First Try:

Ringtone

He came home that evening and listened to his voicemails, when he got to the

third one, he froze. He looked down at the small green-tinted led screen, at the number

displayed: 000-000-0001. Hesitating for a moment, he was quite sure that h e didn’t

know anyone with that number. He pressed the answer button, to let the message play.

A whining ring came from the speakers, starting low, and raising in a quick

crescendo. He dropped the receiver, due to the sudden explosion of sound. He stood a

few feet away from the telephone, as the receiver swung back and forth, and the noise

died down.

With a newfound caution, he turned the lights on in his bedroom and picked the

phone back up. The sound was all but gone now. A quiet hum still came forth from the

device, he lifted it to his ear, and something else too! There was something else on the

line, other than the monotone note. Something changing and swaying, lifting and

leaning, and before he knew it, he had been lost in this song.

He snapped to attention. Shadows had shifted, not much, but enough to cause

alarm. He wiped a trail of drool from his mouth and looked again the phone in his hand.

His knuckles were white, so he eased his grip. The singing was grone, but the drone

remained, ever present. Now he saw the screen.

Edited:
 Ringtone

He came home to his Chicago apartment that evening and listened to his

voicemails, when he got to the third one, he froze. He looked down at the small

green-tinted led screen, at the number displayed: 000-000-0001. Hesitating for a

moment, he was quite sure that he didn’t know anyone with that number. He pressed

the answer button, to let the message play.

A whining ring came from the speakers, starting low, and raising in a quick

crescendo. He dropped the receiver, due to the sudden explosion of sound. He stood a

few feet away from the telephone, as the receiver swung back and forth, and the noise

died down.

With a newfound caution, he turned the lights on in his bedroom and picked the

phone back up. The sound was all but gone now. A quiet hum still came forth from the

device, he lifted it to his ear, and heard something else too! There was something on

the line, other than the monotone note. Something changing and swaying, lifting and

leaning, and before he knew it, he had been lost in this song.

He snapped to attention. Shadows had shifted, not much, but enough to cause

alarm. He had been lost in the song for a least half an hour. He wiped a trail of drool

from his mouth and looked again the phone in his hand. His knuckles had turned white,

he eased his grip. The singing was gone, but the drone remained, ever present. Now he

saw the screen. Instead of a number displayed on the LED, there were letters. They

didn’t make any sense though: JDI-SDI-LKAD. What did that mean? They were only

displayed for a moment before they changed again. Different letters, still not making any
sense. The letters kept changing and changing. Every so often the letters would create

words like “ONE”, “HERE”, “NOW”, The words would stay while the other letters

randomized. After a moment they would change too. It was like the phone was trying to

say something, or learning in some way.

He realized the receiver was becoming very hot in his hand. He dropped it,

feeling his hand singed by the heat. The letters were still changing on the machine on

his nightstand. Faster now, it almost seemed frantic. Like the message it was trying to

say was important, and needed to be said soon. The letters stopped randomizing, and

settled on four words. The tiny LED screen stared up at him. “I-SEE-YOU-HERE”.

The room had developed a chill. Not a truthfully cold feeling, but more of a

suspenseful alienation. He’d been staying for a few months now, he should feel more at

home, but the strange events of the night had changed things. What did the message

on the phone machine mean? How did someone even program it to make it display that

specifically? This had to be some prank that someone was playing on him right? Some

friend from work had changed his caller ID to display the creepy message, but it

shouldn’t be showing up as a phone number then. Something had to be wrong.

He realized something ​was​ wrong. Or rather, wasn’t wrong anymore. The drone

had stopped. It had cut out at some point. He realized the silence was part of what was

making his home feel so foreign. But had the drone not been foreign in the first place?

There was no reason his home should feel less welcoming without it, rather than with it.

He picked up the receiver and placed it back into the holder. It was no longer hot, and

the message was gone from the holder’s screen. His palm itched from where the hot
plastic had touched him. Red welts were surfacing on his skin. He walked to the

bathroom to wash off the injury.

A soft melodic voice carried out of his bathroom. He recognized the tune as the

same one that had made him fall asleep earlier. His mind wanted to recognize the

voice, but a more conscious part of him knew that he had never heard it in his life before

today. Still, despite this, he felt himself being lured toward the bathroom in a trance-like

state. The shower had been turned on. There was someone singing and taking a

shower in his bathroom. He pushed the door open warily, and saw a beautiful girl in his

bathtub.

The last thing he remembered was the scales on her hands, holding him beneath

the water; she sang so beautifully though, surely sleeping a little wouldn’t hurt.

Coming To America

They’ll all tell you that America is not a place for gods. They just aren’t loyal to

their own beliefs, and once they get tired of something they just let it go. They don’t

realize that their actions have consequences. For every god that was brought into

America through immigrant beliefs, all the monsters from their mythologies came too.

The Inuit monsters setting up camp in Minnesota, some leprechauns having fun in

Jersey. It all depended on where those who believed in you ended up, and there are a

lot of greeks in Chicago. While not specifically a deity, the sirens still had substantial
power in this new land. More people were fans nowadays rather than worshippers, but

in all reality, what’s the difference?

The old gods had lost the war in America. The new ones, the gods of internet

and credit card, of plastic and television, they were the ones who were winning in this

land that was bad for gods. The new gods were generous enough to those who would

switch over, betray the old gods. They promised that the sirens would live on in the

internet and media, they would be famous, so long as they stayed loyal.

One last task to prove their loyalty remained however. The sirens were sent to kill

off the descendents of those who had brought them to America in their beliefs. Without

them, the sirens would rely fully on the new gods to keep them remembered. So with a

little help from the god of telephones, and some of their old tricks, the sirens were luring

in their last prey, and securing their safety in America.