R/Nosleep (Get Spooked)

We're Not Supposed To Watch The Local Broadcast Channel (Pt 2)

By: u/RobertMort

We ran into Nathan's room. Ben dragged a chair over, wedging it underneath the doorknob. Then we both stood there, paralyzed. Staring at the door as if we expected the newscaster to crawl out of the TV and break in any second.

I could still hear his voice, loud and clear, drifting up to us.

"Today, Susan Thompson asked her husband Bill for the 54th time to fix the stove. Later that night, she used the search term 'can police trace cyanide?'"

"Margaret Lu took a pregnancy test today. It's positive. How is she going to tell her boyfriend... it's not his?"

"In other news, a beautiful Labrador puppy was adopted by Lianna Dobbs! Hopefully she can afford to feed it with her crippling $17,346 in credit card debt."

"We need to get out of here," Ben whispered. "They probably got bugs in every room. Every house in this damn neighborhood."

"Oh." Suddenly, I felt relief at this real-world explanation. "You think our house is bugged?"

"Uh, yeah. How else would that guy be able to hear and see us?"

"I guess... I guess that's the only way."

Ben bent over Nathan. "Hey, buddy. We're going for a drive, okay?" He hoisted Nathan up, and the three of us started towards the door.

Then I stopped.

"It's quiet," I whispered.

"Good. So the TV finally went off."

"But we didn't turn it off."

"We tried to, earlier. Maybe it just turned off now." He sighed. "Come on, this kid is heavy. Open the door."

Reluctantly, I dragged the chair away. My hand fell on the doorknob—and then I pulled it open.

I poked my head out. The hallway was empty. I stepped into the darkness and we crept forward. Eerie blue light flickered across the stairs.

"The TV's still on," I whispered.

"Okay. So maybe the volume went off or something." Ben's voice grew hurried, more nervous. "Come on, let's just get out, okay? The car keys are next to the door."

Dread filled me. Don't go downstairs. That's what every gut instinct was telling me. I couldn't face those horrible, hollow blue eyes and that knowing smile. But then Ben started forward, and I couldn't let him and Nathan go first. I darted in front of them.

As I descended, the scene came into view.

The TV was on. The newscaster sat at his desk, silently. I would've thought it were a photo if not for his index finger, slowly tapping on the wood.

And then he started speaking again.

As if he'd been waiting for us to return.

"What else can we say about the Hernandez family?" he asked, slowly, canting his head. "Oh, yes. They have a little boy who loves Minecraft and Paw Patrol. Nathan William Hernandez. A happy accident, for a couple that vowed to remain childless." He paused, and I swear, it looked like his eyes were directly on Ben's. "Or was it?"

I looked up at Ben.

"Go!" he said, grabbing my hand.

We hurried down the front porch steps, Nathan bouncing on his father's back. They dove into the back as I got into the driver's seat. The engine revved underneath us. As I pulled out of the driveway, I glanced up at the house.

The eerie, blue light of the TV flickered through the blinds.

"Where are we going?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Hotel. There's one on Main Street. We'll be safe there."

I tore down the street, my fingers sweaty against the wheel. I rolled through the stop sign at the end, turned left—and then screeched to a stop.

There was a figure standing in the road.

Melinda.

"Stop—stop the car!" she yelled, waving her arms. Ben rolled down his window. "I know what you did," she whispered. "You watched the channel—didn't you? I saw the TV on when I drove by your house—I was just about to come over there—"

"We're going to a hotel," he said, glancing at me.

"No. You won't be safe at a hotel. They have TVs all over the place. Cable's hooked up everywhere." She shook her head, dark hair falling around her face. "Come on inside. You'll be safe with me."

Ben looked at me. I hesitated, then nodded.

We pulled into her driveway. As soon as we came to a stop, she ran over to the doors. "Hurry—get inside," she said, waving us on. Then she shut the door behind us.

Only then did I notice how many locks she had on her door. Two deadbolts, a padlock, a chain. She locked each one in quick succession, the metal clinking loudly.

"Mommy?" Nathan asked, finally fully awake. "Why are we not at home?"

"Sssh, baby, it's okay," I said, stooping to his level. I squeezed his hands. "We just... Mommy and Daddy made a mistake. We can't go home for a little while."

"He can sleep in my daughter's room," Melinda offered. "She's away at college."

But Nathan was already running towards her cat—a small orange tabby, sitting in the corner of the kitchen. Lowering my voice, I turned to her. "Why didn't you tell us? I asked you what was on the channel!"

"I would have. Donna's supposed to debrief all the newcomers. But she didn't, did she?"

I shook my head.

"Dammit," she said, under her breath. Then she turned back to me. "I'm so sorry. I should've realized you didn't know. But some people, they choose to make light of the whole thing, you know? Because it's too horrible to face, otherwise."

"Do you know who bugged our house? Was it the newscaster?" Ben asked.

Melinda looked at him, confused. "It's not bugs. At least, I've never found any in my house. Believe me, I've looked... I don't know how he gets his information. I don't know how he knows... what he knows."

Ben looked at me, eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed into a line. "But it can't be an informant, or anything. He knows things real-time. Like minutes after they happened."

Melinda's eyes met mine. "I know."

The silence pressed in on us. My head was swirling with questions. Happy accident? Or was it? His voice echoed in my head, over and over. And that horrible face was burned into my mind like an afterimage. I saw it every time I closed my eyes. Those blue eyes...

"Wait. Where's Nathan?" Ben asked.

I jolted from my thoughts. I glanced around the kitchen and a horrible, sinking feeling formed in my stomach. The cat—and Nathan—were gone.

"Nathan? Nathan, where did you go?" I called.

And then I saw it.

The flickering blue light, spilling out of the living room.

"Nathan?" I screamed. I ran towards it, my heart beginning to pound. "Nathan, don't turn on the TV! Don't you dare!"

I stumbled into the room. The TV was on. But the newscaster was gone; only his empty chair, the wooden desk, and the blinding blue background filled the screen.

"Nathan?"

No. The room was empty.

And the back door was hanging wide open.