Creepypasta - Part 2

Instead of being a little freaked out afterwards I thought about this scene after I realized that there weren't any trains nearby.
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Part 2...

Let's see if the tropes about horror sequels hold true. :o
 
As long as it's more Friday the 13th or Halloween than Nightmare on Elm Street.
 
OMFG Thread Manager strikes again!

There's something in the ladies' room at work

For the past four years, I've worked as a video editor at a woman's apparel company. As you might imagine, most of the employees are female, and I'm in fact the only guy in my department. This leads to a lot of jokes and harmless teasing from both friends and co-workers, but the truth is that I don't mind at all; I hardly even notice. There is, however, one downside. The bathroom situation. But, I'm getting slightly ahead of myself.
A few months ago, due to lack of space, my employer moved my entire department (there are about 12 of us, 11 girls and me the one dude) from its main headquarters to a smaller building across the street. It was a perfect situation; we desperately needed the extra space and the building was available. Unfortunately, it wasn't in great shape. No one had leased the building for quite a while, and it was obvious. Ceiling tiles were cracked or collapsing, the carpets had peeled up revealing bare concrete underneath, and the bathrooms were in god-awful shape. Honestly, the space looked more like a home for squatters than a comfortable workspace. But my employer put a lot of money into remodeling and by the end, it was unrecognizable.
What an amazing transformation. We each had individual working spaces complete with potted plants, ergonomic chairs, and open spaces to decorate however we wished. We were given a full kitchen complete with a Kroger coffee maker, Magic Bullet juicer, and top of the line water purifier. And the girls were given an extravagant bathroom complete with futons and makeup mirrors. (You know, the kind with bulbs around the frame?) But there was one cost-cutting measure the company implemented. And they did it in the one place where it would affect the least amount of employees: the men's room.
The men's room was a single toilet, sink, and plain mirror. That was fine, seeing as I would be the only one using it, aside from the occasional office visitor. But the problem was that the door had a loose lock. Sometimes when I exited the bathroom, the weighted door would shut on its own and randomly engage its mechanism, locking me out until someone from maintenance could come over and jimmy the door back open. It didn't happen that often, but it was often enough to be a huge pain. To make matters worse, sometimes maintenance was bombarded with other matters, leaving me without a bathroom for hours or even days. Luckily, my female co-workers were good-natured enough to let me use the ladies' room if I were ever in the unfortunate situation of having to go badly while locked out of the men's room. They said they didn't mind; if anything they found it amusing.
On the handful of times it happened, I would play it off light-heartedly, though really I hated it. And it wasn't just because of my male ego. It wasn't due to indignity or embarrassment. It was because using the ladies' room just felt weird. Like, weird in a creepy way that I can't really explain. As if when I was in there, I wasn't alone.
I vividly remember the first time I ever had to resort to using it. It was on one of the days where the men's room lock had jammed that morning, and I had gone nearly a whole day without another bathroom break. An hour before my shift ended, I felt like my bladder was about to burst. My leg was shaking, my teeth were biting the inside of my cheeks, and my eyes were beginning to water. I realized at that point that my options were to either use the ladies' room or find a bush outside. I opted to use the ladies' room, though it was actually a tough decision. My female co-workers promised they would guard the door to make sure no one went in while I used the restroom. They checked to make sure it was empty before I shamefully entered.
"Hello?" I said. No response.
My first thought was how nice it looked. Like I said up above, futons and lit mirrors! I was also surprised that there were no urinals. Only stalls. I know that sounds completely crazy, but when you've gone your whole life seeing urinals on the walls of public bathrooms, you do a double take when you realize they aren't there.
I entered a stall, locked it (though I was sure no one else would be coming in), and undid my fly. I stood there in heaven as I emptied my bladder, immediately hearing nothing but the sound of rushing pee. The sound continued for what damn near felt like a minute straight before I heard something else. It was the sound of light footsteps. Then,
"Squeak."
My heart stopped. It was the sound of a nearby stall opening. Someone else was in the bathroom with me. Either they had come in unbeknownst to myself and my co-workers, or they had been there all along and hadn't answered when I called out. After the immediate shock, my feeling was that of utter embarrassment. Here I was, standing in the ladies room, unleashing a floodgate of piss, and some poor girl had to hear it. Some girl I worked with, and who was probably just as embarrassed as I was. Damn, this was awkward.
Somehow, without even thinking, I let out a feeble, "Uhh, sorry." I again heard the squeak of a bathroom stall followed by a light thud. I finished peeing, shook twice for good measure, and sighed deeply as I exited the stall. I saw my beet red face in the light of the mirror as I quickly washed my hands and exited the restroom.
My co-workers swore that no one had entered the ladies room while I was inside. And they assured me it had been empty when I went in. I wasn't sure, but I chalked it up to me hearing things, perhaps water running through pipes in the wall, and had forgotten about the whole experience shortly thereafter.
I only had to ever resort to using the ladies room once or twice in the months that followed, and each time was a miserable experience. Each time I was on edge, always paranoid, always feeling as though I was invading someone's space. Once, while washing my hands in the sink, I looked up at the mirror and swore I saw movement in the corner of my eye. A quick motion near one of the stall doors. Like someone (or something?) quickly ducking out of sight? I couldn't pinpoint where the motion had come from, exactly, but I swore at the moment I saw it, I heard that unmistakable sound.
"Squeak."
Followed by a light thud.
No wonder women go to the restroom together, I thought. It must help block out all the weird sounds.
All in all, using the ladies restroom was an at-best awkward experience. But it wasn't too terrible. Until today. ****. I seriously just got a cold chill up my spine thinking about it. Today was the last day that I will ever, EVER use the ladies' restroom. And I'll make sure none of my co-workers else ever uses it again either, if I can help it.
It had been a normal day if not hectic day. So much to do. A late lunch which I worked most of my way through. (I didn't eat that much as my stomach had been feeling funny all day.) I had a million upcoming deadlines to think about as I left the men's restroom around noonish. It shut. It latched. I sighed, turned around, checked the handle, and wasn't that surprised to learn I had just locked myself out. I sent an e-mail to maintenance and went on with the rest of my day, not thinking much about it.
I soon realized that there was no way I'd make it home on time, especially when a last minute project popped up an hour before I was supposed to leave. I felt a slight worry in my system. First, if I got home late I may not be able to find a parking spot on my block. Second, I was dealing with quite a bit of indigestion and was feeling quite uncomfortable. But I worked as quickly as I could, hoping I could get out in time.
Of course, the days you want to get home early are the days you end up working the latest. Sure enough, by 6pm, the last girl had left the office and I wasn't nearly finished with my project. By 7:30pm, my stomach was killing me. It began to loudly rumble. And it wasn't an, "I'm hungry," rumble, but rather, an "I'm upset and bloated and you are about to have a mess," rumble. Sparing you too many details, let's just say I needed to use the restroom, and use it badly.
I looked at how much longer it would take my computer to finish processing my video project. 45 minutes. That plus the half hour drive home meant there was no way I could wait. I went to the men's room and tried to open it.
"Click."
Oh, right. It was still locked and maintenance had been too busy to fix it. I looked at the ladies room and felt a twinge of nervousness for some weird reason, but shook it off and decided to head on in. (Though the way my stomach was acting, I didn't really have a choice.)
I entered the ladies room and quickly rushed to a stall, unbuckling my belt as I walked. Again, I'll try sparing you the details. But within 20 seconds of sitting down, I felt a twinge of horror. I began to hear footsteps. I listened closely, wondering if I was again imagining things.
"Thumpthumpthump...."
No, it was unmistakable. I was definitely hearing a walking sound. Wait, not a walking sound. A crawling sound? My heart skipped a beat and my lungs turned to iron as I realized where the sound was coming from. It was coming from above me. Directly above me.
I looked up and the sound disappeared. For a moment, I heard nothing but the heavy ache of my own racing heartbeat. Then,
"Squeak."
It was at that moment, I realized I wasn't hearing a stall opening. It was the sound of a ceiling tile lifting. As the tile directly above me slid open, ever so slightly, I know I saw it. My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open as I stared at something that was staring back at me.
Inside the ceiling, partially hidden in shadow, I saw an eye. Peeping around, staring right at me for a single instant. Then, as quickly as it was there, it was gone. The last thing I remember hearing was the light thud of a ceiling tile dropping into place.
What happened next is a complete blur. I don't remember standing or even pulling up my pants. I don't remember grabbing my keys nor exiting the building. I just remember the pounding in my chest, a pounding so hard that my ribs ached, as I drove home, replaying the events in my head. I wondered how the bad place I was going to tell my all-but-one female department what I saw.
It was a man's face. But not entirely human.
 
Goddamn, Piper Maru.

That one got to me a bit. Freaky. Especially since I get paranoid "someone's watching" feelings in public washrooms/change rooms as it is.
 
Enjoy.

Last thing I remember was the roar. It was deafening, almost like a living thing. Seconds after the roar something hit me and I fell. I stagger to my feet. People slamming into me nearly knocking me down again. No idea how long I was down. I'm a bit trampled and I think I cracked a rib. I taste blood and feel my lip has been split open.

Sirens going off everywhere, flashing lights, yelling and screaming all around me. I try to find shelter but the panicked mob is everywhere. My family and I have been separated for hours. I heard a child crying and its mother screaming for help. No one listens.

People are an unthinking mob now, surging towards whatever goals they may think of from second to second. A wave of flesh trampling all in its path. I duck behind a pillar and watch them flow past, all individuality lost. A panicked herd seeking escape. I see one person try to escape from it, he trips and is enveloped and crushed underfoot.

It goes on for hours, the screaming, the noise, the panic, the pain. Eventually the people disperse, vanishing into the darkness. I see what little is left and I'm thankful that I was spared. The police and ambulances are here, helping what little they can, trying to save those that survived the onslaught. It's far too late.

I ****ing hate Black Friday.
 
The Black Friday Incident

The early stages of production on the film Toy Story were a complete nightmare. The production was in a sort of development bad place until the the infamous Black Friday incident. Disney harassed the then new animation studio Pixar constantly. They were to produce and release the film, and they wanted results as quickly as possible. Disney tried everything to eliminate Pixar's efforts to deviate from the Disney formula even at times threatening to shut the production down. Disney sent notes on revisions that they thought would improve the film. They insisted through their notes which all read:
Edge. The film needs more edge.
The people working on the film at the time struggled so hard to maintain all of Disney's notes and demands. Once a week they were required to fly across the country to the Disney offices to present them with progress. Every time they were met with the same response:
Edge. The film needs more edge.
Pixar revised the film so hard to meet the deadlines that it resulted in some rather interesting changes. In order to achieve edge, the film became quite a lot darker. Woody became a wildly unlikable character, much more angry and far less comedic than in the final film. Bo-Peep's role in the story was far more prevalent, often flirtatious towards the male characters and is the first to accuse Woody of pushing Buzz out of the window. Buzz Lightyear was referred to at this point in production as “Lunar Larry.” He is highly reminiscent of an older super hero, talking in a deeper voice and is even more deluded and ignorant of his surroundings. The other toys were relatively unchanged say for minor aesthetic differences.
Pixar employees worked literally 24/7 nonstop. Director John Lasseter joked on more than one occasion that he had the best parking space at the office because his car hadn't moved for over three days. Some of the writers and story board artists began to suffer from chronic insomnia. A few writers reported seeing visions of Buzz and Woody taunting them on their lack of progress, chanting:
Edge. The film needs more edge.
Many of the initial writers quit due to the stress it was putting on their personal lives, much to the distress of the remaining crew. By November of 1992 there were two of the five writers left, and only one of the three story board artists.
The remaining story board artist was named Ralph Thompson. He joined the Pixar team in the winter of 1987, working on short films such as Tin Toy and Knick Knack. He, at that same time, did some storyboard work for The Nightmare Before Christmas with fellow artist Joe Ramft. Joe came down with a serious illness and hadn't been to work in a week. Ralph worked constantly in fear of the inevitable correction by Disney. More Edge, more Edge. Each presentation meant another row of sleepless nights of rewriting and redrawing the same characters in the same bedroom over and over and over. It was maddening.
One morning, John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton and other higher ups at Pixar came into the office and told everybody what happened at their last meeting. Disney felt that things were not looking very good for the film and demanded that, in less than a week, they see the complete film in story reels (Storyboards with audio) with massive revisions. There was a general groan and whining from the crew and they went back to working.
Ralph worked harder than all others involved. Sometimes, at two o clock in the morning, one of the writers would walk into Ralph's office with a packet of newly written scenes. More to draw. And with more drawings meant more scratch voice work.(When a film is still in the writing/storyboarding stages, artists will do temporary voices for the story reels.) He had Disney's vague instructions racing through his mind.
More! More edge! Edgier! More! We want results people! Edgier! This is a business! Faster! More edge! Move on, Already!
He thought to himself this exactly. The film needed an edge. It needed to be darker, more cynical. It needed more adult humor and situations. It needed an attitude. Of course. Ralph, you Goddamn guitar, how couldn't you see it sooner? Edge. All of those hundreds of hours bent over a desk, and all you needed was edge. Why didn't you listen sooner?
He gave the film an edge.
The story reels were flown over with the main crew to the head offices at Disney. The date was November 27th 1992, Black Friday. The film was brought into the Disney screening room. The reel was about 48 and ½ minutes long. The movie started out as a western style shoot out between Woody and Andy resulting in Andy being shot down. It is revealed that this was just a game played inside of Andy's mind. The film continued on with little problems for about the first twenty minutes or so, though several gags seemed off with the overall tone of the film. For example, Mr. Potato Head would pull one of his eyes out and kick them under Bo-Peep's dress for a “look-see” There were several scenes of Woody yelling at the toys to stop caring about Buzz (Larry) and to pay attention to him, culminating in insults and minor acts of violence.
The scene comes where Andy can only take one toy to Pizza Planet and Woody pushes Buzz out the window. Woody offers to shake hands with Buzz (Larry) only to throw him out of the window. There is a stock smashing noise. The other toys are shocked and antagonize Woody for what he has done. Woody shows little remorse and screams at Slinky Dog to make the toys stop harassing him. After much yelling, one of the green army men saying the word “Goddamn,” the toys grab Woody and toss him out the window as well. He falls onto the ground with a low thump. Cheering is heard from the interior of the house.
The quality on the storyboards become much less refined and almost like chicken scratch.
Woody gets up and sees Buzz (Larry). Buzz's body shattered on impact. His arms and legs were broken off and located only a few inches away. There was a large crack down the middle of the chest revealing a mess of buttons and wires inside. He gave off a sort of electrical twitch motion in his head, his eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of their plastic sockets. The twitching stops after a few moments and Woody looks in fear at what he has done to Buzz and runs off.
There is a jump cut to the scene where the two get stuck in a claw machine. The storyboard art is back to its normal level of quality. The machine is filled with sunglasses-wearing pizzas as apposed to the aliens in the finished movie. Buzz is completely unharmed and intact. The scene is almost verbatim to the final film. Sid, the antagonist in control of the claw, is wearing a yellow T-shirt and is smoking three cigarettes at once. The claw grabs Woody and Buzz (Larry), putting them in the clutches of Sid.
There is another jump cut, once again returning to the chicken scratch style of artwork. The scene is inside of Sid's room. Woody looks around the room in fear. He tiptoes around the room and collapses after seeing one of Sid's mutant toys.
The reel now shows unrelated test animation of the characters running. A few seconds of Buzz (Larry) running in place, a few seconds of Woody running, and nearly a minute of the two running together. The footage is distorted and Spanish text is present on the screen.
There is now a shot of Woody standing in front of a black background and the trademark Pixar ball is rolling around in the distance. The animation now is the traditional animation style of a typical 2D Disney film. Woody is completely naked, with anatomically correct features, and stares directly into the camera. His flesh begins to rot away with the exception of his eyes which remained intact. Woody begins to moan in a low voice.
What remains of his lips curl into a smile, bits of flesh peeling off as this happens. He lifts up his decomposing arm manually and waves into the camera. His fingers dig into his eyes, dark blood oozes out of their sockets. Woody begins to scream and growl:
“Don't you want it? Don't you want it? Don't you love it?”
He digs so deep as to rip the entire top half of his head off. Woody gives a sigh of relief and begins eating the flesh off of the skull before tossing it aside. He writes the word "edge" on the screen with his rotting fingertips.
The remaining 15 minutes of the reels were pencil scribbles accompanied by the shrill screams of a young woman. The word "edge" is burned into the projection screen.
The screening ended in complete silence. Chairman of Disney at that time, Jeffrey Katzenberg, walked out of the screening quietly telling his colleges:
“Notes. They were following all of the notes we were giving them.”
Upon returning to the Pixar offices writer Pete Doctor found the body of Ralph Thompson in an enormous pile of paper in his office. Further analysis found that the cause of death was a heart attack brought on by a lack of sleep and stress. The papers were all story boards and animation cells of the final coherent scene of Woody. The word edge scrawled on the back of each one.
After the Black Friday screening Disney was far less involved with the film. Pixar was given the freedom to make the film their way. The film went on to be a huge success both critically and financially. The Black Friday incident still remains very much a mystery.

Further Information:
There is a short bonus feature on the Toy Story Blu-Ray about the incident, curiously not mentioning the more notable scenes. It can also be found on Youtube for anyone who is curious to see the whitewashed history. Disney produced the short documentary to avoid discussing the incident. If you contact them about it, you'll be redirected to the Blu-Ray's Amazon page if you get a response at all.
 
America's Funniest Videos - Banned Episode
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Black Snow
The following is the typed copy of Jacob Conley’s written journal Which was found in the snow, near the top of Mount Everest on January 12th 2012

December 20th 2011 3:23 PM
Flight just landed in Kathmandu. 16 hours; 7,431 miles; and two extremely annoying loud, drunk, middle-age women later. I wish I could have ignore their constant chatting on the way over, but an iPhone’s battery only lasts so long. Plus I’ve already seen Mission Impossible (the in-flight movie) too many times. I managed to get to my hotel easy enough. The taxi driver understood English, maybe a little too well, he talked the entire drive. He talked about all the fun and enjoyable attributes of the wonderful capital of Nepal. I tried to explain that none of it really matter because I was going to spend little to no time in the actual city. The purpose of my stay is the climb Mount Everest. Sounds dangerous, doesn’t it? Yeah, I know. I got the whole speech from my mom. No matter how old I get she still treats me like a child. The whole purpose of the trip is because of the danger. I’m going with my best friend PJ. See, he’s done this all before, and he returned and told everyone his amazing story of his climb to the “Top of the world.” A few drinks later and I agreed to do it with him. His speech about me, never doing anything exciting, and living my whole life inside, and being alone all the time, was persuasive and hurtful, but I’m too good of friends with PJ to punch him. So that’s how I am where I am now. Oh, and the reason for the journal. It was PJ’s idea, he wants us to look back on this trip and remember all the exciting details. Well, PJ, I hope reading through this book is everything as exciting as you wanted it to be.

December 20th 2011 6:15 PM
Ugh, this suit is so uncomfortable. PJ wanted to take me to a restaurant that he went to the last time he was here. The problem is that its black tie and I didn’t bring any ties. So, he made me where his extra one. Who brings two suits on a mountain-climbing trip? Whatever, he’s taking so long to get ready, maybe we’ll miss our reservation and we’ll go to a bar or something.

December 20th 2011 11:47 PM
HALLEJUAH! After the horrifying experience of wearing a suit for two and a half hours during a four course meal PJ and I resided at a local bar, where I striped myself of my jacket and tie and proceed to down four beers in the course of 20 minutes. I’m typing this on my phone so I’ll have to write this into my journal when I have a chance. I just wanted to document the night before I forget it!

December 21st 2011 4:09 PM
I’m so pissed. Because we were out drinking all night we missed our group to go up. See, we were part of a group of people with a tour that was going to lead us up, because we’re not very experienced mountain climbers. It’s the same thing PJ did his first time here. But we missed the ****ing group. However, PJ claimed he knew where the group took a break, and he said that he knew a short cut on how to get there. The only problem is that we had to go up places of the mountain that were too steep to climb. Well, I guess on a positive note I learned how to actually climb up the mountain, with ropes, picks, and everything. I guess it took too long to climb or something because when we got up here the group was gone. There’s no way I’m heading back down, I’ve already told PJ that. I’m not spending another grand on a new group that leaves in 6 days once the other one returns. I’m not spending money on another 6 nights in a hotel. We have supplies, PJ knows the way. We’re going to keep climbing and that’s final.

December 21st 2011 8:16 PM
I’m pretty sure my feet are bleeding. I know I’m in shape enough to do this, I guess the bad start of the day threw me off. Anyway, I’m exhausted. We did so much climbing today; I’m really surprised that we didn’t catch up to the group. It’s a lot colder up here than I imagined. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not stupid. I knew it’d be cold. I did my research, PJ made sure of that. He hounded me for an entire week before we left. He wanted me to be an expert on climbing and mountains. Just thinking about the endless nights I looked at those books and Wikipedia pages makes my head hurt. I’m wearing a parka and plenty of sweaters and we have a fire, but I still feel really cold. It’s weird, I almost feel like the breeze is swelling from my insides, shaking my core. Like there’s a breeze through my bones. The funny thing is, even though it’s constantly below freezing and it snows from time to time, we still saw a river today. It was going down the mountain. PJ said that it was from the snow higher up melting and running down the mountain. We filled up our water bottles there, but there were still some parts of it frozen. Like a thin sheet of ice on top of the rushing water. There are some things in nature I just don’t understand. Oh yeah. Even though PJ said not to, I brought my phone. He said he wanted it to be just him and me, alone. Just two friends bonding on the adventure of a life time. I think he just said that to make light of the fact that we lost the group. Still though, maybe he was right, maybe it was rude of my to bring my phone, but it doesn’t even matter the sub-zero temperature is killing its battery. It probably won’t even last the entire climb up. I think I’ll just turn it off, save the battery. Who knows? Maybe we’ll need it later.

December 22nd 2011 8:46 AM
I could barely even sleep last night. The winds are so strong that they nearly rip the entire tent off the ground. PJ slept like a rock, other than him going to the bathroom every hour. I was up the whole night and never heard him, but without fail, the tent would be wide open every hour or so. I almost froze to death. I mean, seriously, how goes to the bathroom five times in one night? At least I think it was five, it may have been more. I asked him about it but he said that he never once got up during the night. Apparently he brought with him some over-the-counter sleeping meds. These little pink tablets that he crushed up and took right before heading to bed; he was out like a light. That much may be true, but I still think he did keep leaving for the bathroom, how else could the tent keep opening up. I didn’t do it. I think he’s just embarrassed about it, maybe he has diarrhea. I’ll respect him enough not to mention it again. I mean, Even though I had the horrible sleep that I did, PJ demanded that we woke up when the sun rose. I don’t understand why. Sure, if we wake up later it’ll take more time to climb, but we have enough food and water for at least 10 days.

December 22nd 2011 9:02 AM
I was so out of it this morning and I burn our breakfast. We were going to cook some bacon and eggs, but I wasn’t paying attention. I dropped the pan that we were cooking it in. My vision was kind of blurry and I picked up the pan on its side and not only did that cause the food to fall into the fire, I also burnt my hand. PJ was furious, not only did we waste food. We’re taking more time to eat which means we “waste daylight”. I though being on this trip with him would be fun, but he’s taking everything way too seriously and keeps bossing me around. If the entire trip is like this, then I’m just going to turn around and climb down off the mountain. This trip couldn’t possibly get any worse
[there was something else written, in blood, which was obviously added later]
WRONG!!

December 22nd 2011 1:08 PM No sign of the group yet. We’re half way up the mountain and there’s no sign of anyone actually. When I did all my research on Mount Everest it said that there were a bunch of camps scattered throughout the mountain, but we haven’t seen any yet. I asked PJ and he said that we were going on an amended route to catch up with the group. This used parts of the mountain less traveled. Even so, I’m suppressed we have seen any. We haven’t seen anybody, at all. Its offsetting, the whipping winds mixed in with the dead cold silence. It makes you feel so alone. I don’t even have PJ to talk to. He’s always far in front of me, going at a pace that I can’t keep up with. I ask him to slow down but he keeps saying “We have to keep going!” “We have to find the group” I’m worried he may have gotten us lost.

December 23th 2011 7:50 AM Woke up early this morning; to make up time for yesterday’s blunder. PJ’s been acting strange. Normally I wouldn’t hear the end of his constant nagging about a **** up that bad. But he hasn’t said a word. Not that I’m complaining. Well… I kind of am. He said that this would be a bounding experience but we have been talking to me almost at all this whole trip. I’ve tried talking and making jokes to lighten the mood from the whole “We’re ****ing lost” thing but he doesn’t even glance at me, let alone say anything. In fact the only time I’ve heard his voice is when he’s ordering me around, and last night. When I could have sworn I heard him talking to himself… This doesn’t seem like PJ at all.

December 23th 2011 8:12 PM I’m shaking. Just thinking about it makes me start to subtly weep. I’m scared. I’m distraught. I can’t think straight. We found the group. Or what was what was left of them. Judging from the numbers of tents most of the people were gone. The ones we found were. Dead…slaughtered. Blood everywhere. Guts, ripped out of bodies, cast aside and sprawled out on the icy rock. Snow soaked red. One poor guy… looked so much like my younger brother. He even had the same pale-blue eyes. He was completely ripped into two pieces, set out on the snow. His organs lying frozen to the ground. His face, was that of terror. Agony. He looked so much like my brother... All of their stuff was there. The person…no… The thing that committed this ungodly act of brutality had no intention to steal their items. No, it had no other goal than to reap, to massacre these people. And PJ? That bastard had the largest grin on his face that I’ve ever seen! He enjoyed the horrific view. It was entertainment to his now apparent twisted and sinister mind. He wanted to keep going! He wanted to get us killed too! I was not staying with him another moment! I left him there. I headed back down by myself. My phone was gone when I looked for it. I guess he found it and took it away from me. He’s turned into a damn lunatic. I’m not sleeping tonight. No way am I not letting PJ or whatever killed those people get to me. I’m not closing my eyes until I’m on a plane heading back home.

December 24th 2011 1:20 AM PJ’s dead. I killed him.
I heard him coming. I crawled out of my tent, startled and staring off at him in the dark. I told him not to come any closer. And he didn't for a while. He just stared at me. I couldn’t see his eyes; I just saw the blackness shrouding his face, letting him blend into the night. It was silent. Not even the wind could be heard. The crackling of the fire subsided and it was just silent. Until he spoke. I really wish he didn’t speak

He told me that there was something up here with us. On the mountain. Something awful. Its purpose was nothing more than to kill and torture souls. It fed on people. Consumed them in the most grotesque ways. Sucking on their insides, gouging out their eyes, knowing on their crimson stained bones. The last time PJ went up it found and killed his whole group. But he called out to it, made it a deal. He said he would bring someone up to take his place and he’d give them to it. He said he’d do it every year until the day he died. And he chose me. He went back and convinced to climb up with him. He was going to let it kill me and then he’d go back down and do it again. He even had the nerve to say that he didn’t know who had the worst end of the deal: me, because I get devoured by a bad place-beast; or him, for having to make the climb with some new meat every year. I couldn’t let him do it. I charged him. I knocked him on the ground and started beating him. I hit him and hit him until my knuckles bleed and I kept going. The cracking in my knuckles was muffled by the flesh pounding into bone. To make sure he was finished I pushed him of a nearby ledge. He hit the ground with a satisfying crack. His lifeless body sounded by shadows and black snow
It’s done, over. PJ’s dead and I’m too far from the top for the creature to get to me.
I’m getting of this mountain and warning every one of the horrors that are up here.

December 24th 2011 11:54 PM What a bad place of a Christmas Eve this had been. No problems on the way down so far. I think I’ve finally gotten a hang of this hiking thing. I’m about half way down the mountain and at this rate I should be home and surrounded by my family in no time. I miss my mom and dad so much. I need nothing more right now than a loving embrace from my family. I’ll have to call my brother and tell him I love him. But I’m getting a head of myself. I’m way too excited to climb down. I went almost all day without eating until now. I’m wolfing down this sandwich. It’s really good and about the single best thing I’ve had since I’ve been up here. My dad taught me how to make them. What you do is you take the ham Wow. I just got really lightheaded. I guess all my hiking has really caught up to me. I feel so drowsy. I can barely keep my eyes open. ****… Something just fell out of my sandwich A Little. Pink. Pill
[Written in blood]
MERRY CHIRSTMAS!
 
I read Abandoned by Disney. I didn't think it was scary at all.
 
Just for old times sake...

Star Light

I remember the first time I witnessed that gruesome sight, right in front of me. It had been all over the news for the past week but until that moment, I was still unable to take any of the stories seriously. I guess that’s what happens in a world where the media exaggerates every little story they encounter, to pull in more dull-minded viewers.

It first started in the icy wastelands of Russia, back in 2012, hikers passing through on their travels discovered bodies half-buried in the snow, their abdomens mutilated and the occasional limb removed, only to be found a few meters from the body. At first these finds were put down to wild animals desperately searching for food in the lifeless tundra, they barely even made news on Russian broadcasting networks, only the locals to the areas (of which there are few in such a desolate place) really heard the stories.

It’s strange, now that I think about it. The attacks had been happening all through late December and simply went unreported until February when things became more severe. Heck, maybe those Doomsday lunatics were onto something after all and no one noticed.

As the days went on, after the initial attacks, panic in the Russian wilderness began to spread as more bodies were found in the wild, remains scattered in the snow and yet an even larger amount of people became reported as ‘missing’. It wasn’t until mid-January that the first body was discovered in a public area. In a small rural town, sitting on the edge of the wastes, two disfigured bodies were discovered by a few poor citizens on their way to work, their limbs scattered all over the streets. This was the first case that managed to work its way into the mainstream media outlets. Everybody just dismissed it as a murder case, the sort that you hear about in foreign countries all the time. What kept my attention was something the autopsy reports discovered: The murder hadn’t even happened at night. It seemed to have happened only an hour before the first poor soul discovered the freshly broken body. I mentally gagged at the thought of finding a body strewn across the floor, still bleeding.

As the days went on, more and more reports came in of bodies being found in small villages across Russia, completely destroyed and with no clue as to the cause and just like the original, all of them had happened in broad daylight but with no witnesses to recall how it happened.

It was February when the first ‘big incident’ occurred. I remember it distinctly because it happened to be my birthday. Breaking News all over the world, insane stories coming from Russia, it seemed impossible to believe at first. The anchorman on TV spoke quickly in an urgent voice, of barricades being erected in Moscow as people from outside ran screaming to its walls, begging to be let in. What he said next made my heart jump.

People in cities and towns all over Moscow were being eviscerated in plain daylight.

The attacker? Nothing.

People were being cut to ribbons, in their homes, in the streets, all over Russia, in plain daylight but there was no visible attacker.

I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. It had to be a hoax, it didn’t make any sense. However, my curiosity overpowered me, I had to see it for myself. I loaded up my laptop and began my trawl of some of the ‘darker’ parts of the web, in search of videos of the insane claims. As it turned out, there were thousands of videos on the subject, so I clicked on a random one.

It was being filmed from a rooftop and involved frightened people of all ages, running through the streets in panic with nothing noticeable chasing them. I remember moving to click another link after thinking nothing would happen, when suddenly a random man in the group seemed to scream and then…

Explode.

It just happened. There was no warning, no sign of attack, the man wasn’t even at the back of the group. It seemed as though fate had picked a random person and just decided he would die, there and then.

I sat in shock as the video ended abruptly. Moving the mouse up again I clicked on another video, this one was being filmed from behind a barricade to hold back fleeing citizens. I guess that was their idea of ‘controlling’ the population. Various men in military uniforms lined the barricade with large rifles, looking on at the crying, begging people with little emotion. Then out of nowhere, one of the women at the front of the crowd was ripped apart by the air and thrown across the military’s front line. I gagged a little at the sight, despite having been reinforced against this sort of thing. In a panicked response, the soldiers sprayed their guns at the point of the attack as if trying to hit the invisible assailant but their bullets went through the space and took out the civilians behind the remains. People scattered as the soldiers unloaded their rounds into the crowd and then spontaneously, one of the soldiers burst apart. The cameraman seemed to panic at this point and the feed went dead.

My mind was struggling to get to grips with itself. I honestly didn’t know what to think. I always imagined myself in these situations before, acting like I was in a movie, analysing every mystery and saving the day by solving it but this… this just made no sense. I was scared.

The next day, Russia entered lockdown, as did many other countries, in hopes of keeping this ghostly threat out of their nations. News from Russia dropped as a result. It was completely cut off from the rest of the world and we could only hope they were okay. And then… life continued. Of course, people talked of it but everyone just seemed to stop fearing it. In reality it seems, we were just trying to put it behind us because of our fear. Humans fear what they don’t understand so it seems ‘not thinking about it’ was a suitable way of combatting that fear.

It wouldn’t last.

The year moved on and days became longer and then that day came… the one I wish I could forget…

It was a bright day in the middle of May and I was out with a group of friends, celebrating the completion of another year at University. We were walking and laughing to the in-jokes we had created over the last year, trying to remember them all before we retreated to our home towns. At one point we stopped while a few of our party went to buy food from a shop and I began talking to my closest friend, Ryan. We were midway into a conversation about what game to play online next and then…

It was so abrupt. Just like in the videos. He was halfway through a word and his body just… burst into pieces.

Blood and entrails splattered across my body. I stumbled back in horror as my mind processed what had just happened. Around me, people ran away from the area, screaming for help but I barely noticed. Where my best friend once stood was now just a bloody mess and my mind was never given a chance to prepare itself. I dropped to my knees and vomited on the floor, crying. It was at least fifteen minutes before I was able to take control of myself again and actually get up. By that point, the police had arrived and were telling me to remain still, as if they thought I had done this unspeakable act.

I remember sitting in that gloomy room, barely being able to answer any questions the investigators had for me, simply replying with a nod or shake of the head. They told me that this wasn’t the only place it had happened. In fact, it had become a worldwide pandemic. The brief period of peace had just been the calm before the storm. What we thought was sealed in Russia was now everywhere and it wasn’t even spreading from a single point as it had been at the start. It was a full scale attack… nowhere was safe.

We were evacuated to military bases and defense points in hopes of holding back this invisible invasion but we all knew it was no use. Me and my family were taken to a military installation in the countryside where we stayed for a month. No contact with the outside world was permitted, in fear of giving our location away to the creatures.

A single analog TV was our only view of the outside world, it seemed a few rogue pirate news stations had popped up to keep those locked away, up to date with current events. The quality was terrible but in a time like that, it was better than nothing. We heard reports of strange lights being sighted, not in the sky but closer to the ground. We were told of countries falling one by one, their entire populations being wiped out. There was also one report of scientists discovering ‘something’ in the sky. The report said that they couldn’t ‘see’ it but whatever it was, it was giving out a lot of energy and it was big, the size of a small moon, in fact. Images of Russia came in from aerial photographs. Moscow was ablaze, towering buildings reduced to rubble and in their remains, shook large shimmering waves of fire. A close up of the streets showed roads bathed in red with human remains dotted around in several areas.

The video feed switched to another aerial clip of a gigantic crater. The host went on to describe the location as a former Nuclear Power Plant that had entered a meltdown two months ago due to no one controlling it. At the end of the clip, the camera quickly moved upwards, to focus on a second helicopter that was now spinning out of control. Against the window, flashes of that all too familiar red colour could be seen as the video suddenly cut out.

The last broadcast on that channel was the most disturbing. We switched the TV on to find the man in tears with streaks of blood down his face. He looked extremely scared and spoke with a weak, trembling voice.

“Oh God, they’ve come! The angels have come for me, Lord! They’ve taken everyone here and now it’s my turn. Judgement Day is here, loyal viewers! There’s nothing left for me on this Earth anymore but… for those who might be left, I think I know how to survive against them.”

He let out a loud, sharp laugh.

“Just my luck, hey? To find out when it’s too late. All you have to do is stay out of the-”

His sentence was cut off by a scream as his body was ripped in two, right before our eyes. The channel didn’t shut off though. It’s still there, in fact but all you see now is the decaying corpse of an insane man, one of his eyes limply staring at you through the camera lense. Since then, there were no more accessible channels. Our last view of the outside world was gone.

It didn’t really matter anymore, to us. We were a small group of people left amongst what must have been less than a million humans on the Earth. The ‘what’ and ‘where’ was no longer our concern.

For a while, everything was quiet. The soldiers kept us in line, we fed off of what rations the base had, we stuck to strict curfews and attempted to socialise and keep ourselves entertained in our new little personal world. We were somehow quite content with our new lives, with no outside world to bother us, no responsibilities or concerns for anything but our little community. On top of that, the lack of news about outside events allowed us to almost forget what had been happening.

Until one night at the end of August, I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of a scream. I was on the floor of a large room containing hundreds of other sleeping evacuees, the realisation still startled me every time I woke up, even though I had been sleeping in these conditions for the past month. My vision was blurred somewhat as I attempted to focus on my surroundings and my body appeared to be mildly damp and slightly sticky. I didn’t think much of it, I had had many restless nights here and we were in a cramped humid bunker. On the far side of the room there were two dim lights creeping in through the doorways.

Someone must have left the light on in the corridor I thought to myself.

It was rather puzzling, the thoroughness of the soldiers here would have never allowed something like this. All lights had to be switched off at 8pm and they checked every night. Surely by now, a guard would have found this and switched it off again. Maybe it was one of them doing a midnight check on us all?

That’s when I noticed something odd. One of the lights was… moving. Not moving behind the doorway but it seemed as if the doorway itself was moving. It drifted silently across, closing in on the other door, at first I thought it must be a soldier with a torch. I winced and rubbed my eyes, attempting to focus on the object then, just as it merged with the light of the door, I managed to focus on what seemed impossible.

It had the shape of a tall, disturbingly thin humanoid but where the body should be, there was nothing. No abdomen, no limbs, no head. The outline of the mysterious being seemed to just drift across the wall in an area of light. The first thought that entered my mind was ‘inverted shadow’. I know it sounds crazy but it was as if, instead of creating a shadowy outline in a lit room, something was creating a bright outline in a dark room. Unfortunately, this was the best view I could get of the entity as it seemed to literally merge with the light from the doorway and disappear.

My body was frozen at the sight and out of fear, I chose to lay down and try to get to sleep again, hoping that whatever it was, it wouldn’t notice me. It was another long, restless night.

I woke up at 8am, light peered through the small slits in the top of the bunker and kept the room bright enough to see wall to wall in the giant reinforced mass of cement.

I wish I hadn’t seen it though.

Blood covered the walls. Where once had been sleeping bodies, now laid the remains of a silent massacre. What I thought had been my own sweat from the night before turned out to be the remains of my parents who had once slept beside me. I screamed. Not a single person was spared that night. Well, save for myself.

Walking through the base, it seemed these things had made short work of every human on site and yet, the gates still remained firmly shut, guards posted on the watch points had their destroyed bodies hanging over the rails.

It was quiet.

I sat in the middle of that compound, alone, sobbing to myself. I was alone in the world. These things had killed everyone I knew and loved and I was lost. I didn’t know what to do. I slept in that compound for 3 days until I saw him again. That man of light, eerily and slowly drifting through the darkness and merging with the light once again. This time, I could’ve sworn he noticed me. He stopped and turned, till he was head on with me and just stared at me. I couldn’t move, my body just refused to listen… and then the being left.

I don’t know why they keep sparing me. Is it for amusement? Because they pity me? Or something more? I just can’t get my head around any of it…

After that night, I took as many supplies from the base as I could and journeyed towards the nearest village which is where I now reside. I managed to find a house with a basement and locked myself in there with the supplies… but I never turn the light on anymore. For three weeks I have been living in total darkness. Not because I think they’ll find me but… I think I know what these things are now.

I once read a science fiction book that detailed a possible route a species may take in its evolutionary course. This species would evolve beyond the simple realm of the physical and became a being of pure energy. When a species would reach this point it would obtain near omniscient knowledge and have no care for life or death anymore. What the intentions of such a hyper-powerful species would be are impossible to predict since their minds are so much more advanced than ours.

It seems in our Universe, a species has gotten there before us. They ARE the Light. Where we always feared an alien species abducting us in the middle of the night, it turns out that darkness is our only safety from the real threat.

The Beings of Light.

Two days ago the Second Star appeared. A Red Giant that now sits opposite our Sun, bathing both halves of the Earth in light. And now there is no longer night on this world. There is no place to hide on the outside. I don’t know what they want with our planet or why they chose to kill us all but I know this:

They have killed everyone here.

If you’re out there, don’t go into the light. Stick to the shadows if you want any chance of living. Darkness doesn’t kill them but it sure slows them down.

There is a light coming from beneath the basement door. I have to go now.

Good luck.
 
Cascade Volcanic Arc Enigma
JUNE 12TH 1996 - The following was recovered from a handwritten journal by Officer V. Antonelli on the scene of an abandoned campsite. The writer has so far been identified as a Mr. Richard Hayes, whose driver's licence was recovered from his discarded clothes. The entries of his journal were later compiled and transcribed by the British Columbia RCMP.


5/16/1996
Today there were a series of wild earthquakes throughout British Columbia. While most cities were able to endure it, a few villages were obliterated when a large fault was discovered near the epicentre, around the Cascade Volcanic arc. So far most sources have said it's several kilometres long and rather deep, like valley when walked through. I'd really love to take some pictures of it, as nothing like this has happened in Canada before, but I'm writing this in a motel right now before I start hiking tomorrow morning.

5/17/1996
I went out at about nine o'clock, and about three hours after that, I met a young woman hiking on the same route I was. Her name is Samantha Worth, and I'd place her age between 19 and 25, rather plain-looking. Apparently she was fascinated by the news of the fault on TV and wanted to see it for herself.

We reached the fault and at the side of the mountain was a large crowd, even some news outlets. We could all see, and it baffles me to even describe it here, thousands of perfectly human shaped holes in the rock. These holes were absolutely perfect; there were even some details of fingers, hairstyles, ankles or ears on certain holes. They continued far into the rock for as far as any of us could see, and there were teams of university researchers on hand to attempt to analyze them.

I attempted to listen to one of the research teams. The human shape they were studying went straight into the mountain for about thirty metres before slowly curving off inside the mountain. Theories started flying around then...like, they were dug out from the inside by Aboriginal tribes, or that they connect to an entrance that's blocked with built-up soil, the same that was clogging these holes for hundreds of years.

Samantha became antsy as soon as our party reached the side of the fault. She claimed to have seen it on a TV broadcast this morning, but she believes there's a hole in the shape of her silhouette somewhere. I attempted to convince her otherwise but she began shouting at me, which caught the attention of several others whom are looking for holes in their shape. I was able to calm Samantha down long enough to go find a camping zone with three other searchers. I felt like the least deranged person among them.

5/18/1996
Isaac, the leader of the search party, woke us all up at about seven in the morning to tell us that he'd found his hole in the mountain. Samantha and I hurriedly got ready and followed him, and I admit that the hole matched up perfectly next to him. But somehow he could sense my disbelief, and I remember him glaring right at me before promising he could "prove it". He stripped down to his underwear, climbed into the hole just the way his limbs would match the shape, and slipped in. However, he wouldn't stop, and by the time Samantha had returned with help, I couldn't even see his body in the hole.

Later the park security called in a rescue squad, and an officer close to Isaac's size climbed in to check, but had to get out after less than five metres in and openly refused to go near it again.

5/18/1996, 11:53 PM
I just woke up from one of the worst nightmares I've had in years. In this dream, I was Isaac, and I was completely trapped in pitch blackness, hundreds of metres into the hole. I kept trying to move, but my arms and legs were stuck in narrow ruts, the stone outline around me crushing my ears and lower arms. The earthquake must have deformed the rock so badly that I couldn't go any further. Isaac started screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to squirm further, but the rock was crushing the sides of his throat, only making his screams higher and strangled. I woke up feeling like I was going to be sick. I'm strongly considering going back to Calgary as soon as I can.

5/19/1996
Samantha greeted me at my tent this morning. She had found her hole.

She directed me to where it was on the side of the mountain, and sadly, it was a perfect form of her silhouette, even with a slope from her head to shoulders where her long hair would be.

The more we were in front of it, the harder Samantha started shaking. From what she was able to tell me, she believes it's a hole specifically dug for her, fully intended for her to enter, but she knows she'll never come back out of it again. She asked me to hold her back from it in case.

As we were walking away, a young man in his late teens started screaming at the top of his lungs, climbed the holes, and got into one, yelling at the crowd, "This is my hole! It was made for me! Tell my mom goodbye!" He threw his glasses to the ground and slipped into it perfectly. The crowd began panicking, and as we stood there, we realized that about six other people had entered or were about to climb into their respective holes. It turned into utter bedlam trying to get them out, so I took Samantha with me down to the lake for some sight-seeing to calm her down.

It lasted about ten minutes when we got there. She wanted to go back and just watch her hole. I let her, but she just sat before it for the longest time, eyes wide. Slowly she started to rock back and forth, bawling and mumbling, her noise getting louder and louder until I ran over and attempted to make her stop. Out of desperation, I grabbed some of the rubble and fallen rocks around us and began to fit them in her hole in the mountain. It took a while, but soon I'd completely packed it shut. I brought her over and assured it wouldn't "call" to her again. There are little emergency tags taped over so many other holes that I can't believe it.

That night, Samantha asked to connect her double-ended tent to mine, as she was too scared to sleep alone. I accepted; she's beginning to feel a bit like a daughter to me.

5/20/1996, 2:04 AM
I just woke up from another awful nightmare. I dreamt I was a member of a caveman tribe, hundreds of thousands of years ago, and I was about to be punished for committing a gruesome crime. Nobody in the dream spoke, only gestured, so I don't know what I did.

They led me to a cliff, where there were countless other holes in varying sizes. I knew automatically, as if I'd been told it before in the dream, that when a person of my tribe committed a crime of my magnitude, they had a hole dug out for them that they were forced into.

I had no choice but to move forward. There was cold stone all around me, and the walls were carved in a way that kept you - or someone of your perfect size - from retreating. I kept sliding down further and further for what felt like days, and eventually, I felt a growing tug on my neck. To my horror, the further I went, the indent for my neck only got longer and narrower, gradually stretching it as I went. The indent for my limbs slowly curved and twisted in several directions at once, and over time, I felt my body warp into a series of thin, noodle-like appendages.

I woke up and checked that Samantha was still in her tent. She doesn't seem to be sleeping well, either. I'm going to attempt to return to sleep too...

5/20/1996, 8:18 AM
Samantha's gone.

I panicked, and the first thing I did as soon as I got into my hiking clothes was begin searching for her. I didn't have to look far, as I found her hole in the mountain stripped of all rocks, an emergency tag taped over the silhouette of her head.

She's as good as dead, or worse. That's it.

I don't feel like doing much today; I'm going to hang around the lake and take pictures of whatever I can to take my mind off this.

5/20/1996, 7:15 PM
I found it by accident while walking back to my tent. My hole. It's mine; there's perfect indents for my waistline, my hair, the shape of my arms, everything. I tried to see what it looked like next to my body, and it was very, very close, but I was afraid standing in position by it would make me jump in.

I'm holding myself up in my tent. I don't want to go outside, not even in an effort to go hike to my car...all I can see is my hole in the distance when I'm out.

I'm shaking all over. I don't know what I'm going to do today and I hope I can sleep this feeling off.


END EXCERPT - Subject disappeared from campsite between the hours of 21:30 and 23:00 PM and is assumed missing in the same manner as previous casualties. Mr. Hayes is estimated to be casualty #144 at the Cascade Volcanic Arc.

Officer Vincent Antonelli, Royal Canadian Mountain Police, Southeast District, Kelowna, British Columbia

6/12/1996, 12:41 PM
RCMP FILE UPDATE - SEPTEMBER 22ND, 1996 - The following was submitted from a university research file conducted by the Okanagan University of British Columbia by a Dr. F. Rojet on 19/09/96.

Day: #124, Study Date: 18/09/96, Dictation: Dr. Fredrick

Data: We have been attempting to track the other sides of the Human Indents of the Cascade Volcanic Arc for the longest while, and thanks to a tip from a family of climbers, my team and I were able to find the entries on other side of the mountain. Like the other side, the shapes are carved carefully into the earth, the surface around them smooth from where the earth split in the fault. However, these shapes resemble nothing remotely human. They can be best described as long, wavy shapes of five long tendrils. Two of my students offered descriptions; Anne Chau called them squiggles, and Greg Beaton pointed out that they resemble spider veins.

There are approximately fourteen of them in view, the others presumably still closed off by unbroken earth.

My team began carefully checking as many of the formations as we could. I decided we would check the large one at the far bottom last, but we found no trace of life up to thirty metres in any of the others. Out of curiosity, my assistant Pat slipped off to see if the large one was the same, in the event that we could pack up early. Instead, our notes were interrupted by his terrified screaming.

We made our way down to the hole, where he was pointing frantically, claiming "it" was heading toward us. I took his flashlight and peered in, and I will now attempt to describe the utter travesty of nature that my team's eyes fell upon.

It could possibly have resembled a human at one point, but now appeared a narrow stream of writhing, folded flesh that rippled as it slid forward. I could see the faintest grooves and scars that the surrounding stone had inflicted. Its right leg was long and narrow, its left wide, compressed and short like a wrinkled stump. Its left arm continued far to the side, and its right so far up I could hardly see it.

Its face, worst of all, was a long, curved shape, maybe two meters long. The mouth had been plucked of all teeth as a result of pressure, wide and forced open amidst a frame of warped waves of skin. One eye was positioned before the other, bleached due to the lack of light. I vaguely remember Pat calling for the RCMP as I watched this thing draw closer, a pale wide-eyed tangle of flesh, with the faintest choked groan echoing from its gaping mouth.

END EXCERPT - SEPTEMBER 22ND, 1996
 
For Elise

From the SCP-Wiki
Elise was my only thought. I meant nothing but to have her.

I started with one, one of me, alone in everything, nothing else entering my world but me and a ham radio set, airwaves singing my thoughts to me as they brought voices, friends from every corner of everywhere.

It was my friend. Until I saw her.

She was beautiful, a vision in a blue striped dress at the supermarket, buying milk and flour and sugar and butter and blueberries. I had bought a bag of apples and some Hot Pockets.

I think she was making muffins.

I tried to talk to her, I tried to say hello, but she just smiled and kept walking. She saw me, she looked me in the eye and smiled!

I was ecstatic. I had been noticed. This gave me hope.

I used to read, read books, manuals, scribblings on bathroom walls and sewer tunnels about time and space and holes and loops and exceptions to causality's restrictions. About nuclear munitions and tachyons singing the music of unreality at the tops of their lungs, which are metaphorical of course.

But reading can sometimes lead to inspiration.

As I read, I came back to the grocery store at the same time, same aisle, same bag of apples in my hand, waiting for her to make another batch of muffins, but she never came back, not once, so I'd nearly given up on seeing her again.

And that was when I saw her.

I hadn't had any clue where the courage came from, whether it was the song in my head or the smell of her shampoo or the bag of apples in my hand or the fact that I needed to make this decision quick because I needed to go to the bathroom, but I did it. I asked her to join me for coffee.

We hit it off immediately.

In my shed, I was building, building something groundbreaking and amazing. Something beautiful, something so complex it was a symphony of antennae, transistors, and resistors, a veritable orchestra of electrical parts.

Along with some Caesium.

I knew it would work, even though nobody said they could be reproduced. Nobody said anything about making them outside of an explosion, and even then, they were only born for a fleeting second and then died. They couldn't exist in this world, this plane so alien to their own.

But they weren't motivated by what I was.

She was happy when I asked her out a second time. We lost ourselves in conversation, forgetting the world, time becoming meaningless in the face of our fascination with each other. We ate little, talking through the night about the world, the future, the past, and the present.

We would have all the time in the world.

By the fourth date I had rigged an adaptor into the power substation near the radio antenna. I'd tell her to come with me to see the view, invite her out to watch the sunrise. She was from here, she knew how mind-boggling a sunrise over wheat fields looks.

By the fifth, it was almost ready.

By the sixth date, I told her to meet me at the radio mast at 5:00 AM. Things were in motion, I had set everything up according to plan. All that remained was for me to tell her the words I'd prepared. The words telling her I loved her more than life itself. The words she'd have forever to hear.

She showed up.

The first thing I did, the last thing I did, and the only thing I'll ever do was kiss her, then hit the switch. Then the humming started, and stopped and started and stopped and started, never stopping. The door couldn't be opened.

Then we kissed again, then I hit the switch. Then the humming started, and stopped and started and stopped and started, never stopping.

We tried opening the door when we were done again. It wouldn't budge, it only flickered in the candlelight which came from everywhere and nowhere.

Then we kissed again, then I hit the switch. Then the humming started, and stopped and started and stopped and started, never stopping.

She screamed at me, that she hated me, that she didn't want to die in some shack waiting forever for the sunrise.

Then we kissed again, then I hit the switch. Then the humming started, and stopped and started and stopped and started, never stopping.

I told her it would be alright, that we'd get home somehow. We'd get home soon.

Then we kissed again, then I hit the switch. Then the humming started, and stopped and started and stopped and started, never stopping.

Tachyon emission was only possible in theory, they said. I built one in my garage. I picked up a way to make a moment last forever. And it's true. We have eternity, we can hold each other forever!

We can attempt to undo our wrongs and start over every half hour.

I have no idea how far out the tachyons have reached.

But I know that my love and I are now together forever.

Because I was there the day time died.
 
Okay, one more before I vanish into the ether...

Why I don't Go to Camp Anymore
I have been attending Camp Rock Water for about four years now. I just loved camping, being able to see some new faces, getting to do fun and exciting activities. My favorite part was the River Rope Swing. I never wanted to leave that swing once I got on. I was just so excited to go back, mainly because it would be my last year I went. Summer finally came and it was time to head to camp..

When I got to camp after a four-hour car ride, I was so excited. I was just on a big nostalgia trip remembering all of my old favorite places. First things first, my mom had to take me into the lodge to get signed up. When we got into the lodge there were a lot of people there. We waited in line until it was our turn to sign up. Before we were handed any papers, the lady at the table told us that there had recently been some weird things going on a few miles down through the woods from us. I kind of just ignored it.

My mom helped me lug my suitcase to the cabin. When we got there, I was so happy to see some of my old friends from last year. Kyle, one of my long time camp friends, was sitting in a corner making his bed. Jacob, another one of my really good friends, was on the floor taking stuff out of his bag. And who could forget about Brad! He was putting stuff in the closet, like baseball bats and golf clubs. As for the other two kids, I had no idea who they were, but they both seemed to like me. Turns out they were brothers. Their names were Brandon and Nathaniel, and it being their first year they were kind of nervous. We all got settled in, and after our parents left we sat down and started talking about past adventures in camp.

It wasn’t for another hour that our cabin leader arrived. When he got in, he kind of looked at us all with a gloomy face.

He turned to us and said, “Hey, guys. I’m your cabin leader for the next two weeks. Now, before we do anything, I have to tell you that some things have changed, and we will have to be more cautious due to the weird things that have been happening.”

We all were a little uneasy, but we wouldn’t let that stop us from having the best summer ever. The day continued on as normal: we introduced ourselves, played some cards in our cabin, went outside and played basketball, went to the mess hall to eat, and came back to the cabin to sleep. It was kind of odd that there were only 6 cabins full of people; usually there are around 30.

So the next day when we woke up, it was raining hard. The sounds of the rain smacking the metal roofs of the cabins echoed off to the distance. The camp leader was nowhere to be found. We kids kind of sat around the middle of the cabin, just waiting for our cabin leader to get back. We started talking about some ghost stories that happened around the camp. Some of them seemed completely stupid, but others were kind of scary. Outside of our cabin, there was about 400 acres of woods. In those woods, there were some obstacle courses, the chapel, and the river. There was one more thing in the woods that nobody really knew about, because it was so far off. It was the original Camp Rock Water cabins. There were only a few of the older cabin leaders that knew about it and how to get to them. Supposedly, back in the early 1900’s when the camp was first established, two kids got into a fight in their cabins. One kid killed the other in his sleep. He had apparently taken a heavy rock and dropped it on the other boy's head. Legend has it that the presence of the boy who was killed, lurks around the old camp ground and chapel. The boy could be sometimes seen crying at the back of the chapel. Someone even said they went to the cabins and saw his head peeking out from one of the windows.

At this point, everyone in our cabin was really scared. I swear Brad was going to have a panic attack. Our camp leader came rushing in through the cabin door. He told us that we needed to pack our things and go to the lodge. We would have to call our parents in the morning to tell them to take us home. We walked all the way from our cabin to the lodge in the rain, completely drenching our stuff. When we got there, only four other cabins had been there. As I was sitting next to the fireplace with my cabin mates, we overheard people talking about what was going on. Someone had said that all of cabin six had gone missing after returning from chapel!

Later that night, I woke all of my friends. I wanted to go and check out what had happened in the woods. Though at first they were very hesitant, they still agreed to tag along with me. We grabbed a few flashlights and snuck past the cabin leaders that were sleeping near the exit. When we got outside, it was still raining. But now it was pitch black outside. This still didn’t stop us from heading over to the woods.

When our group finally got to the mouth of the woods, Brad and Jake just couldn’t do it. They sadly walked back to the lodge through the shortcut in the gardens. All that were left were Kyle, Brandon, Nathaniel, and I. We walked slowly through the thin path towards the chapel. Every now and then, we would trip over some uprooted trees, but we still kept going.

We could see the chapel ahead of us, but there was something wrong. It was very quiet. The rain had stopped; there was no wind, nor any kind of animal in sight. As we walked up to the chapel, Brandon (who was carrying one of the flashlights) just started screaming. He ran as fast as he could back towards camp and dropped his flashlight. The light was shining towards the chapel, and through one of the illuminated windows, we saw a face of a child, crying. We all screamed and started to run towards the camp. Out of fear, we lost all sense of direction and had no idea where we were. We came up to the ravine that led down to the river. There was a small black figure that blocked our path. Our only way out was taking the ravine. Nathaniel, Kyle, and I began scaling down the side of the ravine, and we noticed another figure, but of our own. I shined my flashlight down a ways, and there was Brandon lying dead, head smashed in, blood everywhere. He must have tripped on an uprooted tree and fallen down the side of the ravine. But we had to just keep running.

We were halfway down the ravine; we could feel the sweat falling into our eyes like ocean water. And there it was again, a figure of a little boy standing at the end of the ravine, waiting for us to “play” with him. I told everyone just to keep running. I looked behind us, and Nathaniel had disappeared. Completely gone! Kyle and I saw the old stairs coming up on our left that led back up to the back part of camp. When we got to the stairs and we were almost to the top, we could hear a kid saying, “We can play with the rocks!” We didn’t stop to look back. We ran all the way to the lodge. When we got there, all of the cabin leaders had been awake. Two other cabins had left to go “investigate” what was going on in those woods. They both went missing. Kyle finally spoke up. He hadn't said anything all night until now.

"I saw him. The boy just wanted to play with us."

Years have passed since that encounter. Kyle was sent into a mental hospital for serious mental trauma. Jake and Brad were found buried under that chapel after they demolished it. Their bodies were cut up; their hands cut off and put into a small chest across from them. As for the other three cabins of kids, nobody ever found out what happened or where they went. Maybe they just didn't care.
 
No Piper, don't go. I love the stories you post.
 
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