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white noise

Eggman Empire

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Paul Theodore Mason sat in his truck cab, drinking the last of his coffee and sandwich. Outside, was the Diner and parking lot he'd obtained his dinner from. As he munched down the rest of his food, he yawned and began flipping through radio channels. For the most part, it was difficult to find a radio station with good reception. Especially in a place like zone 9. One would probably have better luck finding another trucker, a mining or weather station, or even some armature radio operator to talk to on CB. Still, Mason was hopeful. As he surfed the AM channels, he ran across mostly static and automated weather channels. However, as his radio passed over a certain station, Mason stopped and went back to it. As he stopped over it, a peculiar noise wafted over the speakers. It was nearly identical to that of a vibrating cell phone. The noise played for exactly 2 seconds, before stopping for another 1.5 seconds, and beginning again.

Officially, the station was called CXK-92. Unofficially, it had many names; though the most popular was "the hummer station." For as long as Mason could remember, every time he tuned into this station, the noise was there. It never changed, never faltered, and there was never anything else on there. In all honesty, the station gave him the creeps. It was not the noise, but the mystery that surrounded it. The station had began broadcasting the noise on new years day, 12 years ago. Since then, the only noise ever heard was the humming sound. Well, almost never. Since the signal first started, there had only been 6 ever confirmed cases of something other then the noise being reported. The story went that the noise was interrupted with something akin to metal being grind together, then a voice coming on and sounding of a series of numbers, letters, and names. Then, when the voice was finished speaking, the grinding noise started up for another minute or so, before returning to the buzzing noise.

The explanation for such a broadcast was simple, and Mason knew it. He'd heard of it before. Number stations. Radio stations(or untraceable shortwave AM transmissions) that (theoretically) played nothing but a continuous tone, day in and day out. Then, every once and a while, the broadcast would be interrupted, usually by a voice, (but sometimes a series of beeps,) and a supposed message was put out to individuals who knew what the broadcast was really about. Many speculated that this was a form of communications that the Eggman Military used to keep it's many isolated bases and recon posts informed of important news. Or, others suspected that these stations were operated by foreign nationals to keep hidden spies updated on their mission agenda.

Despite what was most definitely a product of Military communications, Mason couldn't help but be creeped out by the noise. It just seemed to agitate some sub-conscious, primal paranoia Mason had. He was about to turn to another station when something happened and his hand froze millimeters from the dial. It was the

sound. His heart raced. After a minute and a half of the disturbing noise, there was a click and a male voice came over the radio. "Two-Echo-Bravo-Sierra-four-one-one-Romeo-November-Papa-Romeo-Tango-Lima-Delta-one-two-Delta-Delta-one-two-six-two-zero-one-zero-Alpha-Zulu-Whiskey-India-seven-Hotel-November-Golf-niner-three. Break." The voice stopped and the grinding replaced it. A minute later, the humming noise replaced that, as well. Mason quickly shut of his radio and turned on his CB.

"This is Alone-in-the-zone, Was anyone else listening to the Hummer station just now?" He asked, wondering if he was imagining the whole thing.

"This is Wheel-n-reel,I read you Zone. Yeah, I just heard some crazy stuff too."

"This is Tow-mister, was I tripping or did Hummer station actually say something?"

"I heard some kind of radio distortion and then some guy talking. You all heard that too, right?" Mason asked.

"Roger Alone. Bunch of crap about numbers and stuff as I recall." Tow-mister responded.

"What was it all about? Did anyone understand it?" Wheel-n-reel inquired.

"Not a clue. But I do know one thing for a fact:I'm not going to sleep tonight." Mason said.

"10-4 on that Alone." Wheel-n-reel said with a nervous chuckle.

"Thank god for concealed-carry." Tow-mister said.

"Oh, what kind of gun you got?" Mason asked, leaping at the chance to change the subject. And so the three strangers talked about every thing from guns, to trucks, to hauls, to humorous incidents that had occurred to them. They talked long into the night, and only stopped when the sun came up.

OOC:Seriously, the whole "number station" thing is creepy as hell. I ran across the grinding noise last week and it's still freaking me out. If you're not sufficiently weirded out, try googling number stations and listen to the various noise clips they have.

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OOC:Seriously, the whole "number station" thing is creepy as hell. I ran across the grinding noise last week and it's still freaking me out. If you're not sufficiently weirded out, try googling number stations and listen to the various noise clips they have.

OoC: I just read the Wikipedia article about numbers stations and listened to the "Lincolnshire Poacher" on YouTube after reading this thread. I have to agree that they're creepy and mysterious.

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