Dead Air

The beat was their life. Now, it's a death sentence.

Ty, Malik, and Jalen were inseparable, a trio of aspiring music producers who traded the cold of Michigan State for the blinding ambition of Los Angeles. Jalen was the genius, the architect of sound. Malik was the hustler, the one who saw the platinum plaques. And Ty was the voice, the one destined for the spotlight. They were on the verge of everything.
Then, Jalen is found dead—an apparent suicide, slumped over his mixing console with an empty bottle of pills. The official report is neat, tidy, and utterly wrong. Ty knows the truth is buried somewhere in the static, a truth that haunts him more than the crushing guilt of not seeing the signs.
When Ty and Malik go to secure Jalen's life's work, they find more than just unreleased tracks. They find a studio transformed into a shrine of obsession: cryptic symbols, ancient texts, and a corkboard mapping a terrifying new direction in Jalen's music—a dark, esoteric pursuit of "ancestral frequencies" and "sonic keys."
But the real clue is a single, unlabeled cassette tape hidden away. The word on the label: Sable.
Now, Ty must dive into the last, terrifying project of his best friend. As he listens, the music is more than just sound; it's a living, breathing entity, a gateway to something ancient and hungry. The deeper Ty digs into Jalen's final, desperate mix, the closer he gets to the truth of his death—and the closer he comes to becoming the next victim of the sound that kills.

Some frequencies are meant to stay dead.