Tuned in (standard:mystery, 1217 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Jul 30 2019	Views/Reads: 1393/996	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Won't you help a stranger out? please...it's just a small favour.

Around and around it went, chasing its tail, the dog spun, and Jason
Lamborne laughed at the video on the computer. When it finished, the 
next video appeared and it featured two pensioners arguing at a 
bus-stop which led into a fight. Jason shook his head, amused. 
Sometimes pensioners can be so immature, he thought. 

The next video featured a busker in a paved shopping area, singing away
whilst a clearly drunk individual swayed and shifted, dancing, stepping 
to music that did not match what the busker was playing. Jason worked 
in a call-centre, which basically meant cold-calling people to try and 
get them to part with their money, asking whether or not people have 
been involved in an accident at all and that they can make a claim. 

He was on his half-hour lunch break, and had only been here a week, so
didn't really know anybody. Not that he cared about that. It was not 
the type of job that warranted committment, and he guessed that the 
other workers felt the same way. It wasn't a good job, more convienient 
to earn money whilst hoping something better would come along. You 
would get your loyal 'employee of the month' jobsworths, trying to 
please their superiors, and this place had them, but Jason didn't care. 


He had had a few successes so far, but nothing special. Most people as
soon as he rang and found out what he was after, just put the phone 
down. "Good evening sir" he would say happily, "How are you 
today?....." Even that put people's defences up. Click, silence. Or, 
the recipient would say something along the lines of:  'What, you want 
my bank details?..ok here we go, grab a pen write this 
down....g.o.f.u.c.k.y.o...' and it would be Jason that hung up. Or 
sometimes people would use him to have a rant. 'You know it's people 
like you that run this country down....' Again, Jason would hang up. 

Then he would strike oil where the person swallowed everything he said.
Ok, here are my bank details. Then Jason would recieve a bonus for 
every customer he found. He wondered if he shouldn't use his spare time 
here to look for jobs instead of watching videos. 

The next one, on random auto-play featured a man in some sort of prison
cell, lying on an uncomfortable looking bed, doing nothing. He looked 
to be from the Mediterranean area, perhaps Greek or Italian. What's so 
amusing about about this? Jason thought. There was a door to the left 
on the back wall, and to the right the man just lay there. The walls 
were bare and cream coloured. Jason watched as the man looked up, as 
though he been awoken by light shining in through the monitor. He got 
to his feet and slowly made his way towards the screen. "Hello," he 
said, "Can you see me? Can you hear me? Hello..." he waved, and spoke 
with a Spanish lilt. Jason decided to wave back. "Hello," he said, not 
expecting a reply, yet, he got one. "Hello," said the man, " I can see 
you. You have dark red hair. You're wearing a blue shirt and you look 
to be in your late twenties. You look like you're in some sort of 
office". Jason just stared. "Wait, you can see me?" he said. "Yes", the 
man replied. "My name is Raoul". "I'm Jason, but how can you see me 
through the screen? These computers are old, they don't have webcams". 
"I can see you through here. Anyway, could you please do me a favour?" 
He pointed at the door. "I need you to come and let me out. I'm locked 
in here". "Where are you? You could be anywhere". "I'm much closer than 
you think," said the man. "Anyway, you'll probably have a new 
smart-phone or something like that. Could you get this video up on it? 
and I will guide you". Jason just stared for a few moments, then 
nodded. "Ok, it's my break anyway". He grabbed for his phone in his 
jacket which he had slung over the chair. The man told him how to get 
the video up and soon he was watching him on the small screen. He 
turned off the computer and stood up. "Hi" Raoul said, waving, "Show me 
the room". "I can't, people will think I'm filming them". "Please, I 
really need to get out of here, and I only need to see where to guide 
you". "I could leave the building and then you could tell me where to 
go". "Ok," said Raoul, disappointed. Jason put on his jacket and walked 
out into the corridor. "Alright, I'm leaving. Better than an afternoon 
of cold-calling anyway". He made his way to the stairs. "Stop!" the man 
shouted and pointed to little effect as Jason looked at the screen. "I 
just saw a door, a room. Could you go in there please". Jason saw he 
was by the managers room. "This is one of my bosses rooms. I'm not 
going in there". "Are they in?" Jason saw through the windows that he 
was, engrossed in a conversation at his desk on the telephone. "Next 
room," said Raoul. "Is there a room next to it?" "That's another of my 


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