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The moment that the audio started, there was noise. Not a voice — the loud whooshing of wind. Quieter, distorted from the noise, a pattering could be heart; footsteps, rushed.
"Hey," came the tired voice of iTrapped, though simultaneously he sounded exhilarated, thrilled; "That was insane! I never thought that we'd be rushed like that! I dunno how they found out where we lived, man… Maybe 'cause of how often Ni…"
Whatever iTrapped said afterwards was drowned out by the wind picking up. His voice could be heard, but the words were unintelligible. After a few moments, the wind died down once more, and the words continued.
"…didn't see where you guys went! So hit me up and let me know, 'kay? I know you're… not happy with me right now, but there are more important things right now. Like staying safe. And not banned. So call me back soon!"
End of voicemail.
From the moment that the audio started, the sound of wind could be heard. It was quite loud, but not loud enough to drown out the voice of the speaker.
"Nick!" iTrapped's voice was full of amusement. "Are you and Nate really still being chased by the admins? I can't believe it! You always boasted about being the best of us, but I got out immediately! Ha, I'm never letting this one go once you're away. I always knew I was better than you!"
End of voicemail.
The next voicemail is from a day or two later. There's no wind, but footsteps can still faintly be heard.
"… I waited. I thought, maybe something went wrong, maybe they just need time, and you— you're ignoring me. Are you serious?" iTrapped sighed loud enough to be picked up. "I know you're mad, I know, but there are bigger things than that. I'm worried about you. Nick, too. Just, let me know you're okay, at the very least. Don't I deserve even that…? Please, Nate. Just— give me something. Anything."
There's a pause in which it seems like iTrapped might say more. The moment passed.
End of voicemail.
This voicemail seems to have been recorded directly after the previous one, based on the timestamps. The background noise is also the same as the previous.
"Nick," though iTrapped had sounded annoyed in the last voicemail, this time it was worse. Sharper. "Is Nate making you ignore me? I thought we were fine — in comparison, at least. You're not mad because I made fun of you in that voicemail, are you? Don't be petty. Let me know you're safe. Call me."
End of voicemail.
Where the previous voicemails had background noise, this one was completely silent sans iTrapped's own voice. And his voice was softer, lost of the enthusiasm and / or anger that'd made up previous messages.
"… Hey. It's me again."
A pause, as though iTrapped expected a response. He sounded awkward when he continued, clearing his throat.
"… Listen. Uh, I don't know how you guys are doing… Obviously… But I wanted to give an update for me. Just in case you were… worried. Or something."
Another pause, though in this one iTrapped's voice could still — very faintly — be heard, as though he was mumbling to himself. All that was intelligible about whatever it was, was … wish you were…
Still, he continued, if a little stilted; "… I'm with Lonelytree. At his place, I mean. He's… trying to find out where you guys are. But nobody wants to talk to him, cause they all… hate me. And he… Well, you know. Heh."
He didn't sound like he found it very funny. He stopped talking again, though there was the sound of something rustling. When iTrapped spoke again, his voice was closer than before.
"I hope you're okay. Both of you. But also you specifically, Nick. It…" he took a deep breath, audible now with his closer distance. "… It occurred to me that maybe I'm not clear enough about that. I wish that I'd—"
There was a creak in the background, prompting iTrapped to cut himself off. A brighter voice, distant, started "Isaa—" before the end of the voicemail.
Once again, no background noise. This time, iTrapped got straight to it, close to the phone once more.
"Nick probably told you what I sent him already. But, I… God, Nate, what I said to him isn't nearly enough for you. For… For us. For everything." A pause. "… About the Illumina. I just… Nate, I wanted to do something nice, and the Darkheart— it was— to me—"
He seemed lost to communicate whatever it was he was thinking. Instead, he changed routes.
"… It was stupid. I'm so sorry. Not just about our fights, and the sword, but— everything. Everything. I shouldn't have gone behind your back, and I shouldn't have— been so foolish, and I… God, Nate, I need to talk to you, not a phone. Please, tell me where you are. Or come to Lonelytree's place. Or— tell me to fuck off, I don't know, anything! I just want to know that you're okay, so please…"
Another pause.
"… I'm sorry. Please… Talk soon."
End of voicemail.
From the moment that the voicemail starts, there's a distinct background noise to it. A faint, buzzing voice in the background, though whatever it was saying was entirely unintelligible at the volume and low quality that it was at.
"… I know you don't want to hear from me. Because if you did… You would have responded to let me know that you were okay, at least…"
iTrapped sounded upset at this, though he seemed to be trying (and failing) to hide it. The voice continued in the background, and he cleared his throat.
"… I don't know if you can hear it. That— it's the news. There's someone on it from that, uh, APN clan of yours. I just… is your group in trouble? I thought… I didn't know. I could've helped, though I… guess you don't want that from me."
There was another pause, though it was hard to tell whether iTrapped was thinking of what to say or listening to whatever was being said on the news.
"… I just, I'm sorry for reaching out again. I think I was just… looking for an excuse to call even though you've already made your stance clear. What're the chances you're even listening to this? I bet you stopped listening to them after the first one," he laughed, but it sounded little more than sad and bitter. "… I bet you didn't listen to any of them at all. Still, there are… things I want to say. Whether you're listening or not. Preferably listening, though."
There was a rustling. iTrapped cleared his throat once more. He seemed unsure of what to say, what to do with himself.
"The Darkheart is my prized possession, Nate. Not because of what it is, but because of who it was from. Uh, you. Obviously. And I… Well, I thought that was the part that mattered. That it was from you. But… The effort you put in mattered, too. The fact that it wasn't stolen just as easily as everything else we had. And I… I didn't see that. I wanted to give you the Illumina because I loved the Darkheart, and I didn't understand why…"
iTrapped trailed off suddenly. The faint voice of the news reporter continued in the background.
"… What?"
There was rustling, movement, and a moment later the background noise became a little louder. iTrapped stayed quiet. When he did speak again, he sounded disbelieving. He sounded scared.
"… There's no way." His voice shook. He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "There's no fucking way. This isn't real. It can't be— This isn't— You two, you're not—
… Fuck. Fuck!"
There was a loud clattering noise, and the voicemail ended with no further explanation.
Following this call was a large amount to calls to both Ellernate and Caleb — upwards of thirty to both of them over the next few hours. None with voicemails attached.
There was no background noise of the traditional kind. Though, it seemed that iTrapped was close enough to the phone for his breathing to be picked up.
"… I don't know why I'm even bothering." His voice was quiet. Tired. Defeated. "I know that you can't answer."
There were a few moments of silence. Or, what would have been silence, if iTrapped's breaths didn't continue to be picked up. Uneven, stuttering breaths, as though crying, or trying to resist it.
"… I… God, we could've been happy. We were happy. And then, I… I. Me."
He sniffed.
"Me. I can't pretend like it wasn't my fault, you know? It was all me. It was me who went behind Nate's back, me who took things too far, me who— who didn't help you guys when the admins showed up. We were happy. We were happy. And I ruined that with my own two hands."
He took a deep breath, and when he next spoke, his voice was somewhat muffled.
"… I'm pathetic. I couldn't see the issue while you were still here, no matter how you tried — couldn't see anything that wasn't right in front of me. And look where that got me. I didn't want this. I didn't want this."
A pause.
"You both had every right to be mad at me for what I did. I would be mad at me for what I did, for my disregard of safety. Your safety. You could've killed me and I would've deserved it."
A breath.
"I wish you had."
End of voicemail.
"Heyyyyy," the first thing that was obvious the moment that the audio started to play was the slur in iTrapped's voice. "Your answer thing is funny. The… phone answer. When you don't answer, y'know?"
He giggled to himself, seeming a little manic.
"I'm glad you have something entertainin'! 'Cause, I'm gonna have to listen to it for, like, foreverrr… Nate's one is boringgg! I don't wanna hire him, I just want… Hmmm…" He seemed to change his mind halfway through, stopping and humming loudly in thought. "… Wanna drink. Together. With you. But, you're gone, and the bar that we usually go to is sooo depressing… Bartend asked me where you guy were, and I… I, I left. … Went to the store instead. Don't think Lonelytree is happy with me."
This was punctuated with another giggle.
"… Drinkin' alone is kinda depressing, too. I miss you guys. I messaged Nicole. I'm trying to… I just, I wanna… You're like— … You were like a brother to me, y'know? … I miss you."
Some shuffling. Then, end of voicemail.
The wind from the earliest voicemails made a return in this one, albeit at a much lower volume, distorting much less. As the voicemail started, iTrapped was silent.
"…" When he finally spoke, the words were mostly flat, if a little miserable. "… I don't know why I'm doing this. You can't listen to these. I guess I like to pretend that you can, that you're not gone. Lonelytree said that I…"
He seemed to catch himself half-way through, trailing off from whatever he was saying. There was a heavy silence, and once he spoke again, it was clear why.
"… Lonelytree kicked me out."
A faint tapping began to be audible in the background.
"I don't blame him. I— I was leeching off of him. Taking up his space and getting drunk and making a mess and refusing to help or even try to get better even after he asked several times. … He deserves better than that. He deserves better than me. This time, I can see that."
The tapping grew faster.
"I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't think our old house is going to be safe. I— don't know if I could stand to go back there, anyway. It's not like I have no way to get money or get a place, I could always sell my Limiteds, but I…" Between the pause and the choked sound, it seemed like he had to force the next words out. "… I can't stand the thought of it. Even looking at the Limiteds makes me feel dirty. The thought of selling them for money makes me feel sick, using them for my own advantage knowing how I got them, knowing what happened to you because of them—"
A pause. The tapping stopped.
"… I don't know what I'm going to do," he repeated, defeated, and the voicemail ended with nothing further.
"I met with my sister," the voicemail started, iTrapped not wasting a second before beginning to talk, "Nicole. I think family is just what I need right now. Or— just, someone. I miss bickering. I miss… Well. I might have told you that last time. I… I don't remember what I told you. I don't remember a lot of things."
He paused, and wind could be heard in the background.
"… She said I look like shit. She's right. She doesn't sugarcoat that. She… reminds me of you. In some ways. A lot of ways. I think, having her is helping me with…
… Well, I don't know. I'm still sending voicemails. I don't know if I'll ever stop. Doing that would feel like laying you to rest permanently. Like accepting that I have to move on because I'm never going to see you again. And maybe that's true, but I…"
His voice began to waver, and he paused to clear his throat, seemingly trying to steady it. He failed.
"… I don't want… I, I can't do that."
A shaky breath. End of voicemail.
The voicemail began with shuffling. It sounded as though the phone was being moved. After a few seconds, it stopped. There were faint footsteps, and when iTrapped spoke, he was further away than the other voicemails, and there was a slight echo in whatever room he was in.
"I met up with Lonelytree."
From the beginning, it was obvious that something hadn't gone well. iTrapped's voice was frustrated, sharp.
"I'm better now. I'm talking to Nicole again. I have my own place. I'm not— getting drunk all the time, or anything. I'm better. I'm good. So I thought, I thought, that I could reach out to Lonelytree again. Show him that. Have him on my side again, too. Help me recover entirely. And he— he—"
iTrapped made a frustrated noise, and there was a pause afterwards in which a few, deep breaths could be faintly heard, as though he was trying to calm himself down.
"Everything was fine at first. Then, I mentioned to him that I'd re-connected with Nicole. At first, he was happy for me, as he should have been, but as I went on, he…! God, I hate even thinking about it. He told me I hadn't gotten better at all — as if this isn't better than drinking myself to death on his couch — and that, rather than actually getting over anything, I was trying to replace you with Nicole so I wouldn't have to think about it—" There was a bang. If it was unexpected to iTrapped, he didn't seem to react to it. "—as if anyone could replace you. As if I'd be so disrespectful, both to you and to Nicole! Lonelytree doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about!"
Another pause, and then shuffling. The phone seemed to be handled once more.
"If all he's going to do is criticise my every move and tell me to 'get help', as if I need it," iTrapped's voice was now far closer, but no less frustrated, "then he won't be seeing me again. Ever."
End of voicemail.
Based off of the date of the voicemail, this one was sent about a month or two after the previous. The topic seemed entirely related, regardless.
"Lonelytree was right."
iTrapped was close to the phone once more, voice on the louder side. There was no background noise sans his breathing. His voice had an emotion to it, but it was hard to place. He sounded slightly more guarded than usual.
"I'm not over you and Nate. That's what Lonelytree told me. And he was right, I'm not. But can you blame me? How could I be over my best friends so easily? My lover? My brother? Having ended on bad terms doesn't lessen the bond we had. Doesn't lessen my longing, how much I miss you. Lonelytree saw that as a problem. No — it's natural. It's normal to mourn your friends when they're gone. It's normal to stew over it for a while.
I'll give him this — he was right about one thing," iTrapped continued, "I was looking for you in other people. I looked for Nate in every person I met. I hung out with Nicole only for the parts of Nick that I saw in her. And Lonelytree was right, that's not fair to them. It's not fair for me, either, to drive myself insane looking for people who can fill the hole you left. Because nobody can. Nobody can fill a hole that's specifically your shape…
Except you."
He laughed, though it sounded manic. He sounded more unstable the longer he rambled on.
"I don't know how it took me this long to realise! You're not dead. You're gone. Banned. What is gone can be found. Reclaimed. Sure, the Banlands are supposed to be inescapable, but the admin panel was supposed to be unhackable, and we all know how that went! There is a way into the Banlands. There must be.
I'm going to find it if it's the last thing I do."
End of voicemail.
The voicemail began with silence.
"… Sorry that I haven't called in a while." iTrapped's voice was uncharacteristically serious once he began to speak. "Though I suppose you're not receiving these, so you don't care. Still, I… like to say it."
There was movement — the rustling of what sounded like papers — and when he spoke again, his voice was further away. He sounded passionate about the subject matter. Fixated.
"I've been doing research on the Banlands. It opens via a gate — of which there may be more than one — which can be unlocked with a key. Obviously, the key is in possession of the admins. I figured I might have to try to steal from them, despite the risk, but with more research I discovered something not well known.
There's more than one copy of the Banlands key. I'm not sure of the exact number. Other than the one in possession of the admins, the rest were entrusted to unrelated individuals. My guess is that the admins knew that someone might try this, might try to get the Banlands key, so they gave back-ups to individuals in case something happened.
… But, as usual, the admins weren't as careful as they'd like to believe.
I found records about who some of those keys went to. I tried to track the lineage to figure out where they might be now, with varying amounts of luck. In the end, I narrowed it down to two that I'm certain of. One is quite a distance away. The other? Barely ten minutes away. I don't know the exact individual who has it, but that's something I'm going to figure out when I investigate in person."
A pause. iTrapped cleared his throat, seeming awkward. The seriousness seemed to fade a bit.
"… So, yeah. I know where to look now. Researching isn't… my strong suit. You know that. But I loved to watch you, even doing research that I found boring. So I… Well, I tried to do what you always did. It was successful.
…
I want to think that you'd be proud of me if you were here. But I know that's not true. Getting my head in the game now doesn't make up for… everything. I know that. Believe me, I do. That's why I have to do this. Not for your forgiveness, but because freeing you is the least I can do with all the trouble I've caused. I'm the reason you're in there — both of you — let me at least be the reason that you get out, too.
I know our reunion won't be happy. You won't want to see me. If I can help it, maybe I'll make it so you don't see me.
All I need to know is that you get out safe. And then, I…
Well. What happens to me after that isn't your concern.
… Neither is it mine."
End of voicemail.
"… I'm going to go to the casino, now — where the person who has the Banlands key is." Once more, iTrapped's voice was serious, formal; unlike the man they once knew. "It occurs to me that I only mentioned the plan on a voice-note to Nate, but… It's not as though either of you are genuinely receiving these, so it doesn't matter. And if you are, you're probably only making fun of me together. Not that I don't deserve it.
Point is, I'm not going to repeat myself for some imaginary person's benefit. I'm not so delusional so as to pretend that anyone's actually listening. These messages are… more for myself than anything. To get my thoughts straight. To say things that I wish I could say to you, even if…
…
… Anyway.
I'm not in a great state. I haven't been, for… Well. Ever since you two were banned. I've looked a mess. I can't stay like this if I'm planning to go in and charm my way around to find the whereabouts of that key.
… My hair's a lot longer than when you knew me. I look feminine. It reminds me of you, of Choka.
To be honest, I'll probably take inspiration. What I'm doing isn't far off of what you used to do, with… KirbyCaden, right? I need to charm people. I don't think I have to entirely cross-dress, though I'm not against the idea should it become necessary."
The old iTrapped probably wouldn't have approved such an idea, especially so offhandedly. This one, however, not only did so but moved on as though it was nothing.
"… I don't have your acting skills. I'm not going to pretend that I do, either. Or your sense of style — you could surely guide me to something better if you were here — but I have to take what I can get. Inspiration, that is.
It's strange for me. I'm the older one of me and Nicole, so I've never… Well. That doesn't matter.
In truth, I think you'd hate me copying you, if you were here. You'd make some comment about it, at the very least... I only wish you were here to make it. Maybe then, it would feel like a joke. Right now, it just feels like betrayal."
End of voicemail.
The moment that the audio started, there was loud shuffling, then a small bang as something fell. iTrapped could at first be heard breathing heavily, though he soon got too far for it to be heard.
"Fuck," he swore, and his words echoed faintly. "Fuck. He— I can't do this. Nate, he— he looks just like you — how you used to look. The hat, the glasses, the suit. I look at him and see someone else entirely. And I'm going to have to— fuck—"
There was a heavy pause wherein something of a choking noise could be heard. It soon stopped, though there were a few more moments before iTrapped spoke up again.
"—God, I feel sick. I can't… I have to go back out there. I can barely stand the sight of him…
-# … But maybe, like Nicole…"
Another pause. This time, when he spoke again, his voice was flatter, devoid of the emotion that had plagued it a mere moment prior.
"… I have to go out there whether I want to or not. My mission — saving you — is more important than my emotions. My will. It's more important than anything.
Of everything I've sacrificed… This is nothing.
I won't falter."
End of voicemail.
It'd been a long time since the last voicemail. Months. When iTrapped spoke now, it was clear that the man in the earliest voice notes entirely gone — as he had been steadily disappearing through each one — his voice devoid of the fire it once held, entirely frozen over.
"… Things aren't as I hoped."
He spoke with a formality to his tone previously unseen. Mostly, at least.
"In some ways, that is. Other things have gone entirely smoothly — Chance, for example, is quite taken with me. He didn't put up much of a fight; that's going excellently.
But I was originally hoping that the process of retrieving the key might be easier. That I could merely use the skills that you and I used on our jobs. Sneak in and take it. But no, it won't be so easy. Chance is a hindrance as much as he is a help.
…
… I know what I have to do. How I have to get it. I think, in the back of my mind, I always knew.
If you knew… If you were here… You would never forgive me for it. It doesn't bring me any joy to do it, either, but… Hm. It's only a new entry on my list of sins for which I won't be forgiven."
Almost imperceptibly, his voice shook. He was much more adept at hiding it than he had been previously.
"… Better me than you. Better that I claw and bite to get you out so that you and Nick don't have to.
It'll be worth it in the end.
I have to believe that."
End of voicemail.
For the first time in a long time, this voicemail had background noise in the way of wind. When iTrapped spoke, his voice was shaking more than ever. He sounded frenzied, impossibly anxious and excited at once; mostly, he sounded immensely disturbed.
"I'm sorry. Nate, I— I'm so sorry. I… It— he—"
He cut himself off, taking a few moments. When he spoke once more, he was stuttering less, though his voice was no less shaky and he generally sounded no less disturbed.
"… I knew it would come to this. Of course I did. I've had it planned for— for months. It's one thing to think it and another to do it. Another to sit with someone as they…
… Oh, God. I'm never going to move past this. Though I guess I don't have a good track record of moving past anything. But this… I'm never going to be able to stop thinking about this… I didn't want to… And with the sword— your sword—"
A deep breath, loud enough to be heard. Still, his voice remained unstable.
"… I need to calm down. What's done is done. Whether I like it or not…
It's worth it. It's all going to be worth it. To save you. To free you from my own mistakes. It'll be worth it."
It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
His voice steadied a little, though it seemed more like he was pushing the emotions away than genuinely getting over or comprehending them.
"… It is worth it. This was the last thing I had to do. Now… I can get it. I can come to save you.
I don't think you'll want to see me. I don't want you to, either. I don't want to seem like I'm freeing you for my own gain, to make you forgive me. But there are things I want to say. Things that I know will make me want to see you… So I want to say them here. I want to get the words out in the world now, so that I won't be tempted to seek you out later.
…
… Still, where do I even start…? How do I organise these thoughts?
…
… Nate.
I love you.
I don't know if I ever said it properly when we were together. I never treated you how you deserved, and though we never officially broke up, I know that we're certainly not together. I think that's for the best. You gave me your heart and I didn't know what to do with it. I regret that. I regret it so much. I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have gone behind your back. I thought that I knew best, that it didn't matter if I went against your word as long as it worked, as long as you didn't find out. I was careless. I was selfish, and I— I hate myself for it. I don't blame you if you hate me, too. I'm sure that you do. God knows I deserve it.
All I want to do is make everything right. Sometimes, that means removing myself entirely.
I'll free you without you ever knowing it was me. I'll let you move on to someone new. You deserve that — you deserve to be able to shed your past in a way that I never could. I don't want to drag you back. More than I already have, that is.
The same goes for Nick, too. But I'll be leaving him a separate message after this. Not that it matters. Neither of you are listening.
Still, I wanted to say it. I love you and I'm sorry and I can guarantee that you'll never be bothered by me again. After this…
…
Please stay safe. I'm sorry.
… You'll be free soon."
End of voicemail.
It seemed that this voicemail was recorded shortly after the previous.
"… Same rules as before. I'm saying these things to your phone because I'll want to say it to you otherwise, and I know you won't want to see me. And I won't force you to.
It feels stranger to say these things to you than to Nate. Our communication had always been through bickering and jokes — at least, that's what I thought. The more I think back on it, the more that I get the idea that I was mistaken. That you were genuine. That you hated me.
It's alright. Six years ago, that information would have destroyed me. It's not as though I'm thrilled to think it, even now. But knowing it doesn't destroy me. I'm past that. I already know that you hate me, if not in general then for what I did, both to you and to get here. It doesn't matter.
… Still. To know how long I lived in ignorance…
…
I don't hold it against you. Though I still want to express that you meant a lot to me. I… Well, I might have mentioned it. You reminded me a lot of my sister, Nicole. She's younger than me, and looked up to me and my skills, and I… Well, it's not as though I ever admitted it. But I also looked up to you.
I'm not so upset about the fact that you perhaps never liked me as I am about the fact that you might have never known that I cared about you. I can't confirm, but the sense I get is that… You were banned not knowing how much I cared. Now, you'll live forever thinking that I didn't.
It was never a duo for me. It was never Isaac and Nate, and Nick is also there. It was Isaac and Nate and Nick, not one without the others.
… At least, back then. Soon, it'll be Nate and Nick, and Isaac won't be a name that even crosses your mind. Apart from hating me, perhaps."
A weak laugh. Then, a pause.
"… I debated on mentioning this at all. But I want this to be said aloud. I want to acknowledge this before its fully realised, before it's upon us. Well, upon me.
…
… I don't think I'm long for this world after this.
It's not that I have anything planned. It's just…
Well. For all these six years, my existence has been based around the pair of you. Based around finding you, freeing you.
Before that, my existence was based around you, too, but in a different way. Living together, stealing together, bickering.
… How many years is that in total?
The point is this: I don't remember a life that doesn't revolve around you. For years you've given me purpose, to work alongside you and then to find you, and I— I—
…
I've long since destroyed any relationship that doesn't link back to you. And those remaining bonds are shallow; built on a memory I'm still trying to cling onto.
I can't stand to be without you. To not be chasing you. That's a life I'm going to have to face, though I don't know if I can bear it.
No — I know I can't bear it.
I think some part of me wants to fail. To chase you forever, trying to save you. Because — painful as it is — I know that I'd prefer that over facing what comes next. I've never been good at moving on.
But I do truly want you to be free. You're more important than me, than my feelings. You always have been.
I suppose I just wanted to say it myself. Acknowledge aloud what's going to happen to me.
…
Isaac Hymer will die the way he lived: miserable, alone, and pathetic. But he'll die having done what he could to remedy his greatest mistake.
… That's all I can really ask for."
End of voicemail.