Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Audio
The second voice coming through the banquet hall speakers belonged to a man whom everyone in the room believed had vanished off the face of the earth five years prior. It was the voice of Arthur Vance, Julian’s former business partner and the man whose sudden disappearance had left a multimillion-dollar company in ruins and a cloud of suspicion hanging over Julian’s head.
If you are hearing this recording, Arthur’s calm, measured voice resonated through the massive speakers, it means Julian has finally married the person who helped me orchestrate my own vanishing act.
A collective gasp swept through the banquet hall like a sudden gust of wind. Guests stood up from their velvet chairs, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of Julian and Elena at the front of the room.
Julian staggered backward, colliding sharply with the edge of the tiered wedding cake. The white fondant structure wobbled, and a delicate sugar rose tumbled off, shattering silently on the polished marble floor. He didn't even notice. His ears were ringing, drowning out the murmurs of the stunned crowd.
Elena pressed her palms against her ears, squeezing her eyes shut as if blocking out the sound could erase the reality unfolding around her.
Shut it off! Elena screamed, breaking her composed facade as tears streamed down her carefully contoured face. Somebody turn it off!
Maya stood her ground, completely unfazed by the chaos erupting around her. She maintained her grip on the microphone, her big, serious eyes fixed on the man in the black tuxedo who was now breathing heavily, his chest expanding and contracting in rapid, shallow bursts.
Julian reached out blindly, his hand trembling as he grabbed the microphone from Maya’s small fingers. He pulled it close to his mouth, his voice a low, dangerous snarl.
Where is he? Julian demanded, staring directly at the projector screen. Where is Arthur?
The audio on the screen paused, leaving a thick, suffocating silence in the room. Then, the portrait of the mysterious woman flickered, shrinking into the corner of the display. A new video file began to load, showing a live timestamp from an undisclosed location.
The screen displayed a dimly lit room with stone walls. In the center of the frame sat a wooden chair, and bound to it with thick nylon ropes was a man who looked remarkably like Arthur Vance, though significantly older, gaunter, and bearing a fresh scar across his left cheek.
Julian dropped the microphone. It hit the marble floor with a sharp, echoing clatter, sending a high-pitched squeal of audio feedback through the hall that made everyone wince.
Elena dropped to her knees, the heavy white fabric of her wedding gown spreading out around her like a shroud. She looked up at Julian, her lips trembling, utterly paralyzed by the horror on the screen.
May you like
Before anyone in the audience could rush forward to help, the bound man on the screen lifted his head slowly, looked directly into the camera lens, and spoke.
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