A man named Acclair lived for forty-two years, four months, three days and six minutes. For the last six minutes he had been writhing in pain, trying to remove the seat belts with his hands numb from the cold. They still didn't give in. He tugged at them in desperation, trying not to pay attention to the blood flowing from his stomach, which had already formed a puddle under the seat. My head was spinning and I felt a terrible emptiness inside. In his mind, Acclair Adamson already understood that he was dead, but his body did not want to come to terms with this fact and forced him to continue useless attempts to somehow improve the situation. Like Jacqueline, he thought. This was the last thought that flashed through Ackler Adamson's head. He died. Two hours later his body was found. Three years later they identified him. Four days later the funeral was to take place.
The snow shone in the sun. Anna had always liked the way it looked, but now, she thought, it looked terribly out of place. Her life was destroyed, but the snow continued to glisten, bringing back warm memories that now have no place. How long will it be before she can forget? How long will it be before she can admire that sparkle again? How long would it be before she could put aside the image of snow glistening on graves?
It was as if she heard the words from afar. The priest, who rattled off quotes from his little black book and savored stories of love and God high in the heavens on his lips, irritated her. It seemed blasphemous to her that a person who loved only spiritually would mourn her earthly love. She did not say this, she simply listened; it was impossible to disturb the silence, which in some unknown way had established itself around, established itself despite the speech of the priest and the howling of the wind.
Now is the time to say goodbye to Acker Adamson. In a minute, his body will be buried, so... - in a quiet voice, as if not breaking the silence, the priest almost uttered the fatal words.
Anna raised her eyes and looked at the coffin and the hole in the ground. One day he told her that the only thing he was afraid of was being alone down there in the dark. She laughed, but he did not support her laughter. He brought her closer to him so that she could feel his ragged breathing, and in a fearful, terribly serious whisper, he asked her for a favor. Now it's time to fulfill that request. With trembling hands, Anna fumbled in her pocket for her mobile phone and took it out. Slowly walking towards the open coffin, she knelt down in front of it and looked at the pale face of her dead husband. Dead people never look beautiful, she thought. When she was fourteen and her Aunt Margaret was being buried, she saw her in the coffin. The face of Aunt Margaret, who died of a stroke, looked so angry that it frightened young Anna. She seemed to be making faces at her. The husband's face looked the opposite, overly satisfied, like that of saints or madmen. This scared her no less.
He was buried in parade, in his best clothes. Anna reached out to the pocket of her chic tuxedo and, as if afraid to disturb the sleeping man, carefully placed the mobile phone in his pocket. Then, not paying attention to the strange looks of those around her, she got up and walked. On the way, catching the clergyman's gaze, she nodded to him. Acclair Adamson's coffin was placed down into the darkness.
She had a dream. She stood on a hill and saw a wonderful landscape. A flowering lawn, a beautiful golden country washed by the sea, was in the distance. She saw this and was drawn there, stronger than anywhere else. But she just stood and watched until some noise attracted her attention. She looked back and saw a huge herd of sheep, truly gigantic, heading towards this beautiful country. It came from the very horizon, and there were so many of them! Hundreds, thousands, millions of rams of various colors and sizes. They all silently walked to this country, without slowing down, in a kind of terrifying march. And they walked like this until they reached a huge wall of fire that blocked the path to the golden country. And, accelerating, they ran into this wall, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. She started screaming and asked them to stop, but they kept jumping and jumping. Her voice disappeared and she could only watch as this nightmare continued until one of the rams stopped and...
An annoying loud sound brought Anna back to reality. The phone rang. With awakening came awareness, with awareness came relief, with relief came calm. Anna pulled off the blanket, drained the glass of water and extended her hand to the phone, which was still persistently ringing.
Silence. Only a slight crackling sound somewhere inside the telephone receiver. She put the phone on the shelf next to her, turned off the sound and went to bed. Into oblivion.
She remembered about the night phone call only after returning from work, late in the evening. A slight pang of curiosity made her go to the phone and look up the caller's number. At night she didn’t even look at him, and she simply forgot to take her phone to work. She slowly walked over to the cabinet where she had put the phone at night and looked at the number.
A lump formed in her throat, and she threw the phone away like a poisonous snake. Her head began to spin, the colors began to fade and she began to lose her balance. On unsteady legs she made her way to the chair and fell into it. The thoughts hurt her from the inside and each of them was terrifying. The call was from Acclair's phone. What happened? Did the doctors make a mistake and bury a living person? But she saw his striped body... Thoughts rushed from one to another, depriving Anna of the remnants of concentration. However, these thoughts came to some kind of general agreement - we need to call back.
Anna stood up and picked up the phone. She was still feeling nauseous, but it seemed to be getting better every second. Her hands were shaking and she almost dropped the phone again. It took a lot of willpower to dial the number and press the call button. The beeps hurt her ears and echoed in her head. Meanwhile, a very important one appeared among the thoughts - no matter what happens, she must help her husband. This thought calmed her and allowed her to concentrate. However, all concentration disappeared in one moment - the moment the phone was picked up.
Anna? Anna, is that you? Tell me what is this? Please, I beg you, tell me it's you! - the man on the other end of the phone screamed in horror, and the man on the other end of the phone was, without a doubt, her husband.
Cute? Are you... are you alive? Lord, what's going on? - Anna also started screaming.
Anna, Anna, Anna... - the voice began to calm down - They were mistaken, Anna, I didn’t die, they buried me alive. You have to help me. Immediately, immediately, do you hear? - the calm did not last long, her husband’s voice began to strangely combine fear and anger.
Of course I'm going, honey, right now, I'm going...
Don’t hang up, darling, please don’t stop talking, I beg you, don’t stop talking... - sobs were heard. - I beg you, Lord, I don’t want to stay in silence, I beg you, don’t give up...
A blizzard raged through the cemetery, covering the names on tombstones and monuments with snow. A woman walked through the blizzard, tears froze on her face, turning into ice and wounding her skin. However, the pain was insignificant, it went into the light. There, she thought, the cemetery caretaker lives, he will help me, we will get my husband out of the darkness and everything will be fine, everyone will be happy, fear will disappear.
Despite the fairly late hour, the old caretaker was not yet asleep and, hearing knocks on the door, quickly opened it. Anna, holding back tears, began to explain. The words did not want to turn into sentences, they were constantly confused and lost their meaning, but he understood her. The old caretaker turned white.
So what happens, they buried a living person? - notes of fear appeared in the voice.
A couple of minutes later, they were already digging up the grave. Things went very slowly, the ground managed to freeze and become covered with ice. The shovels had difficulty breaking through it, but after some time the job was done. Soon the workers arrived and hastily removed the coffin and removed the lid.
Acclair Adamson was dead. Nothing about him had changed since the time of the burial and, apparently, he had not touched the phone.
Girl, was this a prank? - the old caretaker frowned, but looking at Anna’s absolutely white face, he became better. - Apparently, you drank something, so that’s what you saw. And she probably grieved very much. This happens, now come on...
But I have a phone, look... - Anna took the phone with trembling hands and called her husband’s number.
The phone in the dead man’s pocket did not react in any way, although the beeps were already ringing. A minute later, a scream from the receiver broke the silence.
Anna, where are you? I'm scared, Lord, how scared I am! I'm alone, I'm alone here, it's dark and quiet! Lord, help me, my prayer to you, Lord, Anna, someone! Can you hear me, God!
Snow covered Acclair Adamson's body. People listened to the voice from the phone in horror and remained silent.
I curse you, I curse you, do you hear! You are not helping me! I curse, I curse, I hate you all! - the anger and hatred in the voice suddenly gave way to an almost melancholy howl. - Sorry! Sorry! Forget what I said! Just forget it! I'm yours, I'm completely yours, just pull me out, pull me out! Help! Anna!
The curses and requests of the dead man buried alive sounded and sounded. And the snow kept falling and falling.
Does it say you spoke on the phone with your husband even though he was dead? Right?
R-that's right. - Anna stammered, the absolutely indifferent and cold voice of the questioner frightened her. - Don’t think I’m crazy, there are witnesses!
We have already asked them. Don’t doubt it, they confirmed your words and we believe you,” the questioner’s voice did not change at all.
Do you believe it? I…
They came in the morning. Unexpected and uninvited guests. Now they sit in her house like owners and ask questions. She didn't like it terribly, it scared her. Everything was already frightening her. Over the past days, the face of a beautiful, joyful woman turned into a caricature of herself: a frightened, pale, theatrical mask, the emotions on which were monstrously unnatural.
Yes, we believe you. We, one might say, are specialists in solving such ... problems,” the man allowed himself to smile a little, in the next moment the indifference on his face again took its usual position - the dominant position.
We want you to call...your husband one more time. From another phone, for example from this one. - the man took the phone out of the black bag and carefully handed it over. - We will keep yours for now; tests are being carried out now.
Anna picked up the phone and glanced at the man, as if expecting something. He caught her gaze and briefly ordered:
Call.
My hands began to tremble again. This did not escape the eyes of the ordering officer, but he apparently did not attach any importance to it. He waited patiently for Anna to dial the number. And this moment has come: the beeps started ringing. This time nothing was heard.
Hello? - Anna stammered uncertainly. - Hello, can you hear me?
I... I don’t know, love... I...
Please, I just want to know when I'm going to die. How long has it been since my funeral, Anna? How much time has passed? It seems to me that I should have died already. - the voice was calm, like that of a person who has accepted his fate. - I called you, Anna, so that you could save me. After all, that’s why I asked you to leave your phone, do you understand? I was very afraid that something like this would happen. But you didn't save me.
We... - Anna began to cry. - We dug up the grave, you're dead.
The dead don't speak to the living, Anna. The dead don't speak at all. The dead do not feel crowded. The dead do not feel their limbs go numb. They do not feel slightly suffocated. Their nails don’t bleed because of the wood embedded in them,” he said this also calmly, but there was tension in his voice.
You don't exist, it's just a lie! - Anna didn’t know what to think, she thought she was going crazy.
You won't help me. I understand. Please find someone who can help. I'm cramped. I don't want to hear from you anymore, Anna. This is worse than betrayal. Lastly: eat vegetables, especially broccoli.
Acclair Adamson hung up and never picked it up again.
A week has passed since the first call rang, turning Anna's life into a nightmare. However, now it didn't matter at all. After all, Anna’s life began to improve and she forgot about the nightmare calls. Not without the help of others, of course.
Five days have passed since the SCP Organization recorded the anomaly and began studying it. However, now it didn't matter at all. After all, hundreds of standardized tests were administered and hundreds of papers were signed. The employees involved chose to forget about this incident. The natural way.
For Agent Reynolds, an eternity had passed since the moment he ordered to call the dead man. And it mattered to him. Despite the fact that he tried to show indifference with his entire appearance, he could not forget about the anomaly. All the time he followed attempts to establish contact, understand the nature of the anomaly, participated in the work of the theoretical department, which did not last long, and watched the verdict of the Ethics Committee. He couldn't forget.
The terrible incident consumed his mind and kept him awake at night, and when the decision was made to never call Ackler Adamson's phone again, Reynolds protested vehemently. However, the protests went nowhere. No one was interested in this anomaly. Reynolds' attempts to understand who Acclair Adamson was became manic. He tried to talk to him several times, but most often he heard only sobs or a meaningless string of words on the phone. Sometimes, however, Acclair screamed and became hysterical, asking for salvation, which no one could give him. However, this happened less and less often.
Reynolds, however, never stopped trying to talk to Acclair, often staying late at work. Now that's exactly what he was doing. However, this time he decided to do without logging the dialogue and simply dialed the number, which he had already memorized, directly from his small office on the lower floors of the Zone.
Yes, this is Agent Reynolds and I would like to talk to you.
You know. “I have questions,” the agent said in an adamant tone.
Of course I do. You want to know who or what I am. This question splits into a hundred others. Am I real or am I like a voice on a recording? Am I Acclair Adamson or is it something else? Where am I if, as you claim, my body lies in the grave you dug? Am I really alive? If I'm alive, how do you sleep at night? Why am I not dying? Why am I saying all this? How did I not go crazy? How is all this possible? Why am I talking to you now? What awaits you after death? I don't have the answers. Maybe I am a person who was buried alive and doomed to live forever in this state. Maybe I’m not a person at all, but some kind of monster frightening people on the phone in this way, you thought about this, did you think that you were the only one who came up with such a thought? Or maybe I’m neither one nor the other, what if I’m just the result of your slow insanity, the fruit of a sick mind?
“I,” Reynolds tried to interject, but a cold monotone voice interrupted him.
And the most important thing, the most exciting thing,” a triumphant tone appeared in the voice, “is the question of whether this is the same life after death, isn’t this what awaits every person? After all, this worried you most of all? What if all this eternal suffering is destined for everyone, and I am unique only in that I had a telephone to talk to the living? You've already asked for your body to be cremated, right? Nice try. However…
Stop it! Shut up! Enough! - Reynolds shouted sharply, like a wounded animal.
Enough? I can't stop. What if all this is prepared for sinners? After all, I cheated on my wife and did some dirty things at work. And here comes the punishment! Now imagine what awaits you in this case! - the triumph in the voice reached its climax. - Eternal lying in such a coffin, worms devouring you alive, but you, like Prometheus, will have to relive these moments again, continuously. You'll be trying to attach pieces of your falling-off flesh, like Jacqueline did with her hubby's brains. For some reason I like this association. How do you like it?
However, Acclair Adamson, if it was him, did not hear the answer. Reynolds threw the phone at the wall. The connection was severed.
Wrapped in a warm cloak, Agent Reynolds stood among the tombstones, with wet snow falling on his head. The weather was clearly not great, but Reynold didn't care. He stood like a gargoyle - motionless and staring at one place. Here Aclair Adamson rested, and here the terrible secret of life and death was hidden. Or it wasn’t, no one could say for sure.
A month had passed since he last spoke to Acclair. After that conversation, he never called him again. All this month he stubbornly tried to forget about it and it seemed to work, but the fatal tragedy that happened in his life awakened the memories. His wife was dying and neither he nor all the doctors in the world could stop her steady movement towards death. And finally, two days ago, she passed away. Reynolds, despite all the outrage, insisted on cremating her body.
Now he stood at the eerie tombstone, staring at it, as if hoping that it would reveal something to him that he did not know, would reassure him. In the oppressive silence the phone rang. Reynolds absentmindedly took his phone out of his coat pocket and picked it up.
Agent Reynolds sank right onto the tombstone, dropping the phone from his hands.
And the snow kept falling and falling.
And in Reynolds' head there were a thousand screams that no one could hear.
Have you ever found yourself in situations where you seem to be saying the right things and expressing your goals, but the only response is laughter, disrespect, or people simply not listening to you. Another thing is the pneumatic mail system, in which your sent “message” will be heard in any case. But you are looking for the reason, but you cannot find the answer. But your main problem is that you just talk and do nothing. You cannot become the person that people will actually reach out to or listen to.
There are three main reasons why why don't people listen to you:
1. You talk about the past
Have you ever heard the conversations of old people who very often use the phrase “Here I was once...” or “I’m your age...”. On the one hand, they evoke respect only because it comes from the lips of older people, but on the other hand, no one listens to them, since a person talks about what happened long ago in his life, forgetting that Only those successes that a person achieves now are valued.
It’s the same with adults who remember what they once achieved: no one listens to them, since everyone can boast of some past successes. Well, what is happening currently? It is the achievements that you are making now that arouse admiration and respect from other people. Because you not only talk about your goals, but also take certain steps to achieve them.
2. Your words don't match your deeds.
You should be wary of those people who talk about their future achievements as if they have already happened. These people so skillfully piece together their story from past successes, a few real achievements and what they still have to do, that others involuntarily begin to believe in their worth. But in this case there is nothing more than idle chatter. After all, a person talks about a future that he has not yet achieved, linking it with past successes and supporting it with a few current achievements (and often with an ordinary reputation on which he actually previously worked).
However, it is known that people value in a person not words, but his actions. It is the way he works to implement his words that more eloquently reveals the real picture of his life and the seriousness of what he said. If you just say that you will achieve something, but do nothing about it, then your words are an empty phrase that will not be meaningful to other people in the future.
3. You don't lead by example.
People are ready and want to implement great plans. These could be employees of a large company, members of a certain organization, or those who decided to support a group of people. But in some cases they follow the leaders, in others they do not. And the problem is whether the leader himself is the inspirer and executor of his words.
How would you react if you became a temporary member of some organization in which the commander only issues decrees, but then goes home, leaving all actions to the will of his “subordinates”? Would you want to follow such a leader? It’s the same in life: if you want people to follow you, then you must not only issue decrees, but also carry them out yourself. You must be an example to those you inspire and lead.
