Mayday call from the Taft
Recorded from a distress call transmitted from the Antarctic sea
A single desperate voice is heard on the tape, hardly audible above the wailing and moaning that filters in from the background
This is the U.S.S. Taft. Please help us! We are under attack. I repeat we are under attack. Something just . . . destroyed the bridge. Everyone is screaming . . . or laughing. I don’t know, but there’s so much blood!
Send rescue crews immediately! Make sure they cover their ears. Our crew has gone mad.
The wailing intensifies
OH SHIT! Its coming for me!
What the hell is that coming under the door! It runs red. The river runs red. The river runs red with blood . . . torrents of it . . .
A second voice is heard
Once he hears to his heart’s content, sails on, a wiser man.
We know all the pains that the Greeks and Trojans once endured
on the spreading plain of Troy when the gods willed it so—
all that comes to pass on the fertile earth, we know it all!
A sharp scream cuts off the voice, then the transmission stops