Cassette Tapes and Ghosts

The voice cut off mid-breath.

Then silence.

The kind that doesn’t fade.
The kind that lingers in your chest long after the sound stops.

El didn’t move. His finger hovered over the stop button, but his eyes never left the console.

Across from him, Sofi just… stared.

Like she was trying to memorize the silence.
Like maybe if she remembered it clearly enough, she could fill in what came next.

“That’s all?” she asked, and her voice broke halfway through the question.

El nodded slowly.

“For now. I’ll try to restore it… no promises.”

She didn’t look at him. Just blinked a few times, like the air had gotten thicker.

“That hum… that was her. She used to do it when we were kids.”
“She said it was how she kept the monsters away at night.”

Her voice was calm, but the edge was too smooth. Too practiced.

El didn’t speak.

So she filled the silence.

They sat on the floor by the window.

The rain had returned in whispers — brushing against the glass like fingertips.

Sofi cradled her tea like she was afraid it would spill if she loosened her grip.

“I was supposed to be there with her,” she said. “We were gonna swim. She was already in the water when I said, ‘Give me ten minutes.’ My phone was dying, and I wanted to charge it. Stupid, right?”

El stayed still. Let her speak. Let her breathe.

“When I came back, the water was calm. Too calm. Her towel was still there. Shoes. Phone.”
“I thought she was playing a prank.”

Her fingers tightened around the mug.

“I walked the shoreline for hours. Screaming her name. Cursing her. Crying. Laughing. I thought she was hiding behind the rocks.”
“I waited until the sky turned black.”
“And when they pulled her out the next day… she was still smiling.”

El’s chest ached.

But Sofi didn’t cry. She just stared out the window like the ocean might answer her if she kept looking long enough.

“She always smiled when she swam,” Sofi whispered.
“I think that’s why it haunts me. I never got to see her afraid. Never got to see her fight. She just… disappeared.”

El finally spoke.

“You don’t sound like someone who’s at peace with it.”

Sofi laughed, dry and low.

“That’s because I’m not.”
“But I learned how to act like I am.”

There was a long pause.
No thunder. No wind. Just the soft rhythm of rain and memory.

“You know,” she added, softer, “I only come back here once a year. Same week. Same spot on the beach. I sit there and wait. Like an idiot. Like maybe I missed something.”

El didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t know how to hold someone’s grief when he hadn’t even figured out his own.

But something inside him stirred. Like a ripple through water. A sound from long ago.

A voice. Screaming. Not hers. Not his.
A flash of blue. Blood in the water.

His hand trembled.

Flash – Repressed Memory Fragment

Running.
Cold waves.
A hand slipping from his.

Pain. Panic. A scream swallowed by the tide.
Then nothing.

“El?”

He blinked. Realized he was gripping the edge of the console too tight.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Sorry. Long night.”

She didn’t press.

“You’re weird,” she said instead. “But not in a bad way.”

She smiled at him again. Not bright. Not sarcastic. Just… tired.

“Anyway, I’m not giving up on the tape. But I’m not expecting miracles, either.”
“If it breaks, it breaks.”

El looked at her.

“That’s a lie.”

She stared at him. Then, slowly… nodded.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “It is.”

El Alone in the Studio

The studio was empty again.

The cassette machine whirred softly in the dark, like a heartbeat that refused to stop.

El hit rewind.
Then play.

The hum returned.

Faint. Familiar.

His hand hovered near the volume knob, but he didn’t touch it.

“Why does this sound like something I once tried to hold onto?”
“Why does it feel like I was there?”

End of Episode 3
Next: El finds a fragment in the audio that cracks open the past.