Suddenly, he noticed something in the background of the recording. Amidst the rhythmic jingling of zills, there was a faint, rhythmic thumping—not a drum, but a heartbeat. And then, a whisper in a language he couldn’t name, right in his left ear.
He reached for the "Stop" button, but his fingers felt heavy, moving through invisible honey. The music surged. The zills grew louder, faster, ringing with a frequency that made the glass of water on his desk ripple in perfect geometric patterns.
He froze. He hadn't moved his head, but the sound felt like it was coming from the corner of the room, not the speakers.