Cole Burkhardt
speaker
840 appearances
5 recordings
1 series
first heard May 2026
last heard 7 Sep
Cole Burkhardt’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
Trend
recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 5 in all, peaking in Sep 2026 with 1.
Appearances
Inhale.
Dillinger cautiously stepped into the kitchen, his hand resting on the grip of his .38, through the doorway, into the black.
The kitchen was going, not completely gone, but in the process of going.
No half-baked cake, no linoleum, no four walls, just a hollowed-out piece of reality being eaten from the inside out.
Small pieces of wall and floor swum in the black space like an abstract painting that was slowly unraveling before him in a swirl like oil in water.
Fear now thumped at his ribcage as he turned back to call down the hall to Smitherson.
but there was no hall anymore.
Just an endless, dark cavern, its floor and walls seemingly made of shimmering rock that rose up to a penumbral sky.
He tried to call out, but his mouth would not open, and his brain could not conjure the sound.
Locked in his own mind.
Still,
The clock ticked, louder than anything else.
In the center of what remained the linoleum floor, where the breakfast table should have been, sat what appeared to be a large obsidian black stone cube, the center of what looked like a vacuum.
The stone slab of absolute night, two meters tall, with edges so sharp they seemed to slice the very air around them.
It didn't just sit there, it anchored the room.
A low hum that emanated from the stone thrummed in sync with the ticking of the clock.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
The once dead man in the peach dressing gown was there too, but he wasn't on the floor anymore.
He was suspended in front of the black stone, feet just hovering above what was supposed to be the floor.
Strands of wool from his gown were floating upward, vibrating, disappearing into the surface of the block.
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