#thelastbroadcast

On the air, taking calls during the apocalypse. By: Ki Lov3 🎧📚$1 Sale Audiobook https://payhip.com/b/Ta2ub 📽️ YouTube audiobook trailer 🎧🔗https://youtu.be/kp8ymBcQo2I?is=M4K9DCsCKuhnMt19 We are not meant to be silent. We are meant to be messy and loud and imperfect and alive. And if something wants to take that from us… then we fight with every single beautiful, human noise we can make.”Hit…

The Last Broadcast

Adam Harris sat under the harsh glow of studio lights, his crisp suit and polished appearance masking the weariness that clung to his eyes. As the lead anchor of Channel 7 News, he'd seen it all—fires, floods, scandals. But tonight’s report was different. Something felt... wrong.

The teleprompter flickered briefly, and he shot a glance at the producer behind the glass. Jenny mouthed something and waved a dismissive hand. Technical issues were common in live TV. No big deal. Adam adjusted his tie, waiting for his cue.

"Five seconds, Adam," Jenny said through his earpiece.

He straightened in his seat. The camera rolled, the familiar jingle of the news intro faded out, and Adam launched into his practiced tone.

"Good evening, I'm Adam Harris, and tonight's top story—mysterious broadcasts hijacking radio stations and television signals across the country."

He paused, watching the red light of the camera, feeling its gaze on him like an unblinking eye.

"For the past two weeks, people have reported hearing strange voices during routine broadcasts—whispers, indecipherable words... some claiming to hear their own names. Despite numerous investigations, authorities have yet to identify the source."

Adam glanced down at the papers in front of him, shuffling them as the teleprompter continued.

“Some experts believe it to be a prank or perhaps a rogue signal caused by interference. However, others suggest a more... sinister origin."

The words hung in the air, and Adam felt a chill creep up his spine. As if on cue, his earpiece crackled. At first, it was static, but then something else came through—a whisper. A faint, breathy sound.

"...Adam..."

His heart skipped. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. It had to be interference. A glitch. His imagination.

But it happened again, this time clearer.

"...Adam... we're watching you..."

The voice was so faint, he wasn’t sure if it was real or in his head. His fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, knuckles white. Jenny’s voice buzzed through the earpiece, suddenly loud, snapping him out of his daze.

"Everything okay, Adam?" she asked.

He blinked, forcing a smile. "Yes, fine. Sorry, just a bit of interference on my end."

Jenny nodded, but her brow furrowed in concern. He could feel the camera on him still, waiting.

"Now, in related news, several individuals have come forward, claiming they have been contacted directly by the mysterious broadcasts..."

As he spoke, Adam's mind raced. Was someone messing with him? Maybe a disgruntled tech? He glanced at the other staff, but they seemed oblivious. Jenny was focused on the screens, and the camera crew went about their work as usual.

The teleprompter fed him the next segment, but before he could continue, the whisper returned—louder this time.

"...Look behind you, Adam..."

His blood turned to ice. It was the same voice, the same suffocating whisper, but it felt close now. Too close. He shifted in his seat, fighting the urge to turn around. This was absurd. It couldn’t be real.

He felt the air grow heavy, thick, as though the studio itself was closing in. Every instinct screamed at him to get up, to run, but his body refused to move.

Suddenly, the monitor on his desk flickered. The image shifted from the usual broadcast feed to static, then to a shadowy figure—just behind him.

No one in the control room reacted. No alarms. No shouts. The figure was clear on his screen, a silhouette standing in the far corner of the studio. Its form barely human, long and gaunt, as if the darkness had twisted it into something grotesque. Its eyes... black pits, staring directly at him.

Adam's breath hitched. His mind struggled to process what he was seeing. How was this happening? And why wasn't anyone else seeing it?

He turned, slowly, dread pulling at his every muscle. The studio was empty. The cameras, the lights—everything was normal. But he knew. He felt it there, lurking just beyond the edge of his vision.

"Adam..." the voice whispered again, almost tender now, "it's your turn."

The teleprompter had gone blank. His papers slid from his trembling hands, scattering across the desk.

Suddenly, the studio lights dimmed, and the control room's usual buzz faded into silence. His earpiece was dead. The only sound was his own breathing, heavy and erratic.

Adam stood, knocking over his chair, eyes darting around the room. He needed to get out. But as he took a step toward the exit, the screen flickered again. This time, it wasn’t a shadow.

It was his own face staring back at him.

Except it wasn’t quite right. The Adam on the screen had hollow eyes, skin pale and stretched tight over his bones. His lips moved, forming words that Adam couldn’t hear, but somehow, deep inside, he understood.

The screen Adam smiled, thin and unnatural, and then the whisper returned—not from his earpiece, not from the monitor—but from the walls, the floor, the air around him.

"Join us..."

Adam stumbled back, panic flooding his veins. The studio warped, the walls bending, stretching, as if the space itself was alive. The voices grew louder, overlapping, merging into a cacophony of twisted murmurs.

"Join us... join us..."

He ran. His footsteps echoed unnaturally in the suffocating silence. The door to the hallway was just ahead, but as he reached for it, the lights flickered one final time and went out, plunging him into darkness.

For a moment, everything was still. Then, from the blackness, the whisper came again—right at his ear.

"...You’re one of us now, Adam..."

His scream never reached the airwaves.

The next night, Channel 7 News aired its usual broadcast, but Adam Harris was not behind the desk. A new anchor sat in his place, smiling under the bright studio lights. She introduced herself with practiced charm, her voice steady as she delivered the night's top story.

"In breaking news, authorities are investigating the sudden disappearance of veteran anchor Adam Harris. He was last seen at this very desk during last night’s live broadcast. If anyone has information, please contact—"

The signal cut out. Static flooded the screen. For a few seconds, the image flickered.

Then, just barely audible over the hum of dead air, a whisper crept through the speakers.

Back in the late 1990s, when I was truly discovering how deep my love of film ran, a groundbreaking movie dropped : The Blair Witch Project.  Not only did this movie embrace the impending shift that reality television was leading the rest of the industry towards, it also opened many people up to the power and mystery of the internet.  Like many others, I found myself diving headlong into the internet to investigate the validity and truth of what was presented in the film.  It was not until many years later that I discovered a relatively unknown gem that covered much of the same ground as The Blair Witch Project, but a couple of years prior to its production.  This film is the modern day underground cult classic that is The Last Broadcast. 

Documentarian David Leigh (David Beard) is tasked with examining the case of the Fact or Fiction crews’ mysterious disappearance during their search for the Jersey Devil in the Pine Barrens region of New Jersey.  The crew, hosts Steven Avkast (Stefan Avalos) and Locus Wheeler (Lance Weller), are local celebrities due to the freak popularity of their paranormal access television show, but after a year and declining popularity, a last ditch attempt is made to regain their high ground in the form of a live television/internet stream simulcast from deep in the Pine Barrens.  Soundman Rein Clabbers (Rein Clackin) and psychic Jim Suerd (James Seward) are hired to assist, but as Jim leads the group deeper into the woods, tension rise between them.  Jim eventually emerges from the woods and calls 911, reporting that Steven, Locus and Rein never reported back to camp and have gone missing.  Police discover the bodies of Locus and Rein, and although a large portion of Steven’s blood is found, his body is never recovered.  As David presents information on the events and the subsequent case (and mysterious in-prison death) of Jim, he is presented with a box full of damaged video tape.  He hires data retrieval expert Shelly Monarch (Michele Pulaski) to recover the images from the film, leading to shocking revelations about what happened the Fact or Fiction crew disappeared.

The similarities to The Blair Witch Project are hard to ignore, which makes it interesting that this film was forgotten while Blair Witch broke box office records.  Found footage films weren’t necessarily a new genre, though they were in their popularity infancy at the time, so the presentation of the information as a true story is an instant point of comparison between the two.  Both productions did visit and feature real locations : Burkittsville, Maryland and the Pine Barrens of New Jersy, respectively.  Actual footage from the supposed true events serves as the fuel for viewer tension in both films.

Those commonalities end there, however, and it is in the differences that The Last Broadcast truly shines.  The usage of a real local legend (the Jersey Devil) immediately brings an obscure sense of validity to the claim that the events of the film are true, with decades of tales about the Jersey Devil circulating popular lore.  This film also takes a much more direct approach in the way it presents the power of the internet, with IRC chat playing a key factor in the advancement of the story.  This stands in stark contrast to the subversive promotional campaign from the Blair Witch camp, with the creation and falsification of the Blair Witch legend pre-planted on the internet to throw the curious off in their search for truth.  With trials like the O.J. Simpson murder case fresh on the minds of everyone, the inclusion of a media circus and troubled trial ring extremely true.  The personality profiles of Jim Suerd and others involved feels like a precursor to the public fascination with true crime that has rapidly grown in popularity.  The film even subverts our expectations in its presentation of the events as true by giving us a beautiful narrative swerve that lands like a punch out of nowhere the first time its experienced.  The film also serves as one of the first, if not the first, commercially released films shot and edited entirely on consumer-level equipment.

David Beard gives an incredible dual-level performance as narrator, coming off as impartial and observational initially, with sinister levels revealing themselves with repeat viewings.  Stefan Avalos nails the uptight creative with delusions of grandeur, while his foil Lance Weller has such a laid-back, unbothered attitude that he would have appealed to the fans of counter-culture, stoner entertainment immediately.  James Seward embraces his role as the misunderstood loner and social misfit, leaning heavily into hobbies that are now considered trope-level red flags for disturbed individuals.  Michele Pulaski displays an unchecked, uninfluenced search for the truth that mirrors the viewer experience, which makes her final moments hit incredibly hard as they unfold.  Other standout appearances and performances include Rein Clabbers, Dale Worstall, A.D. Roso, Tom Burnt, Mark Rublee and Sam Wells.