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Updated: Oct 12, 2021

Photo by Denny Müller on Unsplash.


Sent: 18/1, 04:22

From: Frank

To: Mike

Subject: Gurgle Test: 1

Hi Mike,

Today I turned the emergency lights off, as they were becoming distracting. The buzzing was most irritating, more so even than when I had to finish off the rest of the assistants. You have to understand Mike, they were becoming a terrible inconvenience. Only some had the decency to die quietly. The rest tried to fight me off, but the little concoction I made seemed to do the trick. I hardly needed to test it first anyhow; they were supposed to die after all. In any case, it’s just you and me now as I try to figure out where that gurgling sound is coming from. I had hoped that, with the rest of us dead, the gurgling would stop. It sounds organic, but there’s nothing left here that could make it. The only other person it could be is you. I haven’t heard from you since the incident with your arm, but I assume you must be holding it somewhere. Don’t worry Mike, I’ll find you sooner or later. I’ll save you from yourself. But please stop gurgling! Wait until I’m ready to locate you first.

I must listen to the pipes.


Sent: 20/1, 13:10

From: Frank

To: Mike

Subject: Gurgle Test: 2

Hi Mike,

Sorry for the late reply, I’ve been dissecting your arm. I found it when I’d finished following the pipes. They’ve remained curiously warm despite all power having been shut off. Usually, I would attribute this to the latent water supply that has stabilised at a certain temperature, but there is no water supply (sidenote: after consuming Tony I have not needed water for hydration. The slime seems to be enough to keep my body functioning optimally). Even more curiously, only one of the pipes was warm enough to heat my hand. The others were lukewarm at best. I anticipated that this pipe in particular would lead me to the gurgling.

The pipe took me deeper into the complex, of which I had only explored a cautious amount so far due to the previously more pressing issue of escape from starvation. After the deaths of my associates and their exposure to a sample of Tony’s body cavity, I had enough supplies to continue my investigation. The sensations experienced in the pitch black were… I’m not sure. I was hyper-aware of my surroundings, even though I couldn’t see them. Just having my hand on the pipe let me visualise the wall. The echoes gave me a sense of space. The differing air quality helped me identify how far away I was getting from the office. Things began to smell bad the further away I went.

As I went along, I could hear the gurgling every now and again, slowly getting louder. It remained sporadic; there was no pattern to it that I could discern. Eventually I found myself in a much larger space; the air was colder, and I could feel the room open up around me. When I let go of the pipe and stepped into the centre, I felt something wet stick to the bottom of my shoes. Though I could not see it I am almost certain it is the same compound as Tony. It was a viscous, smelly substance, but I didn’t get to spend too much time studying it before that gurgling started up again.

That’s when I found your arm again. I assume you must have brought it with you there, but why? It was lying in the middle of the floor. I know this because I almost tripped over it after stepping out of the sticky puddle. From how it felt to touch, it was no less fresh than before, when it was in the ceiling. Considering the state of the others, I don’t yet understand why you’re persevering so well (I brought your arm back with me this time, since you’re clearly not using it anymore. You can come pick it up from the lab whenever you next have some time free).

In any case, by this point the constant drawl of the noise was making me feel quite faint, and I’m ashamed to say I grew afraid for myself the longer I was there. The noise grew louder and what I can only describe as angrier. Once it had, I recognised the same pattern as before - low, high, long, short - but this time it grew more rapid over time. It grew closer, and faster, and I felt as if it would envelop me any second. Then all at once it stopped. I felt the presence of the voice – and I am fully certain it is a voice now – in the same room, occupying the same space as me. It was impossible to tell for sure due to the lack of light, but I could sense the mass in front of me. I could hear how wet it was. It became too much for me ultimately, and I fled with your arm back to the lab.

I am not downcast though! The second test has been a success. I now know where the voice lives. I’ll try confronting it on my own terms next time.


Sent: 22/1, 11:44

From: Frank

To: Mike

Subject: Arm Test Results

Good morning Mike,

I’ve been running tests on your arm, as I mentioned before. At the most basic level your arm defies belief. I’ve had an entire laboratory to use, and have attempted every sort of test I’m able to perform, yet I still can’t make sense of it. Below are some of the more basic observations:

· Forequarter amputation. Violent dismemberment.

· Flesh has remained remarkably well-preserved. Raised veins and arteries.

· Hair follicles and nails missing. Dissolved?

· Some bloating around the wrist.

· Slime continues to excrete from the limb. Reminds me of a hagfish.

· Unable to separate slime from limb. Any removed slime is replaced over several minutes.

· Slime is non-reactive to touch (previously observed when ingesting Tony). Unable to determine composition without additional resources.

· Slime is resilient to acid and alkaline substances. Even the stronger solutions had no effect. Slime still edible after prolonged exposure to acid and/or alkaline.

· Slime from arm has similarly nutritious effects on the human body.

· Inconsistency between effect of slime on Tony’s body and Mike’s arm. Mike is well-preserved. Tony is almost entirely dissolved after 17 days (time flies!).

As far as I can understand, your arm is alive in every way except movement. It remains in a state of suspended animation. The slime keeps the arm hydrated, although all hair and nails are missing. The trauma at the shoulder has neither dried nor scarred. The tissue is still “fresh” as it were. You could almost believe it had been removed in the last few minutes. The taste is different from the others. Most similar to what remains of Jenny; raw lamb at the front, with a sour custard finish.

(It’s like I’m wine-tasting, isn’t that funny? Ah yes, a beautiful French bouquet from the Picardie region. The despair of life tempers the flavour of the corpse wonderfully. Haha!)

Unfortunately, I’m not done with it yet, although I’ll make sure to return it once I am.

Thanks for your patience,


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