Speaker 1: Calaroga Shark Media.
Speaker 2: Welcome to the Sirens Call, a special Romance Weekly and
Ghost Scary Stories crossover event. This is episode two Currents.
Speaker 1: The submersible Deep Current descends through layers of increasingly dark water,
its lights carving a small sphere of visibility in the
vast Pacific depths. Beside me in the cramped cockpit, Chi
Pilots are descent with the kind of intuitive precision that
comes from years of deep water experience or something else.
Entirely passing eight hundred dred feet, he announces his voice
calm despite the crushing darkness outside our titanium hull. The
first formations should be visible soon. I check our instruments,
noting the depth gauge, pressure readings, and acoustic senses that
will help map whatever we find down here. But I'm
also acutely aware of Kai's presence in the confined space,
the way he moves with fluid efficiency, the way his
eyes seem to pierce the darkness beyond our lights, the
way my pulse quickens whenever our shoulders brush. Since last
night's encounter with the mysterious Song, I've been unable to
stop thinking about his warning be careful around the water
at night. There was knowledge in his voice, certainty about
dangers he shouldn't understand, combined with his unusual diving abilities
and evasive answers about his background, and beginning to suspect
that Chai Nereon knows far more about the disappearances than
he's admitted there, he says, pointing through the forward viewport,
do you see them? At first? I see only the
usual deep ocean landscape, sediment covered plains, punctuated by occasional
outcroppings of rock. Then as our lights sweep across the seafloor,
geometric shapes begin to emerge from the darkness, structures too
regular to be natural, too ancient to be human. My god,
I breathe, leaning forward against my harness, How is this possible?
What lies before us defies explanation. Massive stone constructions rise
from the ocean floor, not crude ruins, but sophisticated architecture,
with flowing curves and intricate surface patterns. The structures seemed
to pulse with their own rhythm, as if they're somehow alive.
Despite being obviously ancient. The geological surveys of this area
showed nothing like this. I say, my scientific mind struggling
to process what I'm seeing. These formations would have been
detected decades ago. Kai's hands move over the controls with
practiced ease, bringing us closer to the nearest structure. Some
things exist beyond the reach of conventional detection, he says, quietly.
Some things prefer to remain hidden. There's something in his
tone that makes me look at him more closely. In
the blue glow of our instrument panels, his profile seems sharper,
more defined, as if the depths bring out aspects of
him that remain hidden on the surface. You've been here before,
I realize, not just in submersibles. You've seen these structures
up close. A pause that stretches too long. The acoustic
mapping required detailed surveys, he says, Finally, multiple dives to
understand the full extent of the formations, but I notice
he doesn't actually answer my question. Again, we maneuver closer
to the largest structure, a spiraling tower that rises nearly
two hundred feet from the seafloor. Its surface is covered
with intricate carvings that seem to shift and flow in
our lights, creating patterns that are hypnotic, almost musical in
their rhythm. The craftsmanship is incredible, I murmur, recording everything
with our external cameras. These symbols, they're not like any
ancient script I've seen, But there's definitely intentional design here,
deliberate artistry. Kai extends the submersible's mechanical arm to take
samples from the structure's surface. As the tool makes contact,
our acoustic sensors register something unexpected, a low frequency vibration
that seems to resonate through the water itself. Are you
getting this, I ask, checking our recording equipment, The structures
are acoustically active, Kai confirms, but there's tension in his voice. Now.
They respond to contact, to proximity, almost as if as
if what as if they're trying to communicate. The vibration intensifies,
becoming more complex, more structured. Through our hydrophones, it almost
sounds like voices, not human voices, but something that carries
meaning intension. The patterns are hauntingly beautiful, reminiscent of the
song I heard last night. Kai, I say, a chill
running through me. This sound, it's similar to what I
heard at the dock. His hands still on the controls.
We should move away, from the structure. The acoustic effects
can be disorienting at close range, but even as he speaks,
the sound is changing, becoming more melodic, more compelling. I
find myself leaning toward the speakers, drawn by harmonies that
seem to speak directly to something deep within me. Marina
Kai's voice cuts through the mesmerizing sound. Don't listen too closely,
focus on my voice instead. Why what's happening to me?
The same thing that happened to you last night, the
same thing that's been happening to the missing cruise. His
eyes meet mine, and in them I see fear, not
for himself, but for me. These structures aren't just ancient architecture.
They're active, functional, functional. How before he can answer, alarms
begin sounding throughout the submersible. Our navigation systems flicker, depth
readings fluctuate wildly, and the acoustic sensors emit a piercing
wine that forces us both to cover our ears equipment malfunction,
Kai says, grimly, working to stabilize our systems. The acoustic
interference is affecting our electronics, But as he speaks, I
notice something that stops my breath. Outside our viewport, the
structures around us are beginning to glow, not with reflected
light from our floods, but with their own internal luminescence.
The carvings on their surfaces pulse with rhythmic light that
matches the compelling music filling our speakers. We need to surface,
I say, though part of me, a growing part, doesn't
want to leave this magical, impossible place. This is beyond
anything we're equipped to handle. Kai's hands fly over the controls,
attempting to restart our ascent systems. I'm trying. The interference
is affecting our ballast controls. The music from the structures
grow stronger, more insistent through our speakers. It sounds like singing, now,
wordless but full of meaning, promising knowledge and experiences beyond
human understanding. I feel myself drawn to it, my rational
mind overwhelmed by the beauty of the sounds. Marina Kai
says urgently, you need to stay focused, don't let the
song take cold. But it's beautiful. I protest, my voice,
sounding dreamy even to my own ears. Can't you hear
how beautiful it is? I can hear it, he says, quietly,
better than you know. But beauty isn't always safe with
tremendous effort. He manages to restart our ascent systems. The
submersible begins to rise, pulling away from the glowing structures
and their irresistible song. As we climb, the music fades.
It's hold over me, gradually weakening, but our troubles aren't over.
At fifteen hundred feet, new alarms sound. This time. It's
our life support systems showing warning signs. Carbon dioxide scrubbers
are failing. Chai reports, his voice tense. We have maybe
thirty minutes of good air remaining. I check our position,
calculate ascent times. Can we make it to the surface,
Not directly, but there's an underwater cave system about a
quarter mile from here, natural air pockets where we can
surface temporarily while I repair the scrubbers. He's already changing
our heading, guiding us toward a section of the seafloor
that rises into craggy underwater cliffs. As we approach, I
see the dark mouth of a large cave opening, its
entrance easily wide enough for our submersible. Are you sure
about this? I ask? As we nose into the cavern.
If we get trapped in there, trust me, Kai says,
and something in his voice makes me do exactly that.
The cave system is larger than I expected, with multiple
chambers and passages extending into the darkness. Kai navigates with
uncanny precision, as if he's been here before, guiding us
through no narrow openings and around submerged rock formations. Finally,
we surface in a large, air filled chamber, our lights
illuminating a cavern that stretches beyond our vision. The water
here is crystal clear, and I can see that the
cave walls are covered with the same type of carvings
we observed on the seafloor structures. Where are we? I ask,
as Kai shuts down our engines an old place, he says, evasively,
A sanctuary of sorts.
Speaker 2: A Siren's Call has been a production of Calaroga Shark
Media Executive producers Mark Francis and John McDermott. AI assistance
may have been used in the series.