Recording Transcript

Title: Twisted Echoes of a Mind Fractured Beyond Repair - Recording 001
Speaker: Dr. Elias Hensleigh
Date: February 17, 1986
Recording Location: Mindfall Labs, Lower Isolation Wing

The recording begins with static, followed by the low hum of fluorescent lights and the faint clinking of metal instruments in the background. Dr. Hensleigh’s voice is calm but tinged with a certain clinical detachment, as though he’s forcing himself to remain in control.

Dr. Hensleigh:

"It begins with a simple question, doesn't it? What makes us who we are? Memories? Emotions? Experiences stitched together like threads in a tapestry? But what if we could untangle those threats, separate the strands, and reweave them into something...better? More enduring? Something incapable of fraying."

He pauses, the sound of him lighting a cigarette crackles over the recording.

"The Mind Reclamation Initiative was meant to answer that question. Extract the essence of a person, store it, replicate it, improve it. Imagine the possibilities--immortality without the cumbersome burden of a failing body. But there's a cost to stepping into the unknown, isn't there? You never know what might be waiting on the other side."

"The first trials were promising. Subjects retained their memories. Their personalities seemed intact. But then...anomalies began to surface. Fluctuations in their responses. Fractured speech patterns. Drams they couldn't explain, memories that weren't theirs. At first, I thought it was a noise--data corruption, a flaw in the system."

His voice lowers, almost a whisper.

"It wasn't a noise. It was something else."

"Last night, Subject 14 began speaking in a language none of us recognized--an ancient dialect, far older than anything they should have known. They described places they'd never been, people who never existed...and something else. Something that watches. They kept repeating one phrase over and over: 'The Beheaded World calls to us.'"

There's a sharp intake of breath as though Hensleigh is struggling to maintain composure.

"This isn't just fractured memory. It's an intrusion. Something is leaking through the gaps we've created in their minds. Something we don't understand. I've seen things, too. Shadows where there should be none. Whispers in the silence. My dreams...they're changing."

"Click"--a pen taps against the desk repeatedly, the rhythm uneven.

"I told the board we needed to suspend the program. They said I was paranoid, that I was reading too much into these... irregularities. Maybe they're right. Maybe I've spent too much time down here, too close to the subjects. But I can feel it--whatever this is, it's growing. Spreading."

"I can't shake the feeling that we've opened a door that was meant to stay closed. If that's true...Xaerithaleth help us all."

There's a long silence before he speaks again, his voice quieter now, more fragile.

"This recording is for my own clarity. A record of my thoughts, should I begin to lose them. I'll continue observing, continue testing. But if I'm wrong... if this isn't a temporary anomaly... then I fear the fractures we've created might never heal."

The sound of him extinguishing his cigarette is audible before the recording ends in a burst of static.