Chapter Twenty-Three - The Taos Hum

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Taos Hum

YOU HEAR IT, or you don’t. But once you do, it never stops.

Since the early '90s, residents of Taos, New Mexico, have reported a persistent, low-frequency hum—like a diesel engine idling in the distance. Some people say it rattles their bones. Others say they can’t sleep. A few say it drove them to leave town altogether.

Here's the thing:
Only about 2% of people can hear it.
Microphones? Nothing.
Sound detectors? Nada.
No source. No direction. Just… humming.

Naturally, theories pile up.

Some say it’s geological—underground tectonic shifts, desert acoustics, weird reverberation.
Others think it’s manmade—military communication systems, classified satellites, even mind control experiments.
And of course, a few go full tinfoil: alien tech warming up beneath the mesas.

But scientists tested it.
Local universities investigated it.
The government knows about it.
And still—nothing conclusive.

No cause.
No proof.
Just that same low hum, rattling a handful of skulls in the desert.

One resident said it best:
“It’s not the sound that scares me. It’s the feeling that something is always there, just beneath the noise.”

Maybe it’s just a trick of hearing.
Or maybe some people are tuned in to a frequency the rest of us were never supposed to hear.