BY BOBBY DYLAN
If there needs to be something you all should be warned about, it is the Daily Targum. Not the paper itself, but the people there. Currently, I am on the run from Targum’s personnel and so I write this hastily, but I must let the word out. I must let the community of Rutgers University know about the danger that currently resides within the walls of 26 Mine Street.
It started off with me joining the Daily Targum early this semester. I was a journalism major and I figured that I could get some nice experience. At first it all seemed to go well, that is until the new editorial board came in. Board 147, the one filled with the most sinister and secrecy of all, is becoming too powerful, too dangerous.
I remember even from election night that there was something adrift. All the veteran members of the Targum seemed nervous and afraid, as if they already knew what was to come. And the source of all this tension was a girl, no taller than five feet. Tanned skin and overall tiny, this being drew all the wary eyes in the room as she moved forward to take the center as she readied to perform her speech for the EIC position.
As I tried to ask someone next to me what was wrong, he refused to answer and just darted me a glare before giving his full attention to her. Someone in the background asked her with a meek voice to give her speech. The woman then replied with an emotionless tone, “Vote for me.” Standing there to see if anyone would even dare to doubt her, she would remain there for the rest of the night. Coincidentally, no one would run against her and she won the position with just those three words.
In the upcoming weeks, I soon found out hints to finding who she truly was. While none of the returning members would give me a solid answer, I could gather there was something different about her, something inhumane. Some rumors began going around that she had been implemented by the Board of Trustees after last year’s fiasco with members resigning and letting out confidential information. They needed someone who could control the Targum, someone who they themselves could completely control.
It was only till just the night before I began to flee that I learned about the origins of the new EIC was. I cannot say understood, because what “she” is, is not absolutely not human. I came into the office late one night in order to finish up an article on some new rare moss, when I saw her step out of my office. In fact this was the first time I could recall her leaving the office. As she walked over to one of the editors, my curiosity got the best of me and I hid behind a cubicle, while she commanded in dead-tone, “Come into my office.” Though reluctant, the editor quietly followed behind her and shuffled around. Once the door was shut, while I cannot verify exactly what did occur inside, I could hear a revving, like that of a chainsaw, followed by painful shrieks echoed throughout the Targum office. Horrified, I started to head for the door, running as fast I could. However, as I was leaving the building, the EIC’s office opened up once more, and I could feel her eyes burning into the back of my skull.
Rushing back home, I received a phone call from an unknown number. Nervously I picked up the call, and after some terrifying moments of silence, I heard her voice. Her cold, mechanical voice that brought all to chills. “My office. Now.”