by Jake V., 14
Recording begins.
[garbled nonsense from captors]
“So, I just speak into here? This little box?”
[captors shock prisoner]
“Um, hello. My name is Nathaniel Rogers. Last month or so, in Salem, Massachusetts, the year of our Lord, 1823, while I was preparing to lead an expedition to midwest America, I was um… I was captured and brought into this… vessel, which seems to be suspended in the heavens. I believe that my captors want me to tell my story. But it is hard to te- ”
[captors shock Nathaniel]
“Ow! Stop that! Um, I suppose that they do. I see the Earth below me. I see the moon and stars among us. I believe that the scriptures and priests were wrong. Heaven and hell are reversed, because so close to where I thought heaven lay, I’ve found hell. And my captors are not angels, they are devils.”
[garbled nonsense from captors]
“I have seen the displays along the halls of this vessel. There are people, frozen. As in ice! Some wear strange clothes as if they are from different times. I think that they are still alive, but it is impossible to discern. And I believe that my captors plan the same fate for me. Will I be frozen? I do not know.”
[captors shock Nathaniel]
“Ow! Please stop that! I did what you asked!”
[captors drag Nathaniel away]
Recording ends.
Bridge Ink 