We’d been monitoring the waters for a few weeks when we found it - the “call of the deep,” as dubbed by our superiors. To us it was the sound that would change everything. We swore we’d be famous. Just wait until they hear this. They’ll know what we know, what it all means. There’s something else, something we never knew about and it’s right down there! We had, before our very ears, recorded audio of underwater rumblings growing so steadily in their intention as to surround our minds in a way previously unheard but somehow recognizable by base instinct as something that could only be described as a voice.
Sheryl had the look on her face that said we shouldn’t be here. She asked if it knew we were listening.
The question might seem obvious, but the silence that fell over our group made it clear that the rest of us hadn’t considered the thought. What if it did? It’s one thing for the sound to simply be there, naturally occurring regardless of our presence. But if it’s “speaking” to us directly? That’s another thing entirely.
Of course, there’s the other question. The one each of us knew we’d be spending the rest of our time here trying to answer - What is it saying?
Time would reveal all. That was the common sentiment in our opening discussions. I remember the unearned arrogance I felt when I told myself, These mysteries will solve themselves. All we have to do is listen.
It’s easy to wonder if things could have gone different, but truth be told, I think we were already past the point of no return. The thing about this sound, which we all came to learn as each of us got the same look on our faces Sheryl had and realized we’d dipped our toes into different waters than we thought, is that once you hear it, you never stop hearing it. You might think you do, but in the quiet moments when your mind can drift just enough to escape its denial, you’ll hear something from just past the edge and realize it’s been there the whole time.
All we had to do was listen. And so we did.
A few days later, I’d been spending so much time with the voice that I didn’t even notice Sheryl was there too until she spoke up. She said something about it sounds familiar. She said she knows it’s not possible, but she almost feels like she heard it before.
For a moment, I felt jealous. Like maybe it spoke to her in a way it wouldn’t to me. I wanted that familiarity. I wanted something I could latch onto and use to make sense of what we were hearing.
I told Sheryl it’s nothing. She just needed a moment away from all this. Maybe I did too.
We didn’t get that. Instead we got an estimation. Someone had run the numbers and figured the source must be about a thousand meters down. They told us to put a camera in the ROV with the best light sources available and send it down there. They said we’ve already heard this thing, now it’s time to see it.
I wouldn’t get to see it. Sheryl would. Instead I was stuck with Dave and we were told to just keep on listening. If something changed, they’d want to know about it.
Dave asked me, once we were alone, how much I’ve been hearing the voice. I told him I’ve been there more often than anyone, he should know that. He said that’s not what he means.
”I know you’ve been here, but listen. Yesterday I was listening, and I mean really listening, like there was nothing except me and the voice. And for a second, just a second, I felt like I could understand it. Like I connected to it. And then, you know what I realized? I was in my own home, sitting in my own bed, looking around at an empty room. This thing, it’s not just down there. I think it’s in me. It’s in my head.”
He didn’t say anything else after that. Neither did I. We both just listened. I didn’t even know how long we’d been there when someone in the crew ran in and asked us if anything was different. Apparently they got the ROV to the spot, looked all around it, and didn’t find anything. I told him the voice never stopped.
It’ll take some trial and error, we were told, we’ve just got to keep at it.
Every day, we’d try again. Every day, they’d find nothing. And every day, I’d keep listening.
We still didn’t know what it was saying.
The voice was repeating itself. We all agreed on that. It had intention, we could feel it, and we began to believe it was focused on a single “message”. It’s not a random attempt at communication. It’s trying to tell us something.
It did know we were listening.
During breaks, Dave liked to ask me what it was like when I went under. I’d done some diving before we found the voice. I was only about twenty meters down, far from the supposed thousand of the source, but Dave seemed sure I must have seen something. I hadn’t, and I told him that. Sometimes I think he’d forget.
The stress was getting to us all. Sheryl especially. Dave told me sometimes she’ll come to hear the voice and when she doesn’t think anyone is paying attention she’ll say something back. He can’t make out what she’s saying but she seems to think the voice can understand her. I asked Sheryl if she knows something we don’t. She didn’t. Then I asked her if they’ve caught anything of note with the camera. She said ”I’m tired of seeing it.”
”Seeing what?”
”Nothing.”
Dave said he’s not sure we can trust her. He also said we might have better luck if we stick our heads underwater and scream, so I wasn’t sure how much confidence I could have in him either.
I didn’t tell them about the dreams I’d been having when I’m a kid again and I’ve done something bad so my parents yell at me but instead of them I just hear the voice from the sea. Or that they feel so real I could swear some of them were memories. I didn’t tell them that sometimes I glance out a window and for a second it looks like the whole building is underwater.
We were losing our minds.
Dave was the first to break.
One day he got up and he told everyone he figured it out. He said it’s been trying to reach us all this time and we just have to let it.
”The voice, I understand it now. We thought we were listening, but we’ve been hiding this whole time. Just let it in and you’ll know it too! It’s calling us home.”
They weren’t able to stop him before he made it to the water. He just dove in, no gear or anything, and started swimming straight down. They did manage to get him out, though. Someone went in right after him with full gear. It’s like they were expecting it.
I remember his face when they dragged him away. His expression, frozen in horror. It’s like he wanted to scream but he couldn’t. He looked right at me.
I didn’t see Dave again after that. Part of me hoped the shock of his breakdown would knock some sense into us, to make us admit we’ve dipped our toes into different waters than we initially believed and maybe we just shouldn’t be here. Instead we were told to move on and keep listening. Before I knew it, Dave was in the past, replaced, like the lives we had before coming here, by the voice.
The days started to blend together. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if I’d gone home the night before or if I’d been there the whole time. The voice had its hold over me. It would give just enough to make me believe I was almost there, just to hold back and leave me with old memories. I remembered being young, being afraid of the water, getting pushed into the deep end and staying down there completely still until someone pulled me back up.
Some days I would catch Sheryl watching me while I listened. I didn’t like how she looked at me. She hated me. She was disgusted.
She was watching me the day she broke.
I saw her across the room, but I tried to pretend like I didn’t. That worked for a while. Then I noticed something off with the voice, something that broke the trance it would usually put me in. I turned and Sheryl was there, right there, inches away from my face, trying to mimic the sound of the voice. It made her mouth contort all sorts of ways and I just sat there because I didn’t know what else to do. When she finally stopped that noise she looked me right in the eyes and said it’s funny, nobody ever told me what they saw down there. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. So she said the rest.
”It was you. We saw you. We saw you and that’s when I started to understand, when I figured it all out. When you went under, you never came back up. You went down and down and down and now you’re way down there, you’re dead, and you’ve been trying to tell us. That’s what we’ve been hearing.”
She told me she could prove it. That she could cut me open and there wouldn’t be blood, it would all be water, and when I saw it I’d finally understand.
She didn’t try that. She stood up as calmly as I’ve ever seen her and she walked away.
I ran in the opposite direction.
The voice followed.
It was louder than ever and seemed to come from every direction. From the walls, from the electronics, from every person I passed who just stood there and stared, emotionless, at my panic. I saw water through all the windows, just like the view when I went under. I couldn’t take it anymore. I fell to my knees. The voice, it surrounded me, I could hear it so clear that it almost felt like a part of me, or I was a part of it, and when it spoke the sound seemed to just exist in my mind, spreading through my thoughts until it compelled me to finally understand its meaning.
”You shouldn’t be here.”
I guess that’s when I broke too.
Sheryl woke me up.
All those people who I ran past before, who stared at me and spoke with the voice’s sound, they had looks of concern on their faces now. Apparently I’d jammed something in my ears. Sheryl said something, I couldn’t make it out, but I looked her in the eyes and I saw the ocean in them. I remember thinking with certainty beyond what I can explain, that’s not Sheryl.
I left. No one tried to stop me.
A few days later I got a call from one of the bosses. He heard I’d been through a “stressful experience.” I told him everything. The voice, Dave, Sheryl. He said it’s simply not possible. He asked me what’s more likely, if my version of events were true, that we discovered some mysterious voice a thousand meters under the sea capable of driving us mad, or if an employee simply gave in to the stress of a tough job. He told me to take some time off, and had a tone that said I shouldn’t argue. I didn’t.
I want to believe it all ended there, but I know that’s not true.
I can still hear it sometimes. Usually when it’s quiet. I do what I can. I don’t sleep much anymore. Staying away from windows helps. And the water. I don’t go near water anymore. But sometimes I’ll drift off when I hear it and I find myself in front of the mirror, staring into the eyes of my own reflection.
And I see the ocean.