Chapter 1 – Name That Anomaly

To start things off, it’s been a long, long time since I talked about this. When we were last all together, it was June 27th 2010. The day our city suffered its worst blackout in the modern age. We called it “The day of separation”.

We’ll get to why, eventually.

My job, for now, is to tell this story in its entirety with no omissions of the truth, no holding back. 10 years is long enough to hold onto this story, though I’m sure many of you are asking why I’m bothering to tread on old ground, bring up bad memories and re-open old wounds.

It’s because the channel has started showing up again. Not just in my home, but in that of my friends, my family and even on TV forums. Random folks are now asking what kind of PR stunt this is; bemused at best and morbidly curious at worst.

Heaven help them if they watch it long enough.

So, I will present our dictations in full and the way we created them at the time with some aftermath commentary afterwards. Things may be disjointed, but they are exactly as described in the hopes it jogs someone’s memory from the summer of 2010. Maybe they saw what we saw.

Maybe they lost what we lost.

We were a group of six friends known affectionately as The Fellowship: Preston, Warren, Millie, Mathias, Fay and me, Tristan. A group of 17 year olds that society largely didn’t pay attention to were always going to have an equally unappealing name pulled right from fantasy lore. We had weekly gatherings to review TV shows that caught our eye, record them for posterity and most importantly, to have fun with. Preston always said we’d become famous for our tv reviews.

He just didn’t know how right he was at the time.

God, none of us did.

Every Friday night, the guys would do a snack run and turn up ladened with good vibes and great food. We’d shoot the shit, play some Smash Bros and then when it reached the early hours, we’d get out our research material, prepare our notes and go channel hunting.

Not for your average weird shit, of course. We had access to a special network.

I just remember the elation over a late night meeting, the wide eyes and grinning teeth as we realised we’d stumbled upon something special, something unique.

Something that promised to show content beyond anything the general public knew about.

I’m not sure who else knows of the channel, but I have to believe someone does. If you see this and it jogs your memory… please, reach out.

Have you ever seen a channel on your TV called “Beneath The Static?”

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (FINAL)

The Fellowship wasn’t interested in the run-of-the-mill channels that everyone knew about. We were fully aware that in order to get the attention of the wider community and net ourselves some of that sweet, sweet, online fame & youtube bucks, we needed to go deeper.

We needed to find the weird shit that nobody talks about.

The guys got here around 9:30. Fay was at the foot of my bed, already near completion of her latest drawing; a red ankh symbol clutched by her in a Pharaoh’s outfit, a drawing of me on the throne next to her, in identical clothing with a look of disdain and a speech bubble above me saying “reincarnation, again?” her bubble comically replying with “ANKHTUALLY”.

“Nice, you’ve gone for both confusing and funny in the same scene.” I looked over as I headed for the door.

“It describes our twin-ship quite perfectly; weird, confusing and funny.” She brushed a lock of dyed red hair behind her ear and began shading as the door knocked again. But instead of opening, I flipped the latch and opened it ever so slightly, putting on my most royal voice.

“Pray tell, what is the password?”

“You’re a virgin?” The big guy in front quipped, laughter coming from the other 3 behind him.

“Mmm that doesn’t appear to be right, my good man, for your mother did decree I was rather stupendous in the boudoir!” Hamming up the dramatics as the boys burst out laughing, asking once more. “The password, if you would.”

“Konami Code” They all said in unison as I grinned.

“Mmm you may pass.”

The door swung open to reveal a still chuckling Preston, Warren, Mathias & Millie.

Preston, easily the largest of the group and someone who once ate a dead bird on a dare (but if you ask him, he just took a nibble), walked in first; he was a jolly kind of guy wearing an oversized sweater with khakis and never seemed to have an issue with his weight, his curly black hair in an exceedingly neat afro that he combed over constantly.

Warren was the absolute opposite, a short but well-built loudmouthed punk clad in studs and denim, a total extrovert sporting a bright red mohawk so tall it bounced off the door frame as he sauntered in, high-fiving me as he passed and headed straight for our fridge. Warren always needed extra snacks.

Millie followed swiftly behind, adorned in vintage gothic clothing complete with a “lucky cat’s paw” around her neck and an amulet her mother gave her.

“It’s got special powers.” She once said to us after we asked about it, clutching it and staring wide-eyed. “You’ll always find me when I have this on, it emits chakra energy or some shit.” Before waving her arms comically. She was funny, I liked her.

Last but by no means least was our tv trivia guy, Mathias. He brought his laptop from home and let me use it to dictate what unfolded, he’d then edit it, make us sound better than we were and put it together for the blog. Tall, lean and shy, his long brown hair pulled into an awkward ponytail so it wouldn’t get in the way of his glasses, he wasn’t the best-looking dude, but he was a legitimately nice guy and that went far. Even if it wasn’t far enough to get my sister’s attention.

With the group here, we headed down to the basement and began setting everything up. Before we knew it, 11:30 hit and Mathias revealed what we were watching tonight while fiddling with the settings on my tv.

“The fuck is Beneath The Static? A documentary?” Warren asked, chewing pretzels and spraying bread everywhere. Mathias shook his head.

“Nope, I heard it’s a sort of “hidden channel”, the type you can’t get without special access. You gotta know what you’re doing.” He reached behind the TV and opened his bag, a sea of cables and connectors viewable as he fumbled with them. As Warren protested, he threw up a dismissive hand. “Patience, patience. Let a guy work.”

“Hold up… we’re not gonna watch… y’know… porn, are we?” Preston’s eyes darted around the room nervously, Millie laughed.

“If we are, I want dibs on the kind we watch.” She chimed in, confidently. I swear I could hear the other guy’s pants get a little tighter.

“Nah, you’d choose some sick-o content or a snuff film.” I smirked, breaking the tension between a ton of hormonal teens. We laughed, and I heard the click of the TV spring to life as Mathias emerged from behind the cabinet, dusting his hands off and passing me the laptop.

“Fay, could you grab the lights?” He beamed at her, taking a seat on the recliner conveniently next to hers. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get started.”

What follows is the transcript, including timestamps as I dictated it. I’ve taken the time to highlight who is speaking and how they reacted to what’s going on. Given what we discovered in this entry, it’s important.

00:01m: The screen flickered to life and an exceedingly poor logo formed in the centre as the surrounding static became the backdrop, even the sounds meshing with some stock jazz music. It looked like public access television; it was that level of amateur.

“You’re watching Beneath The Static. Up next: Name That Anomaly with JJ Watson!”

The show begins with a distorted crowd calling out “Name. That. Anomaly!” In unison, the clapping like the sound of the static echoing and bouncing off itself despite the quality of the show looking to be in HD. The set is a simple black curtain backdrop with a microphone in the centre and a slew of lights bathing the small stage in a blue-ash tinge. The voice off-screen calls for the host as the jazz music swells.

Warren: The 90s called, they want their shitty game show back. What is that music? Did they just rip it from a fucking soundboard?

Millie: Come on, Warren. This is probably a low-budget studio, I wouldn’t expect too much.

Mathias: It’s pretty common for them to use royalty free music where they can, often times they’ll simply change the key or the tempo enough that you don’t notice the differences right away. Plus, if this is low budget, they’re operating pretty well. Reminds me of early episodes of Jeopardy.

00:02m: JJ Watson walks onto stage. He walks with his back leaned away like he’s doing the limbo, his torso stretching out farther than it feasibly should, his knees bent at odd angles as he fully emerges onto the stage. The crowd calling out a “wooooah” as he circled his hands for them to get louder. He snapped his torso up in one swift motion, the snap audible as another camera cut to his face. The perfect bronze skin, smooth black hair parted to one side with not a single lock out of place, shimmering white teeth like great pillars and big blue eyes, pupils dilated and staring at us.

“Welcome, folks! It’s a wonderful time being here!” “Being here is wonderful!” The crowd chimed back as he paused for their interjection before they clapped.

“We have a lovely family partaking in today’s show, the cameras are in place and our microphone is set up. We know they’ve been having some troubles and hopefully through our fabulous show, we can ease those troubles. After all, that’s the JJ difference!” He winks and grins widely at the camera, it’s unnerving. “Now, shall we get started?”

Preston: This guy makes me uneasy, like a substitute teacher you just KNOW likes the kids a bit too much.

Fay: He’s got that Hollywood aesthetic but with an 80s vibe. What was that guy who kissed all the contestants?

Tristan: Richard Dawson. He used to run Family Feud in the 90s.

Fay: Ew, yeah, him. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but fuck that.

Mathias: He actually stopped in the revival as a promise to his young daughter. But still…

Warren: Wait… what the fuck is that?

00:05m: JJ gestures to a section off camera and we’re greeted with several tv screens, all flickering on as carefully positioned cameras in a household begin broadcasting. The kitchen, master bedroom, kid’s room, basement and living room are all on full display, it’s the evening and there’s a pair of adults sleeping in the master bedroom.

He taps on a separate microphone attached and breathes heavily into it for a few moments. Wheezing and making it as intense as possible as he pushes his body against the screens. Immediately, the pair stir from their sleep and the man leaps out of bed, his entire head blurred and darting his eyes around wildly.

JJ takes this opportunity to cease his heavy breathing, look back at the crowd with a boyish grin and say into the stage mic: “Well, SOMEONE got up on the wrong side of the bed!” Winking as the crowd laughs before proceeding to violently grunt into the mic again.

“WHO’S THERE?!” The subtitles flash up, the woman clearly frightened and running for the kid’s bedroom to check on the baby, wailing in their crib.

“I have a question for you, man of the house!” JJ declared in his professional voice, a side camera now showing his cold expression as he once again leans in close to the microphone. “First question: What’s that coming from your basement?”

Millie: What kind of fucking game show is this? Did we stumble upon some kind of bizarre prank show?

Tristan: Seems like it’s real, just based on how the couple are reacting. I’ve been spooked out of my bed enough times to know that feeling.

Fay: Oh c’mon, it was twice. Tristan: Shut up, you know what I mean. Mathias: The only thing that springs to mind is some of the more unusual Japanese shows, but this… this seems too real.

Preston is leaning forward, his eyes fixed on the screen. Warren shares a look with me and shrugs.

00:11m – There’s a flash on the screen as something in the basement stirs and rushes up the stairs, smashing itself repeatedly into the door as the Father grabs a weapon from his gun cabinet and rushes downstairs, shouting to his wife to “protect Esther!’. Preston twitches when he says this. He runs down to the basement door where it’s barely on its hinges and fires 3 shots off before the camera feeds cut out and JJ turns back to the audience, grinning from ear to ear. His tanned skin shimmering in the bright lights.

“Well folks, we certainly gave him a spook! We’ll check back in with him after our commercial break. But before we go, can anyone at home name that anomaly?” He leans in, the smile not breaking and the eyes unblinking. “Anyone?”

There’s a solid 20 second pause of him just staring in silence.

Mathias: How is he holding it for so long? Why isn’t the crowd reacting? Is this pre-recorded?

Millie: Those eyes… I can’t look at him head on.

Preston: Feels like he knows something… I just can’t figure out what.

Tristan: Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I blinked.

Warren: Dude’s got a thousand-yard stare and I need another thousand yards distance between the two of us.

Fay: That’s the sort of shit I’d draw in my nightmares. Preston: This is… this is uncomfortable.

00:12m – JJ breaks his stare and takes a bow before the lights dim and the crowd applauds.

“I’m sure someone out there got it, but don’t worry if you didn’t, we’ve still got plenty to come up on-” and the crowd join him in unison as the titular show name rings out above him in neon lights “name. that. anomaly!”

As the stock advertisements about energy drinks and various medications, I take stock of how everyone is reacting around me. Mathias is furiously scribbling notes and muttering to himself, Millie has crossed her legs and is talking AT him for answers, but I think she’s just in need of a stream of consciousness. Fay is drawing JJ’s too perfect face while Warren stuffs his mouth with pretzels and tries to think up creative offensive names for the show. Only Preston and myself are silent throughout. He shoots me a nervous glance and runs his hands over one another, breathing heavily before forcing a smile and nodding. I’m worried.

The music chimes in after a couple of minutes and everyone’s focus switches. More of us are sitting forward now than we were before. It’s beginning to dawn on everyone that this may not be a prank show.

Tristan: Hey Mathias… where did you say you got this from?

Mathias: I didn’t.

00:20m – The show fades in and JJ is still standing there, his green tweed suit shining as the spotlights fall on him. It looks like he hasn’t even moved from his spot since the break began.

“Welcome back, folks. When we last left our guests, they were in a tight spot with the anomaly downstairs. Did anyone in the crowd guess what it might’ve been?” He extends out a hand over his ear as some shouts spill out from off camera. One echoes louder than the others, almost intentionally.

“RESENTMENT!” It bellows. JJ’s eyes light up and he claps his hands.

“That’s right! As we know, anomalies can be negative emotions as much as they can be spectres. Bravo, you’ll get your award after the show ends! Now, let’s check in with them and see how they’re getting on!”

As JJ walks over to the screens, his knees buckle and crack to accommodate him, though it seems to bring him no discomfort. Millie holds back a hurling sound, I don’t blame her.

00:22m – We see the screens flicker on and it’s clear some time has passed. The family has reinforced the locks on their windows and doors, the basement door has been barricaded and food rations are all over the place. It doesn’t look like they’ve left for weeks. The camera switches to a side profile of JJ and he leans in close, tapping on the screen in the kitchen where we can see the family dog sleeping in their bed.

“I love dogs.” He says slowly, his voice dripping with what I can only describe as hunger and perversion. “Don’t you, folks?”

The crowd giggles softly, but it ripples around the set as he taps the mic again and moans. The family bolting upright and the father again screaming, far more panicked this time.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT? WHAT DID YOU PUT IN OUR BASEMENT?!”

JJ smiles and I can see a slither of drool leaving his lips, just for a moment, before he puts on his professional facade.

“Sir, I have another question for you. Are you ready?” The father clearly shouting and signing “NO”, but JJ continues unperturbed.

He starts singing, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“How much is that doggie in the window? The one with the yummy tail.”

Millie: He’s not going to…

Fay: Oh fuck, I think he is…

Preston: Not like this, please.

Millie is clutching her lucky paw, Fay is still drawing while watching, her hands moving freely. Warren stopped stuffing pretzels into his mouth and is frozen.

00:25m – A glowing light appears from outside the back door connected to the kitchen. The dog awakens and backs up, prone and growling as the glow becomes brighter.

The camera cuts to the upstairs bedroom and once again; the father runs downstairs shouting for his dog. JJ keeps singing, his voice breaking.

“How much is that doggie in your kitchen? I do hope that doggies for sale.”

The light engulfs the kitchen for a moment; the father trying desperately to get in and failing as he collapses against the frame, crying. When the light fades, the floor has been coated with viscera, trailing from the spot the dog was at and to the outside of the now ripped open door. JJ’s back hunches over for a moment and when he turns, he wipes his mouth and winks; the crowd voicing their approval.

I feel my stomach turning, Millie excused herself saying “I can’t look at that fucking stare anymore. It reminds me too much of…” before running upstairs and heading to the bathroom. Warren shouted expletives, the rest of us sat there silently as the show continued. My hands shook and Fay put her hands on mine.Fay: Don’t you dare stop typing this. We may have stumbled upon something special.

I swallowed and nodded, Mathias nodding in approval.

00:30m – A spotlight appears above a chair and JJ practically crab walks over to it, bending his back before sitting on it, his back drooping lazily over the headrest before snapping to attention.

“We’ve had fun here tonight, folks. But before we go to our final question for the family, I wanted to take a moment to offer you all some sound advice from your good pal JJ Watson.” He pauses for a moment, his smile slipping and a speck of genuine emotion breaking through, if for a brief second.

“Folks, if there’s one thing I can tell you, it’s that some of the laws of the land aren’t meant to be followed. Say you see someone who has something you want… something you KNOW you deserve more than them. Maybe it’s a new gadget, some food, a family or… maybe a partner.” He winks again, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Well, you should just take it. By force, if you need to. I mean, who are they to stand in the way of your happiness? Who cares if they paid for it? Or if they said no? Or if the person you love is underage?” He stands up and grabs the chair by the top and begins smashing it into the ground.

“TAKE. WHAT. YOU. WANT.” He screeches with each successive smash. Then, nothing remains and after a few laboured breaths, he smooths his hair back and motions back over to the screens.

Fay: What the hell was that? Did he just have a Tom Cruise moment?

Tristan: I don’t know, can you go check on Millie?

Warren: She’ll be down in a minute, I’m sure she just needs some air, chill.

Tristan: I AM chilled, I’m just worried, you know how she can get.

Preston: Guys…

00:38m We cast our eyes back and see the camera is pointing at a hunched over JJ, covering the centre screen and a low drone has filled the speakers. His shoulders are shaking and the seam on his suit is beginning to split, a soft dripping sound echoes as he chooses his words carefully, methodically.

“Now, it’s time to see how the DeMacio family is getting on.” He taps the mic and lets out an elongated croak, as if his oesophagus was pulling something up from the pit of his stomach. The drone gets louder. The camera begins showing active images of the rooms before they each turn to static;

The Kitchen – Covered in a black viscous liquid that’s begun pulsing from the walls.

The Basement – A stumbling, creaking figure, its limbs gripping either side of the support beams and smashing its stunted head into the foundations above it, spraying bone fragments and flesh around the floor.

The Master Bedroom – The bed has been overturned, the words “UNWORTHY. FALSEHOOD. DISEASE” carved into the wall, pieces of furniture and smashed glass everywhere.

The Kids Room – Static but subtitles of screaming and pleas for help flash up.

Warren: This is some Paranormal Activity type shit, the dedication is… man… they gotta be acting, right?

Mathias: I mean, the set-up looks like it’s coming to an end, maybe they’ll reveal it’s all a big stunt like the sort of thing a magician would do? Or a prank?

Fay: You’re talking about a David Blaine, Kris Angel type deal? You really think they’d put in THAT thing in the fucking basement? Kill an animal?

Warren: It’d be the first time you took issue with a dead animal.

Fay: I will reach across this chair and slap the shit out of you, Warren.

Preston: Why did he say DeMacio…

We looked at Preston; we hadn’t made the connection yet, but he had. Tears were streaming down his face and he was sat forward, eyes unblinking at the screen, his hair matted from sweat. I see his lips mouth the word “hank” and before I can ask, I hear something from the tv. JJ stepped to the side to reveal the Living-Room screen.

00:42m – Hank DeMacio is stood in the centre of his room, covered in wounds and complex scars from head to toe, some looking like symbols where others simply looked random. He was naked and his torso was drenched in blood, face still blurred. The camera focuses on him as he stands unflinching despite the surrounding carnage, the shaking from beneath him or the strange lights emitting from off screen.

The camera then cuts to JJ, his lips are cracked and his teeth are white… too white. His perfect skin looks like it’s quivering as his black tongue laps around his cheeks and in his most professional voice, he says; “Hank… are you ready for your final question? You’re alone now, it’s just us. Your secrets will be laid bare and I will be here for them. So it’s time for your final test…”

He licks his lips. “Name the one emotion you’re feeling above all else?”

The screen cuts to Hank, his hands outstretched as the subtitle reads “Ready”.

Hank clasped around his blurred out head as he starts ripping at the skin, pulling at the blurred edges as streaks of dark red run down his body and the blur begins to pull away, revealing the pulpy, delicate flesh underneath. The group erupts in horror. Preston is screaming.

Mathias: But the blur is added on in post… how is this… oh my god…

Warren: WHAT THE FUCK DUDE? WHAT THE FUCK

Tristan: Mathias, this isn’t real, is it?

Fay: Jesus….

00:44m: When Hank is done, his head is nothing more than a sea of pink, red and rotting flesh, eyes swivelling in their sockets, a faint glow behind them. He walks off screen and comes back on moments later with his gun in his hand. The drone is now at fever pitch; the crowd seems to join in with it, producing it like insects. The camera stays focused on Hank as JJ’s voice cuts through, the professionalism unflinchingly perfect as the faint jingle of the show can be heard.

“Are you ready for your ultimate question, Hank? I’m sure everyone at home is.” He called, Hank nodding, fractured teeth bared from behind ripped lips. “Good… Okay Hank, who are you going to pray to? Name. That. Anomaly!”

Hank mouths something that the subtitles can’t decipher and JJ claps his hands, laughing. The crowd’s drone morphs from a low single rumble to a slow chant of “do it”, the scars on Hank’s body glow and he picks up the rifle. The group screams at him to stop, Preston leaping out of his seat and walking to the TV as Warren and Fay try to calm him down. He puts the barrel of the gun in his mouth and the show turns to static.

The room fills with that deafening noise as panic boils over. It took us a couple of minutes to bring ourselves down and to try and restore normalcy.

Mathias: I’m sure that was just an elaborate hoax. It… it couldn’t be real, right? This is the sorta shit Cannibal Holocaust or Blair Witch could do for ratings. Maybe your Brother was in on it?

Preston: I haven’t heard from Hank in MONTHS, none of us have. They moved out of state because of their personal problems. Said they needed time. Fuck… FUCK!

Warren: Looked real to me.

Fay: What the FUCK, dude?

Warren: I’m just being real, no sense in lying.

Tristan: Time and a place, dude. Someone should tell Millie what happened.

“Oh, I’m sure they know what you all do. That the golden rule must always be abided. Now and forever.”

Millie came down the stairs, white faced and pointing as we turned our attention back to the TV, still filled with static but flickering as the visage of JJ bled through, still on set but his features twisted.

“Remember this, at Beneath The Static we have a very simple set of beliefs, one that I’m sure all of you fine people at home believe. Whether you’re old timers, family men or… teenage outcasts.” He cast his eyes from left to right, as if looking at each of us before stopping right in front of Prestons terrified face, his lips curling upwards.

Preston: How is he… HOW THE FUCK IS HE DOING THAT?!

Millie: I don’t know but… that fucking stare…

His voice cut through like frigid air on bare skin, raising the goosebumps and making my heart pound in my chest with words I can still hear long after.

“Family is important, isn’t it? And secrets should always be kept, especially between brothers.” His grin widened, and the static returned in full as Preston began crying.

We spent the next hour quietly talking, Mathias unplugged the TV and refused to speak about where he heard about the show, Preston repeatedly tried calling and texting his brother but to no avail. The rest of us discussed what we saw, but couldn’t come to an agreement other than it was horrifically disturbing. But, we had no proof it was real and no reason to tell our parents. So, we said we’d keep in touch over the next few days and see if anything came of it.

By the time Monday rolled around, it had.

We knew there’d been issues within Hanks family, Preston’s brother was a decade older than him and he’d told us once when we were back in 10th grade that Hank had a few destructive habits; that he had a vicious temper and if he’d off-handedly commented before if he ever found out his wife was cheating, he’d kill her.

Of course, Preston never believed he would, his brother was all talk. But that didn’t stop Preston from unwittingly stumbling upon Hank’s wife having an affair when he’d stopped over unannounced. It was some 9 months before Esther was born and it didn’t take much to put the pieces together.

Hank said he was moving the family out of state to “avoid the shame” and confided in his brother he’d illegally bought a gun “in case things went south”. Preston told no one about that.

He called in the early hours to inform us his brother had taken the lives of his dog, wife, daughter and himself. He’d shot them as they slept and carved something into the walls above his television.

I told him we were watching that channel again next week and though he was grief stricken; he agreed. Because when I asked him what it was, he gritted his teeth, and I felt the bile rise up in my throat;