Alister put his face back up to the earpiece, despite the pulsating pain behind his eyes.

"Say something damn you!" He yelled down the phone line, hoping to get some message across as he stared at the thread woven into the phone. A few moments passed as the song jammed on. Either no one was on the other end, or they were quite deliberately trying not to communicate with them. Alister hung up the phone, slamming it back onto the cradle with considerable force.

"Don't tell your poppa or--" The phone sputtered out before being cut off.  Alister felt relieved after shutting up the handset. Tatsumi walked up behind him, looking over at the handset.

"I bet it's that same person who got that song to play on the jukebox."  Alister muttered, turning his head back towards Tatsumi.

"Who else would it even be?"

"I don't know, but my head hurts like hell."

"Here." Tatsumi said, pulling a small bottle of ibuprofen out of his pocket.

"It's behind the eyes, right?" He continued, opening the bottle and handing it to Alister. Alister curtly snatched the bottle out of Tatsumi's hand. He pulled out two capsules, dry-swallowing them. As the two resumed their walk down the street, they noticed a row of three less dilapidated payphones. They sat along a faux-wood facade of a restaurant two blocks down from where they were. Alister's stomach sank. They each rang. One of the phones' handsets was already off the hook, and continued the infernal song. Tatsumi and Alister ignored it, the latter having to plug his ears as he followed the thread.

A few minutes passed as the two walked in the eerie, quiet night. The thread's path finally turned, leading towards a neon-infested arcade. It was clearly after-hours for the establishment, but the bright-colored sign shined on. Blackwell's: twenty-five cents a game. The string that flowed from Alister's finger lead right into the glass double-doors.

--EOF-- 4.89 KB