Mr. Talkbox

“The suspects are still at large. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of either of these two, please call the number on the screen.” Ivan Camp sat in his living room, glancing over the day’s mail on a Saturday afternoon, while the news played on the television. “Pft… Another murder? What’s the world coming to?” he asked under his breath. “Can’t be too careful these days, even in a nicer part of town like this, apparently…” he muttered bitterly. There came a knock at the front door, and Ivan turned off the television. “Be right there!” he called, as he turned and began to make his way to the door. However, his excitable six-year-old daughter Hailey beat him to the door, excitedly pulling at the knob and opening the door. Ever the overprotective parent, Ivan blurted out. “Hey, Hailey! What have I told you about opening the door without seeing who’s there first?” he asked. His daughter giggled and rolled her blue eyes. “Don’t be silly dad. How can I see who’s there without opening the door?” she asked. Ivan sighed, admittedly at a loss. “Besides, it’s just Brooke, see?” she said, throwing the door open to reveal her best friend, Brooke Henning, a seven-year old girl who lived just next door with her parents. Brooke had blue eyes and a head of straight brunette hair, in contrast to Hailey’s head of curly blonde hair that she got from her mother.

Ivan sighed, feeling slightly deflated. “Hey, Brooke… Do your parents know you’re out?” he asked. Brooke nodded. “Yes sir, Mr. Camp! Can Brooke come play outside for a little while before it gets dark?” she asked innocently. Ivan laughed and nodded. “Well… Alright, for a little while. Be back in an hour, okay? And you know the rules, don’t go more than three houses away, and stay together. You got it?” Brooke nodded. “We got it, Mr. Camp!” Hailey rolled her eyes and giggled. “C’mon Brooke, let’s go next door and pet Mr. Burke’s dogs!” The two girls turned and ran outside to play, leaving Ivan standing alone in the living room. A familiar voice laughed and called out to him from behind. “Good for you, dear. You’re getting better at letting Hailey be a little independent, you know.” she said with a smile. “I’m really glad you’re working on it… She needs to get out and play if she wants to grow! She’s not old enough to roam the neighborhood of course, but staying right on our safe little side street isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

Ivan shook his head. “Nah… I guess not. I know I tend to be too overprotective. I’m working on it… Just, it’s our daughter, you know? It’s not something you can replace.” His wife laughed. “I know dear, I gave birth to her. Try to relax, okay? She’ll be fine! Now come on, if you wanna get your mind off of it, how about helping me make dinner?” Ivan laughed and rolled his eyes. “Oh joy. Alright.” he said, meandering over and joining his wife in the kitchen.

Time went on, and as Ivan had requested, Brooke and Hailey returned within the hour. Hailey walked into the house happily, closing the door behind her loudly to signal her arrival. “Hey, not so rough with the door, Hailey! Welcome back, dear. Dinner’s about ready, so go on and sit at the table, okay?” Hailey nodded and did as requested, excitedly taking her place at the family’s wooden dinner table as her parents splayed dishes of food out in the center of the table.

Soon after, the family sat around eating, discussing their respective days. Ivan worked for the city’s police department as a cyber security officer, often spending days watching for suspicious or alarming activity that was indicative of criminal activity. His wife, meanwhile, was a teacher at the local elementary school. “So dear, what did you and Brooke do outside today?” her mother asked happily. Hailey beamed as she began to describe her outing. “Well, we went over and pet Mr. Burke’s dogs first! And then we went across the street and tried to climb that big tree, but we’re still not tall enough, I think… And then we went and skipped rocks at the lake! Oh! And I made a new friend, too! His name is Mr. Talkbox!” she said happily.

Ivan laughed and humored his young daughter. “Oh? Mr. Talkbox, huh?” he asked. “And where did you meet Mr. Talkbox?” Hailey smiled. “Oh, he’s just a box a couple of doors down that we found! He’s really nice!” she explained. “I asked him if the ducks at the lake would let me swim with them, but he said only if they like me… Do you think they’d like me, dad?” Ivan was caught off guard by this odd question from his daughter, but then he quickly collected himself. “Huh? O-oh! Um… Yeah, sure honey. Why wouldn’t they? We’ll take you to meet the ducks and feed them sometime soon, okay? I promise.” Hailey beamed. “Yayyy! Okay! Thanks, dad!” Ivan laughed. “Sure dear. Now come on, eat up.”

The rest of dinner was rather uneventful, with the family eating in relative silence. That night, after Hailey was in bed, Ivan sat in his own bed with his wife, reading a book. Suddenly, his wife chuckled. Ivan looked over at her. “What is it, dear? Did I put my pajamas on backwards again…?” he asked with a laugh. His wife shook her head, staring up at the ceiling. “No, no… Just thinking of Hailey’s newest imaginary friend. Let’s see, she had Hoppy, the invisible bunny… Then she had Bruce, the invisible baby sheep…” Ivan nodded, thinking back. “Hmm… Yeah, and then there was Mary, the doll…” “Oh yeah, I remember Mary! She sure ended up pretty ratty, Hailey dragged her everywhere… But I’m impressed with the new one. Mr. Talkbox, huh? I don’t think I would have thought of anything that creative, even as a little girl.” “Yeah, I know what you mean… A box is kind of an odd choice for a friend, but… then again, I guess it beats those kids that have pet rocks.” Ivan said with a shrug. “Well, goodnight honey… See you tomorrow.” With that, Ivan turned the light off, and soon dozed off to sleep for the night.

The next day was a clear, humid Sunday. That morning after breakfast, Brooke again appeared at the door, asking Hailey to go play. Ivan and his wife agreed, and Hailey and her best friend excitedly barreled out the door, disappearing for about an hour. This time, when Hailey returned home, she seemed to be giggling about something. Ivan and his wife were sitting in the living room when Hailey returned, a goofy smile on her face. Hailey’s mother looked up from the clothes she was folding and smiled at her daughter. “Well you seem excited, honey! What’d you do outside today? Did you manage to meet the ducks?” she asked humorously. Hailey shook her head. “Noooo, guess again!” she said playfully. Her mother laughed and shook her head. “Alright, I give up. Hey, whatcha got there, honey?” she asked curiously, noticing that Hailey seemed to be holding something behind her back.

Hailey beamed happily. “It’s a gift! See?” she said excitedly, as she suddenly brandished a dusty, ancient-looking skull displaying it proudly for her parents to see. The macabre skull’s expression and shape was oddly gnarled, as if it had belonged to some terribly deformed creature. Her mother gasped and nearly dropped the shirt she was holding, and her father’s eyes widened. Ivan tried to maintain his composure as he questioned his daughter, his face slightly pale. “H-honey, where did you get that…? It’s a gift from who?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. Her mother quickly grabbed the skull from her, placing it by itself on the living room table. “Come on honey, let’s go wash your hands… You don’t know where that thing’s been!” she said, a worried expression on her face as well. Unable to understand why her parents seemed so shocked, Hailey nodded. “Oh… Okay, mom…” she said, a slightly confused look on her face.

While his daughter and wife washed their hands, Ivan stared at the deformed skull with a disgusted look. The skull had a chilling, slightly ominous air about it. Its odd, flattened features made it hard to tell what animal it came from, and its twisted expression was quite unnerving. Ivan shivered as he stared at the skull, and finally managed to tear his expression away just as his wife and daughter walked back into the room. His wife took another look at the skull and shuddered. “Ugh… Honey, I don’t want this skull in here, it’s… just creepy. Go throw it out!” she said to her daughter. Hailey shook her head and protested. “But, it was a gift! I like it! And you always say it’s rude to throw a gift away!” she said. Ivan sighed. “Y-yes, I know dear, but this is different… Look, just… Where did you get it, honey? You said it was a gift, right? So, who gave it to you?” he asked again.

“Mr. Talkbox gave it to me! He’s super nice!” Hailey said happily. Ivan scratched his head. “A box gave you a skull…?” he asked, confused. “I don’t understand, Hailey… Where’d you find it?” “I told you dad, Mr. Talkbox gave it to me! He said I could come into his house and take something home as a gift if I wanted, so I took that!” Ivan was appalled to hear his daughter mention going into a stranger’s house. “What!? Hailey, you know you’re never, ever supposed to go into a stranger’s house!” he said, trying to remain calm. “You don’t know who lives there; Absolutely anyone could be in there!” Hailey began to look upset. “But… but only Mr. Talkbox lives there! He’s not a stranger!” she argued, her eyes tearing up slightly. Her mother sighed and knelt down, wrapping her arms around her daughter to comfort her. “It’s okay, dear… I tell you what, let’s go pay Mr. Talkbox a visit, okay? What do you think? Your dad and I would really love to talk to him!” she said with a smile. “And, maybe we can clear these things up while we’re there…” she muttered, staring at the skull again. “Isn’t that right, honey?”

Ivan sighed and collected himself. “Y-yeah… You’re right, dear… Hailey, can you show us where Mr. Talkbox is?” Hailey nodded happily. “Uh-huh! Follow me!” she said with a grin, excitedly running to the front door and out into the front yard. Ivan shook his head. “If this ‘Mr. Talkbox’ is some freak preying on our daughter, I’ll never forgive them…” he muttered angrily. His wife sighed and clasped him on the back. “I know dear, let’s just… go deal with this, okay…?” she said quietly, her brow furrowed with worry.

Hailey’s parents followed her out into the yard, and then up the quiet street. They passed Mr. Burke’s house, as well as the Fleming’s house next to it, stopping in front of the house just beyond. Contrary to the well-kept lawns and shrubbery of the surrounding houses, the large, manor-like house on this plot seemed to be falling apart, and the grass and flora of the run-down estate’s lawn was both overgrown and dying. The dilapidated house was quite an eyesore compared to the other, neatly arranged houses of the quaint neighborhood. Hailey stopped at the foot of the old manor’s driveway, where the gate to the house was hanging open. “Here we are! This is Mr. Talkbox’s house!” she said excitedly. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you!” she said, turning and running up the driveway toward the manor’s old porch. Ivan called out after her. “Hailey, wait! That house is falling apart, be careful!” he yelled. She didn’t seem to hear him. His wife looked over the house with a worried expression. “This place is a mess… Whoever lives here must not care at all about keeping up appearances…” she muttered. “Oh! That’s odd…Does someone really live here? Look at that, honey.” she said, pointing to a small sign posted in the overgrown grass of the lawn. The sign, which was rather hard to see among the tall grass, read ‘PROPERTY CONDEMNED: BUILDING UNSTABLE. NO TRESPASSING!’ Ivan quickly noted the address and jotted it down on a small piece of paper that he pulled from his pocket, as his wife called after Hailey. “Come on dear, we have to go get her, no one’s allowed on this property! She might get hurt!”

Ivan and his wife quickly ran after their daughter, joining her on the manor’s old porch, which was obviously quite decayed from age. Hailey smiled at her parents as they approached. “Hey, mom, dad! This is Mr. Talkbox!” she said, motioning to a wooden, box-shaped intercom next to the manor’s large front doors. Ivan shook his head. “Come on, honey… This property is condemned, no one’s allowed on it. You need to stay away from here from now on, understand?” Hailey shook her head, pouting slightly. “But, Mr. Talkbox lives here! How will I get to talk to him again? At least say hi while you’re here! Heyyyy, Mr. Talkbox!” she chirred, waving at the dusty wooden intercom. Ivan sighed and grabbed his daughter by the hand. “Come on dear, let’s get you home…” he started. Suddenly, the intercom seemed to buzz to life, and a man’s voice could be heard on the other end. “Oh, welcome back, Hailey. I see you brought your parents with you this time.” the voice said politely. The voice was slightly raspy, and sounded like it belonged to a well-educated, elderly man. Hailey nodded. “Yup! Mr. Talkbox, this is mom and dad!” The intercom crackled to life again. “Nice to meet you, mom and dad. I am Mr. Talkbox.”

Hailey’s parents were shocked to hear an actual person’s voice on the intercom of such an abandoned-looking estate. “What…? You mean someone is actually living in this condemned house!?” he asked, unable to believe it. The voice on the intercom chuckled. “Oh no, no one has lived in this house for years now… I’m the only one here! Just me, Mr. Talkbox!” the voice said happily. Ivan spoke to the man angrily. “Mr. Talkbox, huh? Well listen up, weirdo. My name’s Ivan. Ivan Camp. My wife and I have a serious issue we’d like to discuss with you. Do you really think it’s okay to invite little girls into your house and give them things like skulls to take home? Huh?” The intercom was silent for a moment, but then whirred again. “Oh, she took a skull home? Wow, quite a dark selection for a little girl! Then again, I did tell her she could take whatever she wanted. Kids do the darndest things, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Camp?” the man asked brightly. Ivan shook his head and spoke again, outraged. “That’s not the point! Answer me! Do you just coax little kids in with the promise of gifts? I work all day trying to make sure people like you are put behind bars!” he said angrily. Hailey tugged at his dad’s pants leg. “Hey, dad! Why are you being so mean?” she asked, looking upset.

The man on the intercom spoke again. “Oh, my. It seems we got off on the wrong foot. Well, no one’s lived here for a long time, so when your daughter said hello and talked to me for a while, I thought she’d like to take something home. She may as well, the things in this house are just going to waste otherwise!” Ivan scoffed and knocked on the manor’s old door furiously, tugging at the door handle. The door appeared to be firmly locked. “If you’re not worried, then come to the door and talk in person, why don’t you!?” he said, pulling on the old brass doorknob to no avail. The man on the intercom chuckled again. “I’m sorry Mr. Camp, but I’m just a talk box! Or, a series of talk boxes, really. I don’t have legs!” he said playfully. Ivan was enraged that this strange man would play games with him like this. “I’m not in the mood for games, sir. Come open the door, already! Don’t make me break this door down!” he yelled. “What’s your name, you coward? I’ll have you looked into, believe me! The police will be at your door in no time!”

The man on the intercom continued to speak calmly and politely. “Well, people usually call me Mr. Talkbox, so I just go by that! As I told you, I don’t have legs, I’m just a talkbox! My apologies, Mr. Camp. Forgive me, but isn’t this property condemned now? I do believe you’re not supposed to be here at all, correct?” Ivan scoffed. “I could say the same to you, living in a condemned house! Are you just a homeless old man?” The voice chuckled again. “Oh my. You’re quite amusing. I told you, no one lives here! It’s just me, Mr. Voicebox… It does get lonely sometimes, so it was nice having your daughter say hello.”

Hailey tugged harder at her father’s pants leg. “C’mon dad, if you’re gonna be mean to Mr. Talkbox, let’s just go!” she said, trying to pull him away from the door. Seeing her frustrated daughter, Ivan’s wife tapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, honey… This is getting us nowhere… Let’s go.” she whispered to him. Seeing no alternatives, the frustrated Ivan yelled once more into the intercom. “Fine! If you won’t come open this door, then I’ll have no choice but to go to the police about it! You haven’t heard the last of this!” The voice on the intercom sparked to life once more. “Oh my… Well, I’m not sure what good that will do you, but best of luck to you, Mr. Camp. Have a nice evening!”

Soon after, a fuming Ivan was led back home by his wife and daughter. Immediately upon returning home, Hailey took the skull and retired to her room, and Ivan made a call to the city’s police department. A rather monotone-sounding woman answered the phone. “Hello, Palmont police, can I help you?” “Yes, I’d like to report a suspicious individual, please…” Ivan said. “Yes sir, and who is it that’s calling?” “Ivan. Ivan Camp.” “Very well, Mr. Camp… One moment, let me transfer you to someone in the detective unit.” There was an audible click, followed by the ringing of a phone, until a man picked up. “Hello, Palmont police, chief detective Crowley speaking.” Ivan breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good… Hello, sir. My name’s Ivan Camp. I’d like to report a suspicious individual located at… let’s see…” he murmured, as he fished the piece of paper out of his pocket. “4315 Dove Lane.” he concluded.

“I see… Alright, well one moment, and I’ll pull up that location on the database… While I’m doing that, can you explain what this suspicious individual is doing, please?” Ivan nodded. “Gladly. This morning he invited my eight-year-old daughter into his old house, giving her a gift to take home. She brought the skull of some animal home! We tried going over and talking to him, but the door was locked, and he only spoke through an intercom. When we demanded that he come to the door, he just kept saying that he was just a ‘talkbox’, which I guess means intercom, and that he didn’t have legs. I wonder if this guy is a cultist or something, or just some kind of lunatic!” he mused angrily. The detective replied calmly. “Hmm… And you’ve never once actually seen this man? That is strange… I can see why you’re concerned. Don’t worry Mr. Camp, we’ll do what we can here. One moment, I’ve got the address pulled up here…” There was silence for a long moment, and then the detective spoke again. “Well… According to what I have here, that property is condemned, Mr. Camp… Isn’t that the case?” he asked. “Yes, it is!” Ivan said. “The place is unstable and falling apart, so it’s shocking that some weirdo is still living in it!” Ivan heard the detective typing away on the other end of the line. “Let’s see…” he murmured. “Oh, wow… Well, the last person to live there moved out nearly fourteen years ago, so it’s no wonder the place has fallen into such disrepair. The last occupant was a Mr. Jack Spicer. He was a polite but eccentric character… Apparently he made a living as a fortune teller, as well as a gadgeteer of sorts. He loved to fiddle with machines, including intercoms and recorders. In fact, he was likely the one who installed the intercom you’re talking about… Anyway, it says here that he eventually couldn’t afford the house note, so he had to give the house up and move out to an apartment in another city. That was almost fourteen years ago… No one’s lived there since. If someone’s in there now, they’re just hiding out in there. You say he won’t come to the door? Hmm… Well, we can send a unit out to look into it, but that place is condemned due to instability. It would be dangerous to send someone inside. But perhaps if an officer talks to him through the intercom, we can coax him out… What do you think?”

Ivan breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, please! That would be great, thanks so much.” The detective nodded. “No problem sir, just doing our job. That address is close by, we should have someone there in roughly ten minutes. Thanks for bringing this to our attention. Have a good afternoon, Mr. Camp.” With that, there was another click as the detective hung up, and Ivan did the same, sighing and laying back on his couch for a few minutes. After a brief respite, he stood back up and headed outside, making his way over to the old manor and waiting for the police unit to arrive. Sure enough, a few minutes later, he heard the blaring sound of police sirens approaching as a squad car soon rounded the corner, stopping and parking on the street just in front of the old house. A blonde, muscular police officer quickly got out of the car and greeted Ivan. “Good afternoon. Officer Michael Jennings. We got a call from a Mr. Ivan Camp about someone holed up in this place? You’re Mr. Camp, I assume?” he asked. Ivan nodded. “Yes sir, I am. My family and I live a couple doors down.” he explained, pointing toward his house. The officer nodded. “I see, I see. Alright, well… This place definitely looks condemned for a reason… This building has a lot of structural faults. It’s only a matter of time before it collapses one of these days. It’s a real shame, I bet it’d look great all fixed up.” he admitted, scratching his head of short hair. “Anyway, you say the guy only talks through an intercom? Alright… Well, we can head onto the porch and try it out, then… I don’t really feel comfortable going inside unless absolutely necessary, though… You can come with me if you like, just stay close, please.”

Ivan nodded and did as instructed, accompanying the officer up the old driveway. The cracked driveway had weeds and foliage growing in between its cracks, and parts of the driveway were beginning to be encroached upon by moss, if they had not already eroded away completely. The officer and Ivan stepped up onto the porch, and the officer knocked on the door loudly. “Hello? Officer Michael Jennings, Palmont police! Open up!” There was silence on the other side. Officer Jennings knocked again, and he was once again greeted by silence. After a moment, he sighed and looked down at the intercom. He looked at Ivan and pointed to the intercom. “This is the intercom, I guess…?” he asked. Ivan nodded, and the officer spoke into the intercom. “Alright, sir… I understand you like to speak through intercoms? Fine. I need to ask you a few questions, so I suggest you respond.” Again, there was no answer. After a few moments, Ivan sighed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I swear to you officer, just earlier he was here! You’ve got to believe me!” The officer nodded. “Relax, Mr. Camp. I believe you. This kind of thing happens fairly regularly when criminal activity is involved.” He turned to the intercom and spoke again. “This is your last chance! Open up! You have thirty seconds!” he demanded. He and Ivan waited in tense silence until thirty seconds had come and gone, and then the officer sighed again. “Huh. Go figure. I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way…” he muttered. “Like I said, I don’t really feel comfortable going in here, but if someone really is holed up in here, we need to drive them out anyway… I’ll go in and look around.”

“Wait officer… Do you mind if I go with you? This whole thing is kind of personal for me at this point… I hope you don’t mind.” The officer shook his head, and then laughed. “Well, I just told you how unstable this building is. I don’t feel great letting a civilian in… I’ll tell you what. You can follow me in if you stick close to me, but just remember, I take no responsibility for your safety. I’d rather you stay outside, but if you absolutely insist, then you can take the risk. Fair enough?” Ivan nodded. “I understand. Thank you, officer.” With that, officer Jennings turned and grasped the door knob, turning it at an angle and forcing the old wood apart with a thrust of his palm. Amazingly, the door came open with a popping sound. Officer Jennings sighed with relief. “Thank goodness that worked. That works sometimes with these old buildings… It saves me having to go get the battering ram.” he said with a laugh. His expression then turned serious, and he motioned for Ivan to follow, as he carefully propped the door open and headed into the old manor, drawing his pistol.

Inside, the pair were greeted by a large, impressive-looking foyer, with a twin staircase ascending to the second floor. The right side of the twin staircase had collapsed, and the entire place was covered in a thin layer of dust. The once grand carpet on the stairs now had holes bored into it, likely from the rats that could be heard behind the old walls. The curtains surrounding the dust-coated windows were also torn and ragged, their once vibrant red color now faded with age. Ivan spotted two more intercoms that were built into the old oaken walls of the large room. The inside of the old manor was very quiet, except for the squeak of a few rats, and a quiet humming that could be heard all over, as if behind the walls. Ivan noticed a small parlor table, where a few odd skulls were displayed. This is probably where his daughter got the skull, he surmised. Officer Jennings motioned for Ivan to follow as he slowly moved across the old foyer and into a side room, which appeared to be a large dining room. There was no one here, either. Ivan could see that a piece of the ceiling had collapsed in this room, the wreckage just in front of a large marble fireplace. A group of rats was scurrying around near the fireplace, apparently using it as their nest. There was yet another intercom built into the wall, next to the fireplace. Officer Jennings called out. “Hello? We know you’re here, sir… There’s no use hiding from us! It’s only a matter of time until we find you. Don’t make this hard on yourself!” he said, as he led the way back into the foyer. He poked his head into a small bathroom, again finding nothing but more dust, debris, rats, and another intercom. Ivan squirmed and brushed away a small spider that had descended onto his sleeve from somewhere up above. “Maybe we should check upstairs…?” he asked officer Jennings quietly. “Yeah… Let’s do that. Let’s be careful heading up the stairs…” he murmured, as he led the way to the staircase and began to ascend the left set of stairs. Ivan carefully followed him, and thankfully no casualties occurred during their ascent.

Once upstairs, Officer Jennings opened an ornate but dusty wooden door, which led to a master bedroom. Yet again, two more intercoms were present in this room, but there was no person to be found. Down the upstairs hall, another door was opened to reveal a closet with another dusty intercom built in. Officer Jennings scratched his head. “Boy, the guy who last lived here really loved his intercoms… There’s at least one in every single room...” he muttered, as he proceeded down the hall and opened the last door on the left, revealing a second bathroom. Finally, he proceeded down to the other end of the hall and opened the glass door to the roofed balcony that was built onto the back of the house. Even here, three intercoms were built into the outside wall, but there wasn’t another soul in sight. Officer Jennings scratched his head. “Huh… Strange…” he murmured, doubling back and starting to re-check rooms. “We looked at this place before coming here… There’s no attic or basement, oddly enough. Apparently there used to be an attic, until the guy who used to live here removed it and installed machinery up there instead… I guess he needed the room up there to wire all these intercoms.” he said with a laugh. The officer and Ivan checked and rechecked every single room of the place, but just as the man on the intercom had said earlier that day, it really seemed that no one lived here.

Ivan grew frustrated as the search turned up fruitless again and again. “I know you can hear me! Why don’t you say something!?” he yelled. His angry query was met with a still silence. Officer Jennings sighed and removed his hat briefly. “Well, Mr. Camp, I hate to say it, but this house looks empty to me. Did you tell this man that you were going to call the police? If that’s the case, it’s quite likely that he ran away before we arrived. We’d issue a search, but we don’t even know the man’s name, or looks, or anything else… It’d be next to impossible to find him without some kind of clue, and I haven’t found any sort of trace that anyone’s ever been here… There aren’t even any footprints in the dust here except our own.”

Deflated, Ivan sighed and shook his head. “This still doesn’t sit well with me, but you might be right… Maybe he did run away… Well, I understand. Thank you for your time, officer Jennings.” The officer nodded. “No problem, Mr. Camp. I’ll put in a file at the station, and we’ll let you know if we find anything out about this whole ordeal. Now follow me, please.” Officer Jennings led the way as the two of them vacated the house, closing the large front doors behind them. Ivan accompanied Jennings to his squad car, and wished him well. “Alright, Mr. Camp. You have a nice evening. We’ll keep you updated.” he said, before getting back into his squad car and driving off. Ivan sighed, giving the manor one last disdainful look before returning home, telling his wife about the fruitless venture. “Oh, I see… I’m sorry honey… Well the officer is probably right! No one’s there, and the intercoms were all quiet… He probably left. I imagine you scared him the first time!” she said. “Just get some sleep tonight, dear… Hopefully we can put all this behind us and feel better in the morning.”

That night, however, Ivan drifted off to sleep only to have a nightmare about the skull that his daughter had been given. He awoke after dreaming of being laughed at by a gigantic intercom, and sat up in his bed in a cold sweat. He looked over at the clock and saw that it read 1:15 a.m. His wife was still sleeping soundly next to him. After a few moments of silence, Ivan shook his head. “This is ridiculous… I know that man is still there! Cowards like him make me sick… I’ll bet he’s over there right now, mocking me...” he muttered quietly to himself. Finally, determined to find the man behind the intercoms at any cost, he quietly got out of bed and dressed himself in loose-fitting clothes, a light jacket, and a hat, as he quietly snuck out of his house, before making his way over to the old manor in the middle of the cold night.

As he stepped onto the manor’s old, rotting porch, he tugged on the doorknob and saw that the door was still open from when he had gone inside earlier. As he began opening the door, the intercom suddenly crackled, and a familiar man’s voice could be heard, its diction as polite as ever. “Mr. Camp? Is that you? It’s nice to see you again, but it’s quite late to be out, don’t you think?” the voice asked. Ivan laughed feverishly. “HA! I knew you were still here! I’m gonna find you, old man! And when I do, it isn’t going to be pretty!” he said, nearly screaming at the intercom. “Old man? I’m just a talkbox, Mr. Camp. Or, a series of talkboxes, really…” Ivan huffed angrily. “Shut up!” he demanded, throwing a punch at the old intercom and crudely smashing it. A few sparks flew from the broken intercom as Ivan proceeded inside through the manor’s large front doors.

Once inside, he was greeted by the same large, decrepit room, which looked as abandoned as ever. He could still hear the faint humming he had heard last time he was here. Nothing seemed different. However, this time an intercom near him whirred, and the man’s voice returned. “Come now, Mr. Camp. Surely this isn’t how you treat all your neighbors!” the voice said. Ivan grunted angrily and threw another strong punch, crushing the intercom that was emitting the voice. “I’ll smash every intercom in this place if I have to! I will find you!” he screamed. The man’s voice returned, projected by another intercom on the other side of the room. “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Camp? You’ve already found me! And I’d sincerely appreciate it if you’d stop crushing my talkboxes… I can’t talk anymore without them, you know!” The man’s polite demeanor only angered Ivan further, who was convinced that the man was treating this whole ordeal as a sort of game. He immediately strode over and crushed the other intercom in the room that was now speaking, sending sparks flying, and then stumbled over into the kitchen, searching for trap doors or hidden rooms of any kind. He searched the kitchen from top to bottom, angrily breaking three more intercoms that he found during the search. Refusing to give up, he ran back out into the main room and up the stairs, as he made his way into the master bedroom and began combing the room thoroughly in the same way. The man’s slightly hoarse voice crackled on one of the intercoms in the bedroom. “Now Ivan, what have I ever done to you? Surely you have better things to do than to come in and destroy all my talkboxes!” Ivan was ignoring the man’s retorts at this point, simply smashing any intercom he saw, whether it spoke to him or not. He continued his search, first covering the bedroom, where he broke a total of four intercoms, and then moving down the hall to the second-floor bathroom, where he broke two more, followed by the balcony, where he destroyed three more intercoms. After performing an exhaustive search of the second floor, he returned to the top of the main staircase, when another intercom that he had apparently missed spoke to him from right nearby. “Now this is just absurd, sir! Walking into an abandoned, not to mention condemned, estate and crushing things? Are you drunk, perhaps, Mr. Camp?” Ivan screamed in frustration, pulling aside a curtain and finding another intercom present behind it. He threw a particularly strong punch, crushing the intercom to pieces. Sparks flew from the intercom as its wiring was destroyed, and one of the sparks landed on the edge of the dust-coated curtain, forming a small flame which began to rapidly eat away at the old curtain. With a gasp, Ivan stepped back. After a moment, he laughed. “Ha! Fine. Do you hear me, old man? If I can’t find you, I’ll just burn you out!” he said with a crazed laugh.

However, as he backed away from the fire and began making his way down the flight of stairs, the old wood collapsed beneath him, within the old woodwork. In a panic, he began to try and claw his way out of his increasingly dangerous predicament. As the fire consumed the curtain and began to spread to neighboring furniture and to the second floor carpet, drawing closer to Ivan, the man’s voice was suddenly heard on yet another intercom from a location Ivan couldn’t pinpoint. “Oh, my… Seems like you’re in quite the pickle, Mr. Camp! I wish I could help! Maybe you can pry yourself out with something?” Ivan desperately looked around for anything he could use to try and work himself out of the hole he was in. Only his arms and head were free; He was stuck in the hole up to his upper chest. The fire was now raging violently, and only about six inches away from Ivan. As Ivan desperately flailed about, the man on the speaker continued speaking calmly. “Now, now. These things happen, you know. Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” Suddenly, there was an audible click from the intercom, and the man repeated himself. This pattern continued, the man sounding exactly the same every time he repeated himself: “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click. “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click. “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click. Apparently there was an error in playback.

Ivan’s eyes widened in disbelief as he realized something utterly incredible. “I don’t believe it… That’s impossible! Impossible! Oh my god!” Suddenly, Ivan gave up on escaping, resigning himself to his fate as he broke into a hysterical laughing fit at the sheer impossibility of what he had just realized. His hysterical laughing continued, going on and on even as the fire consumed him, burning him horribly, until life soon left his trapped body. All the while, the man’s voice continued to play on repeat: “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click. “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click. “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click.

The next day, the police were called to the site of an old building that had burned to the ground the night before. Officer Michael Jennings and a few police detectives were taking pictures of the scene, and a man’s wife and daughter were weeping at the grisly sight of his blackened body, lying in the middle of the mounds of ash. Officer Jennings sighed and took a moment to try and console the family. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Camp… And you too, Hailey. Your father seemed like a good man. I guess he just… couldn’t let this go.” he said solemnly. Ivan’s wife sobbed. “Why didn’t he just stay in bed? We could have both gone and looked at this place again the next day if he really wanted to!”

Meanwhile, Hailey approached the one remaining pillar of the old manor, a small section of stone wall that had survived the burning. Impressively, the single intercom remained. “And look, Mr. Talkbox is broken too…” she said sadly. “See? He’s a good guy, he was trying to help daddy!” The intercom kept repeating what it had been saying the night before, over and over: “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click. “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click.

One of the detectives approached the group and spoke to them. “Actually, that’s the shocking part. I don’t know if your husband ever figured this out, Mrs. Camp, but… These aren’t intercoms at all.” Mrs. Camp’s eyes widened. “Wh-what?” she asked. The detective nodded. “Mhm, our team took a couple of them apart that we found, and… They’re tape recorders, not intercoms. They’re not used for talking to people, they’re used for playing back messages. In other words…” Mrs. Camp stood there in disbelief, unable to believe what she was hearing. The detective continued. “Everything that these recorders said, and when they said it, was entirely predetermined. It was just preset audio playing. The words that were said, when the words were said… All of it.”

After a long moment of silence, the detective cleared his throat. “Um… Anyway, that’s why this one is repeating itself. It just hit a snag in its recording and now it’s stuck in a loop. I imagine when your husband heard that, he may have realized this too. As far as who programmed them and set them into motion, that’s anyone’s guess… I guess now, we’ll probably never know…” he said reflectively. He seemed just as surprised as everyone else. After a long silence, he cleared his throat again. “Well… At any rate, I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Camp… We’ll be done here shortly. The local mortician is on his way to pick up the body. You can schedule a proper funeral with him. I know this must be hard for the both of you, but I suggest that you go home and get cleaned up. I’ll let him know to go straight to your address after he picks up the body.”

Mrs. Camp nodded, wiping tears from her eyes as she stared down at her husband’s charred body one more time. “Thank you, officer…” she said sadly, gently taking her daughter by the hand. “Come on Hailey… The detective is right. Let’s get home and clean up, okay…?” Hailey nodded, still standing by the broken recorder. “Okay, mom… Bye dad…” she said sadly, staring down at the burned remains, also trying not to cry. “Feel better soon, Mr. Talkbox…” she added, glancing at the single remaining recorder.

Hailey and Mrs. Camp made their way back home to prepare for the funeral that they would plan for that evening, while the police finished their work at the scene. The mortician soon arrived and picked up the burned body, heading over to the Camps' house. As the sun began to sink behind the clouds, the police finished their work and departed the scene, leaving the lone piece of stone wall that was still standing, the tape recorder continuing to endlessly repeat its last pre-recorded message: “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click. “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click. “Try to stay calm, Mr. Camp!” ...Click.