds like they're beatin' something to death."

Wind blows across the receiver. A distant howling can be heard.

OPERATOR: "And this is on your property?"

CALLER: "Yeah, I've got about ten acres back in the woods out here and- Jesus, can you hear that?"

OPERATOR: "Are you in any immediate danger, sir?"

CALLER: "No, no I just want someone to come out here and check it out."

OPERATOR: "What is your name, sir?"

"Uh, David Shale."

OPERATOR: "How do you spell that?"

CALLER: "S-H-A-L-E - look can you get someone out here quick? Whatever this guy's doing out here he's really hurting something. You can hear that, right?"

OPERATOR: "What's your address, Mr. Shale?"

CALLER: "Uh, 306 Juniper."

Wind

OPERATOR: "Okay, I'm sending a unit out to your location, but you're out pretty far, so it's gonna take them about fifteen minutes to get to you. You said you're not in any danger?"

CALLER: "No, no I'm fine, I've got a rifle in the house."

OPERATOR: "Okay, can you describe to me what the situation is?"

CALLER: "Well about ten minutes ago, I was in the living room and I started hearing this sound over the TV, so I turned it off and went out here on the deck. I thought I heard a guy talkin' somewhere past the edge of the yard, but I don't have lights out there so I couldn't really see anything. Then I heard this big thud, and now it sounds like there's a dog or a coyote out there that's gettin' beat to death. You can't hear it?"

Almost inaudible howling

OPERATOR: "No, sir. So you say it's been going on about ten minutes?"

CALLER: "Well, no, the howling's been going on about five, but-"

Wind

OPERATOR: "Are you there, David?"

Wind

OPERATOR: "Sir, are you there? David?"

CALLER: "Yeah, uh..."

OPERATOR: "Is everything alright?"

CALLER: "When did you say those guys are gonna be out here?"

OPERATOR: "The officer is on his way now. Is everything alright?"

CALLER: "Uh... Uh, yeah, everything's... What the hell?"

OPERATOR: "Sir, what's going on?"

CALLER: "Well nothin', it's just... Damn..."

OPERATOR: "Tell me what's going on-"

CALLER: "No it's fine, it's just- fuck, I can't see anything- the howling stopped, and I think there's a guy right on the edge of the yard... I can't tell... Hang on, I'm gonna-"

OPERATOR: "Sir, you need to stay on the line with me, don't approach-"

CALLER: "-turn on my phone's flashlight thing here-"

OPERATOR: "-them, okay?"

CALLER: "-for a sec."

Shuffling

OPERATOR: "Sir, are you there-?"

CALLER: "Shit!"

OPERATOR: "What's going on?"

CALLER: "Jesus!"

OPERATOR: "What's-"

CALLER: "There's a guy out here! You need to get someone out here quick, or I'm gonna get my rifle- Hey! This is private property! I've got the cops comin', you better leave!"

OPERATOR: "The police are on their way but you need to go back inside, sir, don't approach him."

CALLER: "Damn, he's- You may wanna send an- an ambulance out here or somethin', this guy's really fucked up."

OPERATOR: "What's going on with him?"

CALLER: "Well he's- he looks like he's been in an accident or somethin', like his skin looks all- Ugh!"

OPERATOR: "Sir, are you alright?"

CALLER: "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay, I'm-"

A very loud howling; it sounds like a wounded dog

CALLER: "Holy shit, do you hear that? Holy shit-!"

OPERATOR: "What is that? What's making that sound?"

CALLER: "He is! He's just- he's standing there with his mouth open and he's just screaming! Holy shit, I've never-"

Slam; howling is cut off

OPERATOR: "What was that? Sir?"

CALLER: "I, uh- panting I went back in, I'm inside. He's- he's still out there, just howling and looking at me and he's got no clothes, I don't think, I can't tell for sure."

OPERATOR: "Is he bleeding?"

CALLER: "No, no he's not bleeding but there's something wrong with his skin, it's- it's not right, I can't really tell-"

OPERATOR: "Is he armed?"

CALLER: "No, I don't think so. Holy shit, did you hear that?"

OPERATOR: "Yes; the police are about ten minutes away, so just hang tight with me, okay? Stay on the line, they're almost there."

CALLER: "Okay..."

Muffled scraping sounds

OPERATOR: "Sir?"

CALLER: "I'm just... I'm getting a flashlight so I can shine it out the door, I can't see him anymore..."

Phone is dropped, muffled talking can be heard in the background

OPERATOR: "Sir? What's going on?"

Something brushes against the receiver, caller fades into audible range

CALLER: "-motherfucker!"

OPERATOR: "Unit 9, can I get an update on location-?"

CALLER: "Son of a bitch-!"

OPERATOR: "Sir, the unit is only three minutes from you, is he trying to break in?"

CALLER: "No, he's still at the edge of the yard but I shined my light on him and he's got- you need to send someone out here 'cause there's something wrong with him, there's something-"

OPERATOR: "What do you mean? I need you to calm down and talk to me, tell me what's going on-"

CALLER: "-wrong with his skin, it's like it's- it's not even skin, it's- oh fuck! Fuck!"

OPERATOR: "Sir-"

CALLER: "-he's at the door! He's at the door, oh my God what is this? His skin's made of- of fingernails or something- It's hard and it's like- like scales but I swear to god they're fingernails, like thousands of- Get out of here! The cops are comin', you gotta-"

Extremely loud, pained, dog-like howling

CALLER: "Fuck, fuck! Oh thank God, I can see the car, I can see the car- Oh, he's running! He's running back into the woods!"

Inaudible talking

OPERATOR: "Sir, the police are there, they're outside-"

Caller opens a door

CALLER: "-out back, he's heading into the woods! Yeah, yeah right out there! Shit! Fuck!"

Call is disconnected

Interesting, isn't it? I wish I had some context around it, but of course that's impossible. Either way, there's a lot more where that came from. Assuming I'm alive in the coming days, maybe I'll post more. I guess we'll have to see, won't we?