#72: The Third Tape

In the control room, Jackson Madrone lay motionless, the very spot where he had delivered his chilling farewell. Kelsey and her team stood transfixed, their horror mounting as a sinuous mass of thick, dark liquid oozed from the vents, enveloping Madrone’s form.

For a fleeting moment, he vanished beneath its inky embrace before it retreated back into the shadows, leaving no evidence of the sailor it had consumed. Relief washed over Kelsey as she noted the absence of sound on the tape, sparing them from the visceral horror of witnessing Madrone’s final moments in full auditory detail.