"Screen Scream"

The idea for a story can come from anywhere.  An offhand comment in a chat during an artist's streaming video can lead to an idea for a narrative.  This story comes from reminiscing about working with older computers and hearing the signature whine of an older monitor that is on.  

While forming the story a challenging thought occurred to me.  Develop a story without revealing the gender of the main character.  The easiest way to do this would be to simply repeat the character's name and not use any pronouns.  To me, that would be a cheat.  It takes more skill and thought to craft a tale without any he/she or his/hers.

Julian was one of those employees that bosses loved. Quiet, efficient, first one in last one out, getting work done enough before a deadline to pick up the slack left by other workers. Julian's body sat so stiff and erect at the desk, the office motion detectors would shut the lights off under the assumption that everyone had left for the night. It was a common occurrence for the night cleaning staff to happen across Julian writing code in a dark office, the only light coming from the computer screen and reflecting off Julian's face. Tonight was exceptional only in that the cleaning crews had finished all the offices scheduled for that day gone home.

Julian was nearing the end of this particular subroutine at an hour closer to dawn than dusk. A few more keystrokes, a couple clicks of a mouse, and a press of the ENTER key made with a sense of completion signaled the last of the necessary code being completed. Julian sat back and stretched, the lights blinking on as there was finally enough movement to trigger the sensors.

Julian initialized the compiler and set it on the new code to check for errors. Julian knew there wouldn't be any, but the executives upstairs insisted a compiler report accompany every piece of programming. It was a necessary task with some of the programmers that worked for this company, but Julian had yet to make a single error. Too much time and attention to detail was spent for that to happen.

Julian gave the room a look around as the code was crunched and checked. Every piece of equipment was the latest technology on the market. Top of the line monitors connected to network terminals accessing enough processing power to make the guys at NASA drool. The only exception was a single piece of equipment that sat on a pedestal in the middle of the office. It was a throwback computer that belonged in a museum, not the main work floor of a modern technology company. Its presence was a reminder of where the company had started. Julian found it a lot less creepy than some oil painting on the wall of some creepy dude leering at everyone while they worked.

Julian stood as the computer beeped that the compiler was finished. As expected, there were no errors with the entered code. A few clicks of the mouse emailed the necessary files to the executives upstairs. Then it was a simple matter of powering down the terminal and heading home for a long weekend of rest.

Turning towards the door to leave, Julian heard an odd yet familiar sound. It was a high-pitched electronic whine. The last time Julian heard that particular tone was during early computer courses. It was the sound of an old monitor that remained on after the attached computer was shut off. Julian had always thought of that sound as “screen scream.”

Julian looked around the room once again, searching for the source of the sound. All of the modern monitors automatically went to sleep when the terminal was shut down. That only left the classic computer that was on display in the middle of the room. However, Julian could clearly see the back of the display, and there was no power cord to the computer or monitor. Still, the screaming sound continued.

Julian walked around the old system without losing eye contact with the plastic case. Coming around to the front, Julian saw the monitor giving off the green glow that matched the sound of the screaming whine. The sight of a monitor glowing with no source of power made Julian begin to seriously consider taking an overdue vacation.

Julian noticed that the glowing screen wasn't blank. Blocks of shifting and changing pixels dominated the majority of the display. Underneath that three lines of programming code flashed by so fast Julian couldn't see enough to make any sense of it. After a minute Julian's eyes wandered up to the shifting picture above the lines of code. The random shifting pixels seemed to periodically form pictures for a second or two. Faces seemed to resolve in the green glow of the monitor before changing into random images again. The low resolution of the screen didn't allow Julian to recognize too many of the details of each face, but none of them looked particularly happy.

After a minute of hypnotic staring at the monitor and its strange projections, Julian slowly reached out to press the power button. A strange feeling came over Julian before any pressure could be applied to the switch to stop the display being shown. It was a feeling as though every hair on Julian's body was being lifted. They weren't standing up like on a chilly evening or during an emotional song. It was more a sensation like every hair was being pulled up by some external force.

Julian could no longer look away from the faces coming and going on the screen. As a matter of fact, the faces seemed to be getting larger and closer. All sensation seemed to be leaving Julian's body. Just an odd sense of floating remained as the faces that flashed on the screen became clearer and the high pitched scream from the monitor got louder.

Julian started to scream, the tone and pitch starting to blend and match with the scream of the screen. In a bright flash of green, both screams suddenly went silent. The office lights automatically shut off fifteen minutes later since the motion detectors hadn't sensed any movement during that time.

Julian couldn't see or feel anyone around. There was only a sense of many people crowded into a small space. There was an overwhelming darkness. All that was visible was random pieces of code that flittered around the air. Julian felt the desire to get someone's attention, to get some help leaving this other place. Maybe a loud enough scream would work..

Leave a comment below letting me know what you think of my first attempt at a suspenseful/horror story.

Work in Progress-- Post Exodus

There are many books available about the Apocalypse.  Some predict what will lead up to the end of mankind.  Others chronicle the struggles of humanity after the majority of civilization has been wiped out.  A few even tell the stories of those attempting to prevent or avoid the End of Times.

What if all the nations of the world came together to avoid a planet-wide tragedy that doesn't happen?  What happens to those that remained behind?  How will humanity survive and change for the next few generations?  

These are the questions I ponder on my current work in progress, Post Exodus.  A young man leaves his family farm lands to travel the country.  He visits small villages and towns delivering messages and carrying packages in exchange for supplies and a single night's shelter.  

 The piked heads on the road and the fact the vehicles were deliberately headed to this dead end told me that these people knew more about the area than I did. Some inner instinct told me that me being a messenger is something that would only be discovered after it was too late to save me from a fate similar to those back up the road. A sense of fear mixed with a degree of curiosity about the people that could perpetrate such violence and not wipe themselves out within a couple of years. I felt the need to see these people more closely yet do so from a discreet distance. I picked up my bike and carried it as I ran to the edge of the road. There were numerous trees on each side of the road, plenty of places for me to hide until the oncoming vehicles left. I managed to get myself and my bike out of sight before the roaring engines changed into visible vehicles. I could still see the disconnected ends of the bridge and areas around the opposite side from my hiding place. As long as nobody in the vehicles looked directly towards me, they wouldn't know I was even there.

As the vehicles came into sight I could tell they had been modified. The three cars and one pickup truck looked nothing like the abandoned cars and trucks I had seen around my hometown and parked on the sides of some of the larger highways I had ridden across. These had sheets of metal neatly attached over the windows. There was also a person armed with a machine gun sticking up out of the roof of each car. There were two guys standing carefully balanced in the back of the pickup. Each of them was armed with a machine gun in their hands and what appeared to be a shotgun holstered to their backs. Everybody I could see was carefully looking around. Their hands weren't gripping the triggers of their weapons, but they were held close enough to quickly fire off a few rounds at a second's notice. It was clear this was no simple group out for a leisurely drive. They clearly had violence in mind. What I couldn't figure out was who they intended to be so violent to. They were the only people I had seen in a week, there was nobody around for them to victimize.

I kept myself absolutely still as the vehicles approached the end of the road. A large individual got out of the lead car. He was both tall and stoutly built. He didn't so much step out the door as he extracted himself from the side of the car. He walked to the very edge of the road. The river was flowing strongly far below his feet. After a few seconds of staring across the water he turned to the vehicles, looked stonily at them, and turned back to the opposite side of the river. He bellowed in a voice that seemed to come from deep within the Earth itself. I could hear his words echoing off the far bank as clearly as though I was right in front of him. He was calling for someone named Jack to get his hands out of his pants and raise the God-damn bridge. The threats being made to Jack's person if he didn't get moving were enough to make my skin crawl. If I hadn't been doing my best to keep still and avoid notice, I would have cringed with each word on Jack's behalf.