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  • Phoning the Beast
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  • I'd like to point out before I get started with this that it's entirely true. I've... never actually told this story to anyone. I think that when it happened I was too afraid to say something in fear that I would've been punished, as if I had done something wrong. Or, based on how much nonsense I told my mother, I wouldn't be believed. With this is mind, I find it odd that I'm telling the internet. You may be wondering "If this is true, why put it up here?"
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  • I'd like to point out before I get started with this that it's entirely true. I've... never actually told this story to anyone. I think that when it happened I was too afraid to say something in fear that I would've been punished, as if I had done something wrong. Or, based on how much nonsense I told my mother, I wouldn't be believed. With this is mind, I find it odd that I'm telling the internet. You may be wondering "If this is true, why put it up here?" That's a very good question. I suppose I put it here because you folks enjoy this sort of thing, and perhaps because it's one of the few places I'll be at least partially believed by not only radicals or crazy people. I've never been particularly spiritual. From a very early age, even, I didn't really believe in any sort of god or follow any religion. My grandmother tried to get me into a church for kids at one point, some sort of youth group or something, but I always found myself going only because I liked some of the other kids there. I often questioned what the Priests, I guess, were telling me. I never complained, but didn't understand a lot of the biblical stories they (the priests) fed us. Thinking on it now, it was a bit weird. We'd only be told stories in groups and be taken into a back room for our turn at hearing the stories. Nothing "creepy uncle" or anything would happen, that I can remember. Looking back on it, I do find the experiences weird. It wasn't a particularly big space, either, something like a closet. When I was 10, I moved to a town in Arizona. The first person I made friends with was a very religious kid. I won't say his real name for his protection, but we'll call him Jimmy. Jimmy had a Christian family, and was brought up that the Christian way was the right way. He wasn't "right wing", but much more relaxed. If you weren't Christian, he wouldn't get on your case or anything, but he would say that you were wrong when the subject was brought up. I was actually very good friends with him despite this. He was interested in a lot of creative stuff that I'm still interested in today, such as video making, comic making, and non-digital game making. He had an interest in dragons and faries, too, which I find a bit ironic thinking on it now. Jim and I lived quite a bit away from the school, so in the morning we were the first two on the school bus, and in the afternoon we were the last two off. The ride took quite a while, almost half an hour, so we had a lot of things to talk about in that time. We talked about a lot of different subjects, especially our own creations that we had been thinking of, but the topic that came up most days was philosophy. It sounds strange that two ten-year-olds were debating philosophy and the meaning of life in half hour increments, but that's what we did. We also often dabbled in other random things that you'd expect grade schoolers to talk about, such as movies we watched and shows we liked, and how deep we dug a hole in our yard yesterday. One day, Jimmy was convinced that he had proof that he could show me about the existence of Hell. I doubted at first, but I was eager to listen with my childlike wonder. He said that there were two men who were drilling, in South America, I think, but it could have just as easily been some other place with a lot of open desert. He said "When the two men got to the near the bottom, where the core of the earth should be, they started hearing circus-like music and screaming." I tried to pass it off as a joke. "Really? Circus music?" I started mocking a circus theme, and made humorous screams in the midst of it. Jimmy laughed, but once composure was regained he said "Seriously, though, they have a website and everything". He gave me a link to the website so that I could look at it later that night. I don't remember the link, and can't find it through searching, so I can't actually give you guys the link. Sorry about that. I remember the website being... A bit brown, however. Light brown, like sand. A red menu bar lined the top, and it seemed the website was designed in a comical fashion. I didn't look at it too long, but it was enough to satisfy me so that I could confront Jimmy the next day. When we were talking the next morning, however, he seemed a bit... Solemn. Stoic, even. He gets like that a lot, however, and especially in the morning, so I passed it off as nothing. He later mentioned some movie. I can't remember which. Where someone called the number "666" on the phone, and summoned the devil. He said he was interested in trying it, but was frightened. I laughed it off as nothing. Now we get to the crux of the story. A few days later, I was very bored as it was the weekend, and weekends in the desert produce nothing to do. My sisters were busy with other things, and a lot of my friends were unavailable. My mother worked a lot at the time, so I couldn't do anything with her, either, since she was out of the house. So, I found the phone and entered in those three digits. "666". I was hesitant at first, but assured myself that it wouldn't patch through - and, in fact, couldn't patch through - because it wasn't a long enough number. With that to drive me. I hit the talk button and the number dialed. I put the phone up to my ear and was surprised intensely. I didn't hear static, or a blank tone, or even the constant beep like when a line is dead. It patched through. It didn't even ring, it just. Immediately picked up. What I heard was disturbing. Somehow disturbing. It was ragtime piano being played, with a... Circus vibe to it. I only listened for a second, but it felt like an eternity. I think if I had stayed on the phone longer, I may have heard... Someone. But I quickly hung up before anything of the sort could happen. I then went to my room, and promptly forgot about it. And that's the strange thing. I didn't try to forget, I didn't do anything to force myself to forget, I just... Forgot it. Like it didn't happen. The next day, I could remember it again, but for that one space of time, it was... Gone. Here is where reality kicks in. This story doesn't end with demons haunting me, or vicious nightmares like in other creepy pasta. I went on to have a pretty good life for a kid. Later, me and Jimmy fell out of contact, I think preempted by some sort of argument. Not a spiritual argument, but about dragons or something. I asked my mother if she noticed me acting strange around that time. After telling her why, she said I must have been asleep. Probably a good portion of you agree with her but I couldn't have been asleep. I know that I wasn't asleep, I just know that that was an experience. When I have a very vivid dream, I know the difference, but this... I know that this was real. There's no way I can explain it. I think in a few days, when my parents go out, I'm going to call the number again. Either to prove it wasn't a dream, or to hear all the way through. I'll update this page when I do, to kind of let everyone know. I don't know why, but you folks are into this stuff, so... Hopefully it will be interesting for someone.