As Apollo and Hermes sat in the studio, Apollo was having an absolute blast, spinning tracks and introducing new songs on the radio while they waited for another call. He tapped the desk in rhythm with the music and said with a wide grin, "You know, Herm, I'm having a lot of fun right now."
Hermes, resting his head on his palms with a half-smile, replied, "I mean, I'm enjoying myself too… but I wasn't as active on the previous call. You were kind of doing all the heavy lifting."
Apollo chuckled. "Don't sweat it! I'm sure you'll get to be more active in the next one. Come on, you know I can't hog all the glory forever."
Hermes gave a hopeful shrug. "I hope so."
Then, as if the universe was listening, Hermes perked up. "Caller on line one!"
Apollo picked up the phone—but all they heard was slow, raspy breathing. Then the caller growled in a dramatic, exaggerated voice, "You know my name…"
Apollo and Hermes looked at each other.
In perfect unison, deadpan, they said, "It's a prank," and hung up.
Hermes sighed deeply. "Amateur. He didn't even try."
Apollo leaned back and scoffed, "I know, right? That was just pathetic, even for a bored teenager."
"Hold that thought—call on line one!" Hermes said, snapping upright.
Apollo smoothly picked up the line. "Good evening, caller! You're live on 189.16 The Scream! I'm your host, Apollo. How can I help you this evening?"
A panicked voice came through the line. "What? I dialed 911! I need the sheriff right away!"
Apollo blinked. "Sorry, caller… we're all you've got right now. What's your trouble?"
"My name is Sandra Sharp," she said, her voice shaking. "And I need the cops now!"
Apollo leaned forward. "I'm really sorry, Sandra, but there's no cops left to respond. We've got backup coming in from the next county, but for now… it's just me and Hermes."
"Oh God…" she breathed. "Well… you're going to have to help me, then. I drove to the edge of town for a jazz run and now—now some psycho dressed like the Whistling Man is after me—knife in hand!"
Hermes straightened in his chair, his eyes flashing. "Showtime. Apollo, get your game face on."
Apollo turned back to the mic, voice steady but serious. "Sandra, are you somewhere safe?"
"I'm in my car," Sandra replied quickly. "He doesn't know where I am right now, but he's still out there, looking for me. While I was running from him, I dropped my keys! I'm hidden for now, but I can't move…"
Then, over the line, came the low, eerie sound of whistling.
Sandra gasped. "Oh shoot—he's back!"
She lowered her voice to a whisper. "Look, I don't know anything about cars, but I have to get this thing moving somehow. But I don't have the keys… You're gonna have to help me."
Apollo snapped his fingers. "You're up, Herm."
Hermes cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders with a confident grin. "All right, Sandra. First things first—are there any tools in your car?"
Sandra scanned the vehicle. "Yeah! There's a tool kit in the backseat."
Hermes nodded. "Perfect. Okay, what I want you to do is grab a screwdriver and unscrew the steering column cover."
"Okay… here I go," Sandra said nervously.
Apollo and Hermes tried not to laugh as they heard her muttering, "Okay… one…jazz turn two…jazz turn ugh, how long are these screws?!"
"Okay, got it!" she announced. "What now?"
Hermes kept his voice steady. "I need you to read me the serial number."
Sandra replied, "The number is 576-894-320."
Hermes repeated it under his breath, thinking quickly. "Okay—strip and twist together the red and yellow wires."
Sandra began to sing to herself, her nerves clearly showing. "Okay… we take the red and yellow wire, and we twist, and we turn…"
Apollo stifled a snort. Hermes shook his head with a grin.
Sandra continued, "Okay, I also see a pink and a purple wire. What do I do next?"
Hermes answered smoothly, "Strip the purple wire and brush it against the twisted wires."
Once again, Sandra sang under her breath. "Okay… we strip, and we brush…"
Suddenly, the car roared to life.
"Woohoo! Energize that body! Fantastic work, baby! Anytime you want to come down to the jazz studio, you get in for free!"
Hermes laughed. "Just keep driving and get home safe, Sandra."
Apollo added with a wink in his voice, "Yeah—get home safe."
"Will do, babies!" she cheered, then drove off.
Hermes threw his hands in the air. "Yeah, baby! That's how it's done!"
Apollo clapped proudly. "Great job, Herm. Damn—we're good at this."Hermes said, "Damn right we are! All right, put on a song—I'm gonna go see if there's any food around."
Apollo nodded and spun up a smooth record, letting the tune drift through the studio. Not long after, Hermes returned, balancing a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack in the other.
"This was in the kitchen with a note from Tet," he said, setting it all down. "It just says: 'You're doing good. Keep it up.'"
Apollo chuckled, his eyes lighting up. "Well, I won't say no to free pizza."
They sat back and ate a quick lunch, casually chatting while waiting for the next call.
Then, at 12:42 p.m., Hermes leaned forward. "Caller on line one!"
Apollo grabbed the line with his usual high energy. "Good evening, caller, and welcome to 189.16 The Scream! You're on with Apollo!"
A man with a slight accent came on the line. "Hey, Apollo! My name's Brian—Brian Ponty of Ponty's Pizza!"
Apollo blinked and instantly deadpanned, "Hello, Brian. Nice to meet you. No free ads."
He immediately hung up.
Hermes raised a brow and looked over. "That was a bit mean, man."
Apollo shrugged with a light sigh. "Sorry. It's a pet peeve of mine from back in the day. Local businesses used to call during my kids' shows, trying to sneak in free promos."
Hermes asked, "How'd you know he was trying to get a free ad?"
Apollo replied, "He didn't have to say it. 'Brian Ponty of Ponty's Pizza?' Come on. That name drop was practically a commercial."
Hermes smirked and leaned back. "Fair."
The two of them returned to chatting as they sat around waiting for another call.
Hermes leaned back with a sigh and said, "Man, it's so weird not having my divinity. Like, on one hand, I'm not feeling the urge to always be on the move anymore, which is… oddly relaxing. But on the other—I feel weak. Vulnerable."
He glanced over and saw Apollo leaning back in the chair, legs crossed, eyes half-lidded as he relaxed to the music playing in the background.
Hermes tilted his head. "How are you doing it?"
Apollo replied, voice calm and tinged with familiarity, "You forget… this isn't the first time I've been turned human."
"Oh, right. My bad," Hermes said, wincing.
Apollo waved him off, eyes still closed. "It's all good. Wasn't your fault."
Then Hermes hesitated before asking, "You ever feel… bitter toward the old man for that?"
Apollo's easy smile vanished. His eyes opened, and for a rare moment, there was no playfulness—only quiet rage.
"Every damn day," Apollo said, voice low but steady. "Not just for that… but for so many other things. His goddamn ancient laws, for one. Thanks to those, I've had to watch all my kids—every single one—grow up without me."
He paused, exhaling slowly. "I know you and the others feel it too. I'm not trying to make light of your pain, Herm… but I have it worse than all of you. Because during the daytime—every single day—the entirety of the world is laid out before my eyes."
He looked over at Hermes now, the fire behind his eyes burning cold. "Because of that, I've witnessed the birth and death of every one of my kids. I've seen them die peacefully—those deaths, I can stomach. They're out of my hands. But then there are times—too many times—where I've had to watch them get torn apart by monsters… and I'm powerless to do a damn thing about it."
Hermes' eyes widened. His usual calm was replaced with raw sympathy.
"Apollo, man… I'm sorry. I didn't know. Can I do anything? Anything at all?"
Apollo shook his head gently. "Nah, man. You can't. And besides—you shouldn't have to. Zeus needs to answer for it. And he will, one day. But enough about that…" He sat up a bit straighter, letting the mask of calm return. "Let's focus on what we're doing now, yeah? Enough with the heavy stuff."
Hermes nodded, his voice softer. "All right. But if you ever need to talk… you know where to find me."
"Appreciate it," Apollo said, offering him a genuine, grateful smile.
Just then, a call came through.
Hermes cleared his throat. "Caller on line one."
Apollo took a breath, sat up, and picked up the phone. His professional tone snapped back into place with polished charm.
"Good evening, caller! Welcome to 189.16 The Scream! You're on with Apollo. How can I help you tonight?"
They heard a gruff, older voice on the other end. "Yeah, Leslie—I was working late—wait, Apollo? I called 911! Let me speak to Leslie!"
Apollo responded smoothly, "Can't do that, caller. We're 911 tonight. Leslie's on her way to Henderson County. What's your name?"
"The name's Maurice. Maurice Russell, kid," he replied, sounding slightly irritated. "Now never mind that. Just put me through to Sheriff Matthews."
Apollo's voice softened slightly. "I'm afraid I can't do that either. Sheriff Matthews is… dead."
There was a long pause. Then Maurice said, "Dead? When? How? Did you witness the incident? Would you mind giving an exclusive interview to the reporter? I can cite you as an anonymous source if you don't feel comfortable giving your name."
Apollo blinked. "First of all—I've got no problem getting my name out there. Second—you're live on air. Everything you're saying right now? Everyone's already heard it."
Maurice paused. "Live on—? Oh, forget it. Clearly there's more going on than I know about."
Apollo leaned forward. "What's going on on your end?"
Maurice replied, with a sigh that masked growing tension, "Nothing too bad… just some dumbass kid dressed like the Whistling Man broke into the building. He's downstairs right now, wrecking the place."
Apollo's tone turned sharp. "That's not a kid. That's the Whistling Man."
Maurice scoffed. "Don't be an ass. The Whistling Man died fifty years ago."
Apollo raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping sarcasm. "Yeah? And copycat killers aren't a thing?"
There was a beat of silence, and when Maurice spoke again, all the smugness and superiority were gone. "Oh. Yeah… that's a good point."
Hermes jumped in, all business. "Okay, okay, let's focus on getting you out of this situation. Where's the exit to the building?"
There was a loud crash on the other end, followed by static and the sound of skittering movement. Then Maurice's voice returned, quieter now, shaken. "Blocked off. Someone jammed several filing cabinets against the door."
Apollo exhaled through his nose. "Okay. That's not ideal… Is there any other way out of the building?"
Maurice said, "No, there's no other way out."
Then Hermes said, "Then we're going to have to find a way to buy you enough time to move the filing cabinets so you can get out. Here's what we're going to do. I'm assuming there are multiple offices on your current floor?"
Maurice replied, "Yeah, that's right."
Hermes nodded. "All right. So here's what we're going to do we at the studio are gonna start calling different phone lines in your office—use the noise to draw him into different places. Maurice, what I need from you is to somehow get me a floor plan of the offices, your company's phone number, and the extensions for each one of the offices."
Maurice said, "Okay, I think I can do that. There's a fax machine in the room with me. Just give me a few minutes."
After a few minutes, Hermes walked into the studio and handed Apollo the faxed-over floor plan. Maurice called back.
Apollo picked up the line. "All right, Maurice. Talk to me. Where is he right now?"
Maurice answered, voice hushed, "He's in the office next to me."
Apollo looked at the floor diagram, eyes narrowing. "Hermes, call the editor's office—extension 03."
Hermes gave a mock salute. "Got it."
Maurice whispered, "All right. Where do I need to go?"
Apollo responded quickly, "Head toward the kitchen—quietly. Go somewhere he's already checked."
Maurice muttered, "Yeah… that makes sense."
Hermes made the call, and after a moment they heard the familiar eerie whistling.
Maurice whispered in disbelief, "I don't believe it… he's actually headed to the editor's office. It worked. All right, I'm turning off the security camera so he can't use it to find me. Then I'm going to make my move. Disconnecting the call now. I'll call back when I'm somewhere safe."
Apollo and Hermes waited, holding their breath. A few tense minutes later, the call came through.
Apollo picked up. "Maurice?"
"I'm here. He didn't spot me."
Apollo and Hermes both sighed in relief.
Then Hermes said, "All right, we've got to think of something. Playing phone tag with this guy isn't going to buy you enough time to move those cabinets."
Maurice agreed. "You're right… but what can we do?"
Apollo paused, then asked, "Is there any way you can trap him?"
Maurice considered it. "All the offices lock from the inside. Some kind of fire safety thing. I'm not sure off the top of my head if there's anywhere that I can—wait. Wait! I got it. The Secret Archives. It's a hidden room with no windows, and it locks from the outside. The door's pretty sturdy, too. He wouldn't be able to bash through it. If we can somehow lure him in there, I should be able to trap him."
Hermes raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's convenient. What's the number for the Secret Archive?"
Maurice replied, "There's no phone in there, so we can't pull that trick again."
Apollo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Wait… is there a radio anywhere in the office?"
Maurice answered, "Yeah, there is. Hopkins, our sports journalist, has one. Calls it his 'work radio.'"
Hermes grinned. "Okay, that's good. Go to Hopkins' office, grab the radio, and take it into the Secret Archives. Tune it into our station and turn the volume up to maximum. We'll do the rest."
Maurice said, "Okay, I'll call back when I've got it."
A few minutes passed. Then Maurice called back in. "Okay, I've got it. I'm making my way over to the Secret Archives now."
Once he entered, Maurice whispered, "All right… just gotta tune into your station. What did you say the channel was again?"
Apollo replied, "189.16—The Scream with your host, Apollo—and me, Hermes."
Maurice froze. "Jesus Christ!"
Apollo smirked. "Nah, that's a different guy."
Maurice muttered, "All right, it's all tuned in… but wait a minute. If I have this thing turned up while I'm talking to you, he'll find me immediately."
Apollo assured him, "We'll just be quiet."
Maurice snorted. "Okay, if you think you can manage that."
Hermes grinned. "Asshole."
Maurice said, "All right, I've got to find a place to hide. There's under the desk, but it's a bit open at the bottom. He might spot me. Then there's the cabinet—it'll keep me completely hidden, but it'll take me a minute to get inside. Your decisions have kept me alive so far. Which one do you think?"
Apollo answered confidently, "Well, the cabinet. Obviously."
Maurice said, "All right. Turning up the radio and climbing into the cabinet. Wish me luck."
Apollo and Hermes waited a few minutes until they no longer heard Maurice shifting around.
Then Apollo, with a smile on his face, leaned into the microphone and said, "All right everybody, welcome back to 189.16 The Scream, and if you're just tuning in—"
They heard the eerie whistling pass Maurice's location.
Then Maurice shouted, "See you in hell, kid!"
Apollo grinned. "We just caught ourselves a murderer."
The door slammed shut behind the killer.
Maurice shouted into the phone, "Apollo! Hermes! You beautiful bastards—you did it! All right, I'm going to get the hell out of here. Then I'm going to go get some friends and come back to watch this guy until the police arrive. Thank you for everything."
Then the call disconnected.
Apollo sighed in relief and started up some music. Then he looked over to Hermes and said, "So. We both know it's not over, right?"
Hermes frowned. "Oh yeah. No way it's over. That was way too easy. I'd say we're not done until Leslie gets back with the cavalry."
Apollo nodded. "Yeah… that's probably our finish line."
They sat and chatted for a little while until Hermes paused and said, "Huh. That's weird."
Apollo asked, "What? The front doorbell just buzzed?"
Hermes nodded.
Apollo sighed. "Oh, Cool… we might be targets now."
Hermes leaned back. "Probably. We've saved three of his potential victims by now, and with that last stunt, he knows we're involved."
Apollo said, "So who's checking the door?"
They both stared at each other for a moment.
Then Hermes held up a fist over his palm.
Apollo groaned. "Really?"
He mirrored the gesture.
Together they said, "One, two, three—rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"
Apollo sighed. "Damn it. Two out of three?"
Hermes waved him off. "Apollo, just go check the damn door."
Apollo muttered, "Fine… but if I die, it's on you."
Hermes raised his hands dramatically. "Oh, by the gods, the burden."
Apollo flipped him off as he walked out the door. He headed downstairs and reached the front door—no one was standing there.
Just a tape, pushed through the mail slot, with the words Play me on air taped to it.
When he got back upstairs, he showed it to Hermes.
Hermes said flatly, "Yeah, that's from the killer."
Apollo deadpanned, "Obviously."
Then Hermes said, "Play it."
Apollo popped it into the cassette player, and what played was a mishmash of their voices, twisted into a haunting message:
"Gallows Creek… time to pay."
They both sighed.
"Oh my gods… how original," Hermes muttered.
Then he asked, "So what do you think's going to happen next?"
Apollo leaned back in his chair. "Well, if I were a betting man, I'd say next we're going to get a panicked call from Maurice… saying that the Whistling Man's gone."
And, as if on cue, Hermes said, "Caller on line one."
Apollo picked up the line.
A panicked Maurice said, "Apollo! The Whistling Man is gone!"
Apollo's tone turned serious. "What happened?"
Maurice replied quickly, "Me and my friends came back to the office—like I said—and as we were guarding the door, well… we'd had a few. One of my buddies decided we should open up the door and teach him a lesson. This was not my idea, okay? But there were five of us, and we were all armed. And then when we opened the doors—he wasn't there."
Apollo raised a brow. "You're kidding me."
Maurice's voice cracked. "I have no idea how. There was no conceivable way to get out of that room. You'd have to be a ghost or something."
Apollo chuckled darkly. "Or… he's got a partner. Could be that."
They heard Maurice gulp.
"Yeah. I'm not doing this. I'm getting out of town tonight. And if you have any sense… you'll do the same."
Then the call disconnected.
Hermes leaned back. "Eh. I don't blame him."
Apollo smirked. "I wonder if all the calls are going to be this interesting. Either way, I'm having lots of fun."
Hermes grinned. "We should do this more often."
—
Outside the game world, Hestia watched Apollo and Hermes navigate the game's various challenges. She was giddy with excitement and said, "They're doing so well! And watching them is really entertaining. Thank you for inviting me, Tet!"
Tet gave a relaxed grin. "No problem. Like I said before—you're welcome here anytime. And yeah, you're right. They're doing a lot better than I thought they would. But the game's not over yet. Still a decent number of people they need to save before they win…"
He leaned forward slightly, eyes glowing with curiosity.
"…but I like their chances. Now let's keep watching."
Hestia settled back into her chair, eyes fixed on the screen, her heart racing in anticipation.