As much as Reiko enjoyed creating her podcast, there was a unique satisfaction that came with finishing the final edits on a new episode. She leaned back on her favourite chair, which was as worn out as she was feeling that night. The only sound that can be heard in the small room she called her studio, was the soft hum of her podcast’s intro music. She rubbed her tired eyes, feeling the kind of exhaustion only a podcaster knows - she looked forward to the satisfaction that came from hours of research, editing, and piecing together an episode.
She always felt that she has not accomplish much in her life. Her one winning achievement? Her podcast, Unsolved Voices, had slowly been growing in popularity the past year. It was a passion project born out of her obsession of wanting to understand why people do the things they do. She spent enough time listening to the likes of Bailey Sarian and Stephanie Soo that she felt confident enough to throw her voice in. Each episode took weeks of research and interviews, but it was worth it every time she hit “publish”. Tonight was no different. She just finished editing her latest episode, one that investigated a long-forgotten robbery from the early 90s, a case that was never solved.
A quick look at her clock told her that it was time to step away from her desk. She finished work past midnight, again. She took her headphones off and unplugged them, getting ready to call it a day (or night). She felt her phone buzz as she dropped it into her pocket. It was a message from her podcast producer, Hana.
“That was awesome! Your engagement is the highest it has ever been. There’s even one weird feedback you may want to check out. Check your email!”
Curious, she sat back down and saw the first unread email with a subject that simply said “Listen to this.”
Reiko hesitated. It was normal to get fan mail or tips after a new episode went up. But his one was odd. Aside from the strange subject, the sender was tagged as “Unknown”.
The curiosity itched at her until she finally opened the email. There was no message, just a single attachment. She cautiously clicked the .mp3 file.
The whole room vibrated with a sudden noise from her speakers. The voice was muffled, as if the person speaking was whispering or had something blocking the mic. It was just clear enough to understand, if you really concentrated. She could make out a man’s voice, rough and older than her usual listener.
“This…I can’t keep this to myself any longer. Someone needs to know… I, I was there. I was there the night of the Koego Robbery… and that… I was there when he died, too. This secret’s been eating at me for too long.”
Reiko froze. The Koego Robbery was the case she covered on a previous episode, an incident that happened almost four decades ago. The case has been unsolved all this time. There just wasn’t enough evidence for the police to investigate further, so it remained a cold case all these years.
Her hands were shaking as she hit pause on the recording. She was used to receiving fan theories after her episodes went up. She was not expecting a confession. And the voice. The voice was faint, as if coming from beyond the grave. Reiko felt a chill down her spine.
She hit replay, her heart beating so loud she could hear it in her ears. The voice continued:
“The others…they don’t know. I have kept silent for too long, and the guilt is tearing me apart. I need to make things right before it’s too late.”
Click. Clack. Her fingers tapped at her keyboard as she took notes of the recording. Could this be real? She researched and dissected this case for weeks before she recorded. Could this be the missing link?
But then another thought struck her. She recognised something in that voice. It was very faint, like someone tried very hard to disguise it. Yet, there was a familiarity to it - something in the tone, the cadence. It was very subtle. Reiko hit replay again, leaning forward, narrowing her eyes at the screen. Her mind raced through memories of her childhood, of the strong, stern man she had grown up with. Could it be? No, that’s impossible.
She quickly picked up her phone, speed dialled 5 - that was Hana’s number. The ringing could be heard echoing throughout the small room.
“Hana, you will not believe what came through,” Reiko said, her voice coloured in excitement and disbelief. “I just received an anonymous tip…a confession…about the Koego Robbery. And… I think I know who it is!”
Hana’s shocked voice came through, her own disbelief clear. “Wait, what? Who do you think it is?”
Reiko paused, staring at her screen with the recording on pause. The voice sounded so…too familiar. It can’t…it can’t be, right?
But Reiko had learned long ago that in her line of work, sometimes truth was stranger than fiction. And the truth she was about to unfold might destroy everything she thought she knew.
“I think it’s my dad,” she whispered.
(Draft of Act One). Feedback is welcome.
amandla
snowghoul
jacobvanloon
turnnoffyourmind
baratheonpilled
