Overnightwatch - Blog Posts
You're all questioning whether the villain is Chase or Anti, but let's not forget who the real monster is
The fucking Overnightwatch car
Fuckin glitch bitch I’ve been staring at this screen for 9 hours
Greyscale. (An #Overnightwatch Horror Drabble.)
The room was monochrome. Black and white video feed from the nine cameras flooded grey light over the black desk and office chair with the broken back. The white walls were just out of reach of the screen’s glow, looking more like fog than physical barriers. Black shoes tapped across the grey tile of the floor, dull and scuffed from years of work, and the pale face of the guard seemed to glow in the ambiance. The only color in the room was the silly, scarlet, festive hat on the guard’s head, sliding down slowly toward the steaming cup of coffee cradled in their hands, only to be pushed back up occasionally. Why they’d worn it to work, they’d forgotten hours ago, as the festive mood was dead in the air at two in the morning on a cold, lonely night. There had been no change in two hours. The longest gap of the night. The silence was beginning to get to them, but they dared not play music to sooth their nerves, for fear of missing...him. It’d started with small things. Shadows. Laughter. Small distortions. But as the hours had crept on, figures had shown up, the sounds had gotten louder and louder, and eventually, he had shown himself...but only in recordings. The guard and their network had gone to work worried, and excited. Now, they simply hoped to survive. A distortion, over one camera. The Kitchen. The sound of laughter so loud that the guard spilled their coffee as they jumped violently. Another recording. Lights flickering. More laughter. This was not the most frightening anomaly that had happened tonight. But it was the closest. The yellow light under the door flickered on and off, on and off, sporadically. Pounding began on the door to the office. The guard watched, one hand clutching the chair’s arm desperately, the other searching fruitlessly for some weapon. A second later it was over. He was gone.
The guard stayed stock still for a long moment, breathing far too heavily. After a while, they were sure that he was gone, at least for the moment, and sunk slowly into the coffee-stained chair, pulling out a phone and shooting a message to the network before returning to the watch, now too unwilling to go and replace their coffee as tears streamed down their pallid face.
2:34 AM
Sent from: 3rd Watch
To: 1st Watch, 2nd Watch, 4th Watch, etc.
He’s here. Getting stronger. Don’t know if I’ll make it to 4th. Will send analysis when I stop shaking.
2:35 AM
Sent from: 6th Watch
To: 1st Watch, 2nd Watch, 4th Watch, etc.
Need backup?
2:40 AM
Sent from: 4th Watch
To: 1st Watch, 2nd Watch, 4th Watch, etc.
3rd?
3:00 AM
Sent from: 4th Watch
To: 1st Watch, 2nd Watch, 4th Watch, etc.
We have a man down. Send backup.
3:16 AM
Sent from: Private Number
To: 1st Watch, 2nd Watch, 4th Watch, etc.
Ț̩̙͕̲̳͠ḭ͈̬͍ͥ̊̒͛ͭͥ̇cͬ́ͅk̯̜̹͍̳͉͖ ̫̱̺̱t̡̼̋ͮͣ̿̎͆o̢̙̰͖̼̙̓̀̈́ͬ̏ͭ̈́c̬̤̓̄ͥ̒͌ͤk̓̐̎҉͇̺̥͈͚,͏̤͉ ̢͈͈̫͚̦͊̀̚tͯ͋ͣͭĩ̴̞̼͔͔͒͗͛̌͐̒ͅc̰̖̠̼͔ͬ̒̿̈́ͪķ̘͎̼͍̫͐ͤ ͓̎̀ͦ͒͢t̩͓͉̬̗̾̾ͣo̬̬̖̤͗ͧ̒͊̋ͩ̚c͚̲ͭͭ̅ķ͔̖̥̥͇̂̏ͭ͛͐̔̐,̲͚̟̭̤̖͔͡ ͈̝ͤͬt̯͙̤̼̲͓͆ͥ͊̊i͚͑̀̋͑̇ͥ̚͢c̴k̭̮͔̮͖ͦͬͨ̎̅ͤ ̦̹̦ͨͥ͝t̤̝͐̾́̍́ö́ͮ̚ċ̦̝̜̲̲̰̾̌ͥ̍̈́͐̀k̦̬̩̭̬͍͚̎ͧ̈́́.̰̱̩̩̭̘̂