Okay. Morning. I think.

[pause]

The light outside looks exactly the same as when I went to sleep. Like it never got dark. Or never got light. Just... the same.

[pause]

Head's a bit heavy from last night. Nothing bad just... yeah.

The Tender is a decent place actually. Would give it a solid four stars. Minus one for the fact that I genuinely cannot tell if it's seven in the morning or seven at night.

[cut]

Grabbed something to eat. The diner again. Same light in there as well.

[pause]

Same people too, I think. Or it feels like the same people.

Anyway. Cabin.

[cut]

I swear to god that it said something about it being on the edge of town in the forest, with a road as well so it should not be this difficult to find the damn place.

[cut]

Ah, look at this. I think I found a small path leading into the forest, must be somewhere in this way.

[cut]

There's a deer. Or was. Just the bones, still kind of... together. Spine intact. Laid out clean.

[pause]

Huh.

[cut]

I have never seen a tree like that. Though it was a person to begin with.

[pause]

Been there a while by the look of it.

[cut]

Okay. I found it.

[pause]

At least the clearing matches the description. We got the narrow path, suddenly thinning trees, and the cabin... sitting there.

[pause]

Oh. Looks like the door is slightly open.

I- uh. I guess I'll just enter

[cut]

I remember the notebook describing the inside, but... I don't think it mentioned anything like this.

[pause]

There are four statues here.

[footsteps]

Carved. Rough wood.
Look like they are human figures wrapped around each other. Looks almost intimate.

[pause]

Or maybe not...

[pause]

Ugh... yeah. Their hands dig in too deep. And their bodies don't really look fully natural. Faces tilted upwards with open mouths.

Hard to tell if its supposed to be ecstasy or pain.

[long pause]

And there are symbols burned into the walls here. Circular patterns, some overlapping, but still spiraling inward.

Might just be teen agers in the area doing this.

[cut]

[footsteps on wood]

Just entered the second room. Smells metallic. Like rust, but weirdly sweet.

[footsteps, floorboards creaking]

The floorboards in the corner here are darker than the rest... Rain maybe?

[cut]

Okay so I just left the other room into this one and I can instantly feel some sort of vibration going on here. Like quiet and low but I can still feel it.

[pause]

The floorboards over by the wall are bent upward. I feel like I remember the notebook saying something about that. Can't remember if he checked them or not.

[footsteps]

Cant be that bad.

[wooden planks prying and giving way]
[snap, thud]

Damn. It was really stuck there.

Let's see what-

[pause]

Th- there's a body under here.

[pause]

She's- it's a woman. Young. She doesn't look- she's not rotting. That's not- she should be rotting.

[pause]

Her stomach is wrong. There's something pushing out from under the skin. Like a- I don't know. Structure or something. Built in there somehow. Like a honeycomb.

[pause]

And there are insects moving in and out of her.

[long pause]

I'm going to move some of the soil back.

[pause]

That's... that's not soil...

There are bones under here. Small ones. Animal I think. Something with a narrow jaw.

[pause]

And fabric. Denim. A belt buckle.

[very long pause]

There are- those aren't animal bones. That's a ribcage. That's a- everything down here is fused together. Packed into one- I don't even know what's holding it all together. Some kind of resin maybe. Everything compressed into one...

[pause]

She's not the center of this.

[quietly]

She's just another layer.

[cut]

Ok... I think the stain moved. Like, its not in the same spot anymore. Its moved like, up the walls or something.

Oh its, um... I think its pulsing? Like it looks like its breathing.

The fuck is up with this place?

[cut]

I-I think I just heard something. Not the vibration. But like a voice... could not make out whatever it was trying to say.

[pause]

Wait.

There it is again. Its coming from the wall. From the hive room or whatever the fuck you would call it.

[muffled voice] H-he-

No. It can't be the woman, right?
There is no way she would be able to survive for that long under there...
She didn't even have actual lungs to be able to-

[muffled voice] ...help...

SHIT-

[violent scraping across the floorboards]

Its moving. Its moving?

[wood splintering]

[pause]

Oh- Fuuu-

[running footsteps]

No. Nope. Fuck this-

[recording ends]

___

CUSTODIANSHIP (The other stories so far)

Its smaller than I expected. Not that it has a lot to say, but its smaller.

There are a good amount of people out here on the sidewalks.

Yeah... all of them are in larger groups and standing real close to one another. Not really my kind of thing, but if that's their culture...

[quiet singing]

Its kind of nice here, welcoming, I suppose...

Yeah I think I'll take a lap here around town to check out the area first. Yeah.

[back to quiet singing]

The Basin.

Looks to be a bath house maybe...

[pause]

[quietly]

I could really go for a bath right now.

[deep sigh of relief]

[back to quiet singing]

Hm... lots of people there. A bar maybe? uh.... The Round. Yeah gotta' be a bar or something.

But they are like hella' close to one another. All are kind of touchy as well...

[Slight hint of fear in her voice]

T-touchy...

[Snaps out of it]

[goes back to quiet singing]

That's a diner. Might be the same one from uh... Michael. Yeah.

I'll park and see if I find anything here. Bar sounds good as well though... Yeah I'll do that after.

[cut]

[low music and chatter in the background]

Staff was nice. Managed to find a decent place to sit a bit more for myself as well. Don't want to disturb the others here with my talking you know.

Not sure what Michael meant by the people her being weird. I mean I get that they are no-

[Male voice] Hey there. Everything good tonight
[Alma] Oh, uh- just whatever's good. Coffee for sure.
[Male voice] You staying long?
[Alma] Just the night probably.
[Male voice] Mhm. We'll see about that.

[footsteps leaving]

[quiet]

He was really close to me, like I don't want to be rude but... Personal space dude...

[cut]

[low music and chatter in the background]

Everyone here seems to be like one big community. I think I even heard someone walk past some people and finish one guys sentence before making his way further.

Food is really good, would give it a five stars, but something about this place tells me its not on any traditional site where I can rate them.

[pause]

Speaking of the food.

[quiet]

Those two are eating from the same plate, does not even seem like they care, or even notice one another.

Ugh... di-did he just bite that other guys hand? Like while holding the same sandwich. H-he's bleeding.

[pause]

Sir! Your hand!

...

Yeah, just making sure. That's all.

[quiet]

Bar sounds good about now.

[cut]

Place looks busier than the diner. Can already hear the music coming from inside the walls.

[pause]

[quiet]

Bouncer by the door. Big guy.

[footsteps]

[Alma, casual] Hey.
[Bouncer, flat] You good?
[Alma] Yeah. Let me just get my...
[pause]
[Alma] Here you go.
[Bouncer] Go ahead.

[cut]

[loud music, crowd noise, close to recorder]

Okay this place is-

[music swallows the rest]

[cut]

[laughing, slightly too loud]

No but like- did you see that? With the- yeah okay. Okay.

[cut]

-no I'm just passing through actually, yeah just the one night-

[cut]

There's uh. Fire. Someone's got- they're doing something with fire over there.

[long pause]

[someone laughs loudly nearby, music swells]

That's cool actually. That's really cool.

[cut]

The drinks are so... I don't even know what's in this.

[cut]

[Male voice] -been here my whole life so-

[laughing]

[Alma] yeah that tracks actually-

[cut]

[recorder clicks on, just music and crowd, runs for a few seconds]

[cut]

No- no. I cant take more. I mean I want to, but I have somewh-

[chittering, wet - one throat, then another, then the room]

[pause]

What the fuck was that?

[cut]

Okay I should. I should find somewhere to uh, to, yeah...

[pause]

Excuse me- hey, sorry, do you know anywhere I can stay the night?

[Female voice, warm] The Tender. Just down the road.

[Alma] The Tender. Okay... yeah.

[pause]

[quietly, almost to herself]

The Tender.

[recording ends]

___

CUSTODIANSHIP (The other stories so far) (more to come on this sub once it catches up)

Transcript - Witness Interview

Interviewing Officer: Det. Michael B. Battaglia

Date: [REDACTED]

___

Battaglia: Thanks for coming in. Just for the record, can you state your name.

Orpheus: Orpheus [REDACTED]. Is he okay? Nobody's told me anything, they just said to come in and-

Battaglia: We're trying to establish some things. You know Hylas [REDACTED].

Orpheus: Yeah. Yeah he's my friend. Has been since high school. Is he-

Battaglia: When did you last see him.

Orpheus: A few weeks ago. At my place. Why, what happened?

Battaglia: We'll get to that. What happened when you saw him a few weeks ago.

Orpheus: Nothing. We were going to watch something and he said he had to go. He had somewhere to be. That was it.

Battaglia: Did he say where.

Orpheus: No. He didn't really do that anymore. Say where he was going.

Battaglia: What do you mean by that.

Orpheus: Just... he'd stopped explaining himself. The last few months. He'd just say he had somewhere to be and go.

Battaglia: How long had that been going on.

Orpheus: I don't know. Four months maybe. Five. It kind of crept up on me. Can you tell me what this is about?

Battaglia: In a minute. You said he'd changed in the last few months. What else changed.

Orpheus:

[pause]

A lot of things. I didn't really... I noticed but I didn't put it together as like, one thing. It was just Hylas being weird and I figured he'd tell me when he was ready.

Battaglia: What kind of weird.

Orpheus: He got really into certain kinds of content online. Dark stuff. Graphic. True crime, worse than that sometimes. And more... I don't know how to say this. Adult stuff. Which whatever, but it was constant. He'd get anxious if he hadn't been on his phone for a while.

Battaglia: Did he talk about it.

Orpheus: Not really. He'd mention things he'd watched but if I questioned it he'd shut down. He didn't like being asked about it directly.

Battaglia: What else.

Orpheus: He started spending a lot. More than he had. He was always complaining about money but he was still buying things, going out, paying for experiences. It was like he couldn't stop acquiring things. Food, clothes, whatever. Like sitting still with less than he wanted wasn't possible for him.

Battaglia: And he was going out more.

Orpheus: Yeah. For a while. He got really social which wasn't like him, he was always kind of private before. But suddenly he was out all the time, different people every time, always doing something. I barely saw him.

Battaglia: And then.

Orpheus: Then he went the other way. Pulled back. Stopped talking about what he was doing or who he was seeing. But he still expected me to tell him everything. If I didn't he'd get cold about it. Like I owed him that but he didn't owe me anything back.

Battaglia: Did he mention anyone specific. Someone he'd got involved with.

Orpheus: Not by name. He mentioned a place a few times. Somewhere he kept going. He never said what it was.

Battaglia: What did he say about it.

Orpheus: Almost nothing. Just referenced it like I should know what he meant. Like it was obvious. When I asked he looked at me like I was being slow.

Battaglia: Did he seem scared at any point.

Orpheus: No. That's the thing. He seemed... certain. More certain than he used to be. About things. It's hard to explain.

Battaglia: Try.

Orpheus: He just had this quality of... knowing things. Like he had access to something I didn't. He stopped asking my opinion on things, stopped being uncertain the way people normally are. He'd just state things. Like the conversation was already over before it started.

[pause]

Why are you asking me all this. What happened to him.

Battaglia: His landlord contacted us. He hasn't been seen at his residence in [REDACTED] days. Some of his things are still there.

Orpheus: So he's missing.

Battaglia: We're looking into it.

Orpheus: But you called me in. You already knew something or you wouldn't have called me in specifically.

Battaglia: Your number was in his phone. You came up in a few places.

Orpheus: What does that mean, a few places.

Battaglia: Is there anything else you can tell me about where he might have gone. The place he mentioned. Anyone he might have been with.

Orpheus:

[long pause]

No. I don't know where he went. I don't know who he was with at the end. I kept thinking he'd come back around and tell me what was going on. He never did.

[pause]

The last time I saw him. When he left to go wherever he had to be. He seemed fine. Normal. Or what normal had become for him. He just got up and said he had somewhere to be and walked out and I thought okay, he'll text me later.

He didn't text me later.

Battaglia: If you think of anything else give us a call.

Orpheus: Is he dead?

Battaglia: We don't have any evidence of that at this time.

Orpheus: That's not a no.

Battaglia: We'll be in touch.

[Transcript ends]

___

Interview conducted [REDACTED]. Subject cooperative. No further interviews scheduled at time of filing. Case assigned [REDACTED]. No leads developed within standard follow-up period. Case moved to inactive status [REDACTED] days after filing.

Statement transferred to collection per standing arrangement.

-R

I wasn't planning on recording today.
I mean, I never really plan these... I just gets quiet. Like when it feels like the radio is just playing the same five songs on repeat before loosing signal again.

Anyways.

I found something a few days back. Some sort of small notebook in my hotel room. So like normal I stashed it and now is probably a good time to read it.

I mean I got nothing else better to do. And maybe its interesting enough to check out.

[Cut]

Ok so I'm stopped now.

So looks like there is a tile here one the first page. "Cabin"

Time of entry, 1964.
Location, Outskirt Settlement, Northbound Route

And the owner of this book is named Michael.

Here we go.

[Reading notebook]

I wasn’t looking for the cabin.

I took the northbound road because I was tired of the highway. There was a turnoff I didn’t recognize. No sign, just a break in the trees. I followed it longer than I meant to.

That’s how I found the place.

Someone at the diner mentioned an old cabin deeper in the woods. Said it like it was nothing. Like everyone knew it was there.

I don’t know why I decided to see it.

The road narrows after the last house. Gravel gives up halfway in. You have to drive slow.

The cabin sits in a clearing that feels recently disturbed. No obvious tracks. Just the sense that the ground has been walked on more than it should be.

It’s small and weathered. One window cracked. Porch sagging but not collapsed. It felt occupied. But not lived in.
I didn’t go inside at first.

That’s when the car arrived.

Two young adults. Early twenties, maybe. Laughing like they were trying to outrun something heavier than humor.

They didn’t see me in the trees. They went in together.
I should have left then, but I didn’t.
I stayed long enough to hear the shift in the cabin’s silence.

It was dark when the door opened again. Only one of them came out now. The man.

He moved wrong. Not injured. Not drunk.
Delayed. Like each limb was receiving instructions a fraction too late. He stopped in the clearing for several seconds. Head angled slightly upward. Mouth parted. There were flies around him. More than there had been before.

He walked toward the road without looking back. The woman never followed out of the cabin.

I returned the next morning to finally check out the place.
The air inside was thick. Metallic. The second room smelled like exposed iron left in rain.

No visible source.

In the third room, near the wall, the floorboards had shifted. Something beneath them bulged upward. The wood wasn’t broken exactly. Just softened. Bowed. Flies gathered there. Not scattered. Gathered.

I thought I heard something under the boards. A layered sound. Not quite movement. Not quite breathing. I did not attempt to lift the wood.

At this point I just left.

On the drive back through town, I noticed a man near the road who had been sitting in the diner the previous day.

He stood too still.

When he turned his head to watch my car pass, the motion came in stages.
First the shoulders. Then the neck. Then the eyes. Not together. Not naturally. I did not stop.

I will not return

[Done reading notebook]

[Pause]

Huh.

[pause]

Outskirt Settlement. Northbound Route.

[pause]

I'm close enough.

[Cut]

Found it on the map this morning. Closer than I expected.

[pause]

The town doesn't have much of a name. Just shows up as a dot.

[End of recording]

___

If its wanted I can start posting an ARG that im working on here. I already have somewhere else I post stories for it, but if its wanted or people are interested let me know and I'll post here as well.

And if anyone is interested in checking out whats posted so far before I start here: CUSTODIANSHIP

Stopped for the night. Small motell on the roadside.

[pause]

I don't do that enough. There's something about the road that makes stopping feel wrong, like it keeps going without you. Doesn't make sense but.

[pause]

There's a diner attached which is good enough for me right now.

[cut]

Morning. Coffee is better. Told you.

There's a man in the booth by the window who has been staring at his cup since I sat down. Hasn't touched it. Just, staring at it. Which... okay man. You do that.

[pause]

Found something tucked under the napkin holder though. Newspaper clipping. Old one. And there's something folded inside it, like a separate piece of paper. Older feeling than the clipping.

Looks interesting. I'm going to read the clipping first.

[pause]

Partial header. Something Gazette. No date I can make out.

[clears throat]

WHAT STANDS IN HARROW FIELD and why nobody will talk about it

By Staff Reporter

Three miles east of town on the old Harrow road there is a structure that has stood in the middle of a working field for longer than anyone currently living can account for. It is not on any municipal record. It does not appear in the county land registry under any classification. It has no listed owner. And yet there it stands. Low, concrete, roughly the dimensions of a garden shed, and has stood, by most accounts, for well over a century.

What makes this more than a curiosity is the response you get when you ask about it.

I spent two weeks speaking to residents of varying ages and backgrounds about the structure. The responses fell into three categories. The first and most common was a blank look followed by a subject change so smooth it took me several conversations to notice it was happening. The second was a brief acknowledgment that yes, the thing exists, followed by a firm indication that they had nothing further to say. The third, rarer, was a longer conversation held quietly, usually after I'd been speaking to someone for a while about other things, as though they needed to establish trust before they'd let themselves remember it.

Those longer conversations produced the following:

The structure has an opening on its eastern face. Most people who have entered report that the interior feels wrong in ways they struggle to articulate. Measurements taken by two separate individuals on separate occasions did not match each other or the exterior dimensions. There is an object at the interior's center that appears to be part of the concrete itself, grown into it or poured around it depending on who you ask. Nobody has successfully removed or examined it. One former resident, who asked not to be named, told me she went in as a child on a dare and came out feeling like something had followed her home. She moved away three years later. She said it had nothing to do with the structure.

She said it three times.

The agricultural purpose of the structure, if it had one, has been lost. The structure sits in the middle of the land like a sentence nobody finished.

[pause]

Great. Mysterious concrete shed. Very normal. Love that for the area.

[sound of older paper unfolding]

Handwritten originally I think. Someone typed it up but the spacing is all off. Like they were copying from something physical and trying to get the line breaks right.

What follows is a telling as close to the original as memory allows. It was told to me by my grandmother who had it from hers. I do not know how far back it goes before that.

In the time when this land was worked by hand there was a thing made to help with the working. What kind of thing is not agreed upon. Some tellings say it moved. Some say it only worked when spoken to. Some say it did not do anything you could see but that the work went better when it was present. The land responded to it the way land responds to rain. Not because it was asked to but because that is what land does when the right thing is present.

It was kept in a structure built for it. Fed, some say, though what it ate is not remembered. Spoken to, most agree. It was not alive in the way we are alive but it was not not alive either and the people who worked alongside it seemed to understand the difference without needing to explain it.

When the working changed and the thing was no longer needed the people who remained did not know what to do with it. Taking it apart did not seem right. Moving it did not work, or so the telling goes, though the details of why are lost. So they left it.

They left it in its structure with the door open at first. Then closed.

Then they forgot to open it again.

[long pause]

Okay so I don't really see what's so special about it but like. Old tales, a reporter who who spent that much time on it, an unknown purpose.
That's... that's something isn't it.

[pause]

Harrow road. Three miles east.

[pause]

I'm going to finish my eggs first.

[pause]

The man by the window still hasn't touched his coffee.

[cut]

Okay so I found a parking lot not too far back. It's... yeah this is the place.

The field rises slowly. It almost looks flat at a distance but I think it's just a really long hill. Yeah, pretty sure that just keeps going up very slowly.

Definitely a hill.

There's a dirt path through the wheat which is good. Dont wanna traverse through endless wheat again.

[pause]

I can just about see the structure from here. Just. sitting there.

[cut]

There's stuff in the wheat.

Old machinery. Like. rusted out, half buried, been here longer than anyone has cared about it. That one on the left is a plough I think. Or was. And something on the right that might have been a thresher at some point.

[small laugh]

Okay this genuinely looks like a horror movie set. Like someone spent a lot of money on production design out here and forgot to film anything. Kinda spooky if you think about it. What if there are hidden cameras.

[pause]

The structure is more visible now. Low. Concrete. Just. sitting there at the top of the rise.

[cut]

The stuff in the wheat is getting, different.

I passed something back there that I thought was a plough at first but the more I looked at it the less I could figure out what it actually was. The shape was wrong. Old enough that whatever it was built to do isn't there anymore. Like the purpose left first and the object just... stayed.

[pause]

There's something on the left coming up. I'm going to-

[pause]

Yeah I don't. I don't know what that is. I genuinely cannot tell you what that was for. The metal is so old it looks almost soft.

[long pause]

The structure is close enough now that I can see the texture of the concrete. And the opening. It's just a gap in the side. Like a dark rectangle. That would have been a great movie name for this place. Dark rectangle, idk why, but I feel like it just fits.

[cut]

Wheat stops here.

Just open ground between me and it. Short dry grass and then, the structure.

[pause]

The things in the ground here aren't. I don't even know what to call them. Shapes mostly. Like the word tool just doesn't apply anymore.

[long pause]

It's quiet up here.

Like. really quiet.

[quietly]

I could hear the wheat moving on the way up.

[pause]

Okay so I guess I'm going in.

[cut]

It's smaller than I expected. Not a lot. Just enough to notice.
The walls are close in a way that isn't dangerous but that I can't stop being aware of.

Smells old. Not bad. Just like the air has been the same air for a very long time and isn't planning on changing.

[pause]

There's something in the far wall.

I can see it from here. Metal. Or... mostly metal. The concrete has grown around it or been poured around it and the two have become the same thing in places. You can't tell where one ends and the other starts.

But you can see parts of it. Where the concrete is thinner or has cracked away over time. Gears I think. Or something shaped like gears but not quite right. A shaft running through the center of it that curves slightly in a direction that doesn't make sense mechanically. Like it was built to turn or pull something but the logic of how is just... slightly out of reach.
It's like the more I look at it the more I almost understand it and then don't.

[pause]

I'm going to get closer.

[pause]

Yeah the concrete around it is different here. Darker. And there are these... hairline cracks running outward from it. Like the wall has been under pressure for a long time.
But from the inside.

[long pause]

I want to touch it.

[cut]

Okay so I've been in here a while now just... looking at it. Which I didn't mean to do. I meant to look around the whole space but I keep coming back to this wall.

[pause]

There was a sound just now.

Small, like something settling deep in the concrete. Could be anything. Old buildings make noise. It's fine.

[pause]

There it is again.

Different this time. Not settling. More like something catching. Like a gear finding the edge of another gear and not quite... uh, getting a grip... you know.

[long pause]

I'm going to look at the other walls.

[cut]

Okay so.

It happened again while I was looking at the opposite wall and this time I felt it. In the floor. Just a vibration. Low. Like something turning over slowly a long way down.

[pause]

And again.

[pause]

It's getting, more frequent. The sounds. Still small but there's a rhythm starting. Like something is warming up.

[long pause]

The shaft in the wall.

I'm almost sure it's in a different position than when I came in. I can't prove that. I didn't take a photo when I entered. But the angle of it looks... different. Like it's moved a few degrees. Like something turned it.

[pause]

Okay that's...

[cut]

The wall to my left just moved. I think

Not like a lot, just a small shift. There was some sort of low girding sound and then it just... adjusted.

Ok so there is dust coming down from the ceiling now.

The shaft in the far wall is definitely moving. Slowly, but moving. I can see it and the gears around it... or whatever they are... are catching on each other now.
That sound. That catching sound is coming every few seconds and each time something else in the walls moves with it.

[pause]

The opening I came in through...

It's- wait.

[pause]

That's smaller. That's- that's definitely smaller than it was.

[pause]

Okay that's- I can still fit through that. That's still- yeah.

[pause]

...that's not fine. That's really not fine.

Fuck. FUCK. Come on-

[sounds of movement]

Okay there has to be- there has to be another way out somewhere. The article said eastern face which means I came in from the east which means if I just-

[sound of wall shifting, low grinding]

Okay the walls are still- they're still going and the floor just-

[sharp intake of breath]

The floor moved. The floor just- yeah okay the floor moved and that gap is gone. That gap is definitely gone.

Other walls. Other walls-

[sounds of quick movement, hands on concrete]

There's nothing here. Just- solid fucking concrete and something moving behind it, I can feel it moving, what the fuck is moving behind the wall-

[grinding sound, closer]

Okay that's loud. That is way too loud.

[breathing fast, panicked]

Far wall. There's a- low, near the floor, there's a gap and I don't- I don't know if that was always there and I genuinely do not give a shit right now-

It's tight. It's so tight-

[scraping, exertion]

Come on. Come on come on come on-

[grinding, right there, loud]

Something- OW- fuck- my shoulder- something just- COME ON-

[something catching, tearing]

[sharp cry]

[desperate scraping, straining]

[thud]

[pause]

[ragged uneven breathing]

Outside. I'm- I'm outside.

[long pause]

My hands are- they won't stop shaking. When did that- okay.

[pause]

Ow. Yeah. Something's- breathing's a bit- ow.

[pause]

There's blood on my arm. I don't- I have no idea when that happened.

[long pause]

The sounds are still going. Inside. That catching sound. It's faster.

[very long pause]

Thirty seconds. If I was thirty seconds slower I don't think that gap would've been there.

[pause]

I'm just gonna... yeah. Stay here on the grass for a second. That's fine. Completely normal place to be.

[pause]

The sounds are getting faster.

[Recording ends]

COMPILED CASE FILE
SUBJECT: Front for Restoration (FFR)
COMPILED BY: R
MONITORING PERIOD: 1991 - Present
STATUS: ONGOING

// R: This is not the first group of this kind. It will not be the last. What follows is the most complete record I have been able to assemble. Cross-reference: [REDACTED]/DOMAIN/[REDACTED] - GREED/[REDACTED]/[REDACTED]

SECTION ONE - ORIGIN AND EARLY ACTIVITY
1991 - 1995

[Handwritten note - recovered from [REDACTED], [REDACTED] region, Sub-Saharan Africa. Original language: [REDACTED]. Condition: water damaged along left margin, partially illegible.]

We have been patient long enough. What was taken from us was not taken by accident. It was taken because someone looked at what we had and decided they wanted it more than we needed it. We are not asking for charity. We are not asking for recognition. We are asking for what was ours before it was theirs.

There are seven of us. There will be more.

FFR.

// R: First documented reference to the group. Recovered from a location that no longer exists in any recognizable form. The wrong referenced here has been partially documented elsewhere - cross-reference GREED/[REDACTED]/[REDACTED]. Seven founding members. Names not included in the note. Whether this was deliberate is unclear.

[Press clipping - The [REDACTED] Courier, regional publication, [REDACTED]. Clipping incomplete, torn along right edge.]

UNKNOWN GROUP CLAIMS RESPONSIBILITY FOR [REDACTED] INCIDENT

An organization identifying itself as the Front for Restoration claimed responsibility yesterday for the incident at [REDACTED] in which three individuals were hospitalized and significant property damage was sustained. The group, previously unknown to local authorities, delivered a written statement to this office describing the action as "a necessary correction."

The statement read in part: "What cannot be shared will not be kept. We have waited. We will not wait again."

Local authorities have declined to comment on the claim. No arrests have been made in connection with the incident. The [REDACTED] regional administration has not formally acknowledged the existence of the group.

// R: First press documentation of FFR activity. The phrase "what cannot be shared will not be kept" will appear in seven subsequent FFR communications across three decades. Note the framing - not "what was taken will be returned" but "what cannot be shared will not be kept." The goal from the beginning is not acquisition. It is elimination of the gap by eliminating what creates it.

[Typed internal report - source [REDACTED], partial transcript. Several pages missing. Original language: [REDACTED].]

...the group has been active in the [REDACTED] area for approximately eighteen months. Local informants describe a small number of individuals, estimated between six and ten, who have been present at or near several incidents of targeted property destruction. No weapons have been recovered. No formal demands have been issued beyond the initial statement.

What distinguishes this group from conventional criminal or political actors in the region is the apparent absence of strategic motivation. The targets share no obvious political, ethnic, or economic profile beyond a generalized perception of prosperity. When community members were interviewed regarding possible motivations, responses consistently referenced a sense of grievance that informants were unable to articulate beyond describing it as "the way things are" or "what was always going to happen."

One informant, speaking anonymously, stated: "They are not angry at those people specifically. They are angry at the fact of those people. There is a difference."

// R: The informant's distinction is accurate and worth preserving. Anger at the fact of someone else having something. Not the what. Not the who. The fact. This is the domain's mechanism described by someone who has no framework for what they are observing.

SECTION TWO - EXPANSION
1996 - 2002

[Intercepted internal FFR communication. Original language: [REDACTED]. Date: estimated 1996.]

Brothers and sisters -

The work continues. We have made contact with others who understand. Not from our region. Not from our original cause. But they know the feeling. They have felt the same thing we have felt - the weight of watching others have what you cannot have, not because you are less but because the world was arranged against you before you were born.

They are with us now. The original cause remains our foundation. But the foundation is large enough for more than seven.

In restoration -
[REDACTED]

// R: First documented expansion beyond the founding community. The criterion for membership is "they know the feeling" rather than any shared experience of the original wrong. The cause is already functioning as a vehicle for the feeling rather than the other way around. This is how it spreads. Not through recruitment. Through recognition.

[Press clipping - The [REDACTED] Standard, [REDACTED]. Date: 1998. Clipping has handwritten question mark in margin - not R's hand.]

PATTERN OF UNEXPLAINED INCIDENTS CONTINUES IN [REDACTED] REGION

For the third consecutive month, authorities in the [REDACTED] region are reporting incidents of targeted property destruction with no clear motive or perpetrator. What has drawn the attention of regional observers is the apparent selectivity of the targets - in each case, the affected property belonged to individuals or organizations perceived locally as economically successful.

No group has claimed responsibility for the most recent incidents, though sources within the administration have indicated that communications bearing the initials FFR have been recovered at two sites.

When asked what the initials stood for, a source stated they had been told it meant "Front for Restoration" but that nobody had been able to explain what exactly was being restored or to what prior state.

// R: The question is the right one. Nobody in the group can answer it clearly by this point. The original wrong is already beginning to blur at the edges.

[Partial page - appears torn from a longer document. Typed. No header. No date. Original language unknown, already translated.]

...the question of what we want has been raised again and we will answer it again as we have answered it before.

We want what was taken back. But we have come to understand that return is not always possible. What has been absorbed does not come back. The institutions do not disgorge. The ground does not give back what it has taken in.

And so the question must be answered differently.

We want the world to feel what we feel. We want the distance to be shared. If we cannot close it from below, we will close it from above.

That is all. That is enough.

// R: This document has no confirmed date but the language and paper stock suggest early 2000s. "The ground does not give back what it has taken in" - whether the author understood the full implication of this phrase is unclear. Cross-reference: GREED/[REDACTED]/[REDACTED].

[Press clipping - International Observer, [REDACTED] edition. Date: 2001.]

SYMBOL LINKED TO REGIONAL UNREST REMAINS UNIDENTIFIED

Security analysts monitoring patterns of civil unrest across Sub-Saharan Africa have noted the recurring appearance of an unidentified symbol at sites associated with targeted property destruction and civil disruption. The symbol - described as a snake or serpent coiled around a chalice or vessel, with an eye depicted at the center - has been photographed at fourteen separate sites across [REDACTED] countries over the past four years.

No organization has formally claimed the symbol. It does not match any known political, religious, or cultural emblem in the affected regions. Analysts have suggested it may be a spontaneously adopted marker rather than an officially designated insignia, though the consistency of its appearance across geographically disparate sites has raised questions about the degree of coordination involved.

// R: The symbol has been in use internally since at least the founding. This is the first time external observers documented it. The analysts' uncertainty about whether it represents coordination or spontaneous adoption reflects a genuine difficulty - both descriptions are partially accurate. The symbol predates the FFR. I have documentation of it appearing in contexts that have no connection to this group. File status on that documentation: separate.

SECTION THREE - DIFFUSION
2003 - 2010

[Press clipping - The [REDACTED] Tribune, international edition. Date: 2004.]

NGO REPORT FLAGS "CULTURE OF DELIBERATE REGRESSION" IN AFFECTED REGIONS

A report published this week by [REDACTED], an international development organization operating in Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia, has identified a pattern of what it terms "deliberate regression" in several communities across its operational areas. The report describes a gradual erosion of cooperative economic activity driven by what community leaders characterize as a generalized hostility toward visible prosperity.

"We are not dealing with poverty-driven desperation," the report states. "We are dealing with something more targeted. The goal does not appear to be acquisition or redistribution. The goal appears to be reduction."

The report stops short of attributing the pattern to any specific actor or organization. One researcher involved in the study, speaking anonymously, described the phenomenon as "envy at an institutional scale - the systematic dismantling of anything that makes the gap visible."

// R: "Envy at an institutional scale." The researcher arrived at the correct word without the correct framework. The report does not name the FFR. The FFR is no longer nameable in a conventional sense by this point. What the report is documenting is the domain's effect at scale - the FFR providing a loose framework that the domain fills, the idea spreading through human contact alone without requiring any formal organizational infrastructure.

[Intercepted internal FFR communication. Date: estimated 2006. Original language: [REDACTED].]

To those who understand -

We have been told that what we do is destructive. That we tear down without building. That we take without creating.

They are correct.

We have thought about this carefully and we have decided that they are correct and that this is exactly right. We are not here to build. We are not here to create. We are here because we were promised something and then watched someone else receive it. We are here because the world handed everything to those who already had everything and called it merit.

We do not want what they have.

We want them to not have it.

There is a difference. We have made our peace with the difference.

// R: The shift documented here is complete. "We do not want what they have. We want them to not have it." The original cause - restoration of something specific - has been entirely replaced by the equalization drive. Closing the gap from above. This communication was distributed to an estimated 200-300 individuals across at least fifteen countries. None of them share the founding community's original wrong. All of them share the feeling.

[Field observation - R. Date: 2007.]

Photographic documentation of founding member [REDACTED] - IMAGE/FFR/001 (1999) compared to IMAGE/FFR/002 (2007).

Subject is approximately eight years older between photographs. The aging is not consistent with what would be expected across this period. The face has lost definition in a way that is difficult to attribute to age alone. There is a quality around the eyes - a registering of less than eyes typically register - that was not present in 1999.

The hands are partially visible in IMAGE/FFR/002. The skin texture across the knuckles and lower fingers is unusual. I have seen this before. Cross-reference: ENVY/DOMAIN/[REDACTED] - Case 7-1194.

Observation noted. Monitoring continues.

SECTION FOUR - GLOBAL PRESENCE
2011 - 2018

[Press clipping - The [REDACTED] Post, international edition. Date: 2012.]

INVESTIGATORS BAFFLED BY COORDINATED INCIDENTS ACROSS THREE CONTINENTS

Law enforcement agencies in [REDACTED], [REDACTED], and [REDACTED] have independently reported a pattern of incidents sharing notable characteristics - targeted destruction of high-value properties and business infrastructure, absence of theft or conventional criminal motive, and the recurring appearance of an unidentified symbol at incident sites.

What has drawn the attention of international security analysts is not the incidents themselves but the apparent coordination. The incidents occurred within a 72-hour window across sites separated by thousands of miles. No communication infrastructure linking the perpetrators has been identified.

"We cannot explain the timing," one analyst told this publication. "We can identify what happened. We cannot identify how it was organized, because as far as we can determine it wasn't organized. Not in any conventional sense."

The symbol - a snake coiled around a chalice with a central eye - remains unattributed.

// R: The analyst is correct that it was not organized in any conventional sense. The domain coordinates them. They do not need to coordinate themselves.

[Intercepted internal FFR communication. Date: 2014. Original language: [REDACTED].]

Some of the older members have been asked what we are restoring. This question comes up often now. New members want to understand the name.

We tell them: the balance. The balance that existed before the world decided some people were allowed to have things and others were not.

When they press us - what balance, what was it, when did it exist - we find we cannot answer with the precision they want. The older members remember pieces. A place. Something that was in the place. People who are no longer here. But the details have become unclear over time and we have decided this does not matter.

What matters is the feeling. The feeling does not require a specific memory. The feeling is its own justification.

// R: The founding members no longer remember what was taken with any precision. The original cause has been consumed by what it produced. The container is still marked "restoration" but what is inside is no longer that. What is inside is only the feeling, running continuously, with nothing left to attach itself to except the act of seeing the gap.

[Field observation - R. Date: 2015.]

Third photographic documentation of founding member [REDACTED] - IMAGE/FFR/003.

Comparison across three photographs spanning sixteen years. The deterioration since 2007 has continued and accelerated. The hollowing around the orbital region is pronounced. The skin across the visible portions of the hands and lower forearms has the texture I have documented in prolonged domain exposure cases. Cross-reference: ENVY/DOMAIN/[REDACTED] - Case 7-1194 - [REDACTED]/[REDACTED]/LOCATIONS/THRESHOLD subject [REDACTED].

The shape of the fingers in IMAGE/FFR/003 is not entirely consistent with normal skeletal structure.

Subject has been a member of the FFR for approximately twenty-four years.

Subject is still active.

// R: I do not know what they were before that. I am not certain there is enough left to find out.

[Press clipping - Global Security Review, Vol. [REDACTED]. Date: 2017.]

THE SYMBOL WITHOUT A SOURCE: THREE DECADES OF AN UNATTRIBUTED EMBLEM

In the three decades since its first documented appearance, the emblem now associated with a loose network of actors linked to deliberate economic disruption has appeared at incident sites across [REDACTED] countries. It has been photographed on walls, recovered on documents, and reported by witnesses in contexts ranging from civil unrest in Sub-Saharan Africa to property crimes in Western Europe and Southeast Asia.

Despite sustained attention from international security analysts, the symbol remains formally unattributed. No organization has claimed it. No government has designated the network it represents. The closest any official body has come to formal acknowledgment is a footnote in a [REDACTED] security assessment describing "a pattern of incidents potentially linked to a loosely affiliated transnational actor using a serpent-and-vessel emblem."

Analysts continue to debate whether the network represents genuine coordination or a form of convergent behavior - multiple unconnected actors arriving independently at similar methods and similar iconography through similar motivations.

The question has not been resolved.

// R: It will not be resolved through conventional analysis. The convergent behavior assessment is partially correct. The coordination assessment is partially correct. Both miss what connects them.

SECTION FIVE - PRESENT
2019 - Present

[Intercepted internal FFR communication. Date: 2019.]

We are everywhere now.

We do not say this with pride. We say it because it is true and because it means the work is working. Every place that something is built we are there. Every place that something succeeds we are watching. Every place the gap appears - between what some people have and what others do not - we are present.

We do not need to do anything most of the time.

We just need to see it.

Seeing it is enough. Seeing it is everything.

// R: "Seeing it is everything." The eye at the center of their symbol. The root of zavist. It is to see. They have arrived at the domain's core mechanism without understanding that is what they have done. The gap does not need to be closed or acted on. It only needs to be seen. Continuously. The seeing is the feeding. They believe they are sustaining their purpose. They are correct, but not in the way they mean.

[Field observation - R. Date: 2021.]

I attempted to locate founding member [REDACTED] for fourth photographic documentation.

Subject's last confirmed location: [REDACTED], 2019. Current location unknown.

Subject has been a member of the FFR for thirty years.

I have documentation of what thirty years of proximity to this domain does to a person. I did not find the subject. I am not certain I would have recognized them if I had.

// R: File status: ONGOING. The FFR continues. The founding cause has not been remembered by anyone currently active in the group. The original seven are unaccounted for. The symbol appears on six continents.

This is not the first time something like this has existed. It will not be the last.

-R

Still driving. Been at it since the cave. That feeling hasn't fully left yet.

Been thinking about File 4 a lot actually. Marsh. The case number. I spent a few hours at a rest stop yesterday going through public records databases on my laptop and I found it. Case 7-1194. Which led me to the precinct it was filed under. Which led me to the neighborhood. Which led me to the building.

It took maybe three hours of actual looking.

[small laugh]

Three hours.

[cut]

Okay so I'm here now. And I want to be clear that this is just a normal apartment building. Like just completely normal, five stories, brick. The kind of building that exists in every city and that you walk past a hundred times without registering it as anything. There are people coming and going.

A woman with a stroller just held the front door open for me because I was walking in behind her and I smiled and said thank you and she smiled back.

Just a normal building.

The neighbor's apartment is on the third floor. 3B. I found the name in the transfer records. Property has been vacant since the case was closed. Which.

[pause]

I mean that makes getting in easier so.

[cut]

Okay so I'm in the stairwell now. Third floor. Found 3B.

The door is... it's not in great shape. Lock looks old. I have a card in my wallet that I've used before for this kind of thing and.

[sounds of movement, quiet concentration]

[soft click]

There we go.

[pause]

I want to say for the record that the building management really should invest in better locks.

[cut]

Inside now.

And okay. Something is wrong in here.

Not wrong like there's nothing obviously wrong. It's furnished still, mostly at least. Some things left behind when whoever cleared it out decided they weren't worth taking. A chair. Some shelves with a few books still on them. A mug on the kitchen counter that someone just left there.

It's not that. It's something underneath the normal. Like the apartment is missing something it should have. Not an object. More like a quality. The kind of presence a lived-in space has. This place has been empty for a while but it feels emptier than that. Like whatever made it a home got taken out along with the furniture and the tenant and what's left is just walls and air that don't remember what they were for.

I keep looking at things and feeling like they're incomplete. Like I'm only seeing part of them.

[cut]

There's a wall in the living room that I keep coming back to.

I don't know why. It looks the same as the other walls. Same paint. Same nothing. But I've walked past it three times now and each time I end up stopping and looking at it and I can't tell you what I'm looking for. Just something about it.

[pause]

I'm going to press on it.

I know that sounds strange. It just feels like the right thing to do.

[pause]

The wall gives a little. More than it should. Like there's not as much behind it as there ought to be.

[long pause]

There's a seam here. Low down. Almost at the floor. Not a natural seam. Someone made this.

[sounds of movement, something being pried]

Oh.

Oh that's.

[very long pause]

Okay. Okay there's... there's a body in here. Propped up in the cavity behind the wall. Sitting almost, like it was placed there carefully.

That's Marsh isn't it. Has to be.

[pause]

The body is... the chest is intact. Everything else has collapsed inward somehow. Like whatever was inside just isn't anymore. The skin is still there. Holding the shape of a person. But when I got close I could see it moving slightly with my breathing. Like there's nothing behind it to hold it still.

[long pause]

I want to see inside.

[pause]

I know I shouldn't.

[pause]

[quietly]

I'm just going to. Just a little pressure on the chest and.

[sound of something giving way, quiet crack of ribs]

It's hollow. It's completely hollow in there. The ribs gave way so easily. Like they were just decorative. And inside is just... nothing. Empty. Dark.

Except.

[very long pause]

There's a heart.

Just suspended in the middle of all that nothing. Still held up by what looks like... I don't know. Dried tissue maybe. Thin threads of something keeping it in place in the center of this empty chest cavity. Just hanging there in the dark.

[long pause]

I want to take it.

[pause]

That's a strange thing to say out loud. I want to take it. I'm aware of how that sounds. I'm aware that what I'm looking at is a person and that the correct thing to do is to back away and leave and maybe make an anonymous call to someone and drive very far from here.

[pause]

I want it though.

[long pause]

[quietly]

No. No I'm... I'm going to leave it. It stays where it is.

[cut]

Okay. Moving through the rest of the apartment. Kitchen. Counter still has that mug on it.

[pause]

There's a shelf by the window. Something on it. I don't know what it is exactly. Just a small figure. Sitting there like it's been waiting to be noticed.

[pause]

I'm taking it.

I don't know why. It just caught my eye and now I'm putting it in my bag and that's that.

[pause]

Alright. I think I'm done here.

[recording ends]

[recording resumes]

Outside now. Back on the street. The woman with the stroller is gone.

I'm going to find somewhere to eat and then get back on the road.

[pause]

Good find today.

[recording ends]

File 4 Transcript - Recorded Statement Case No. 7-1194 Interviewee: Daniel Marsh Interviewing Officer: Det. Claire Osei Date: [redacted]

___

Osei: For the record, can you state your name and your relationship to the deceased.

Marsh: Daniel Marsh. He was my neighbor. Has been for... I don't know. Eight years maybe. Nine.

Osei: And you've waived your right to have counsel present.

Marsh: I don't need anyone else in here. I just want to explain it. I've been trying to explain it to myself for months and I think if I say it out loud to another person it might finally... Yeah. I just want to explain it.

Osei: Okay. Take your time.

Marsh: It started small. That's the thing I keep coming back to. It started so small that I genuinely cannot tell you the exact moment it began. There wasn't a moment. It was more like, you know how damp gets into a wall? You don't see it happening. You just notice one day that the wall is different than it was.

Osei: What started small.

Marsh: The feeling. About the thing he had.

[pause]

I'm not going to be able to explain what it was. I know that sounds like I'm being evasive but I'm not. I genuinely... It wasn't about what the thing was. That's not, that was never the point of it. It was just something he had. Something that sat in his place the way things sit in a home when someone actually lives there. Just present. His.

And I noticed it.

And after I noticed it I couldn't stop noticing it.

Osei: When did you first see it.

Marsh: I don't remember. That's honest. I don't remember a first time. It's like trying to remember the first time you noticed a sound that you've been hearing for years. You can't find the beginning because by the time you're aware of it it's already been there long enough to feel permanent.

Osei: But something changed at some point.

Marsh: Yes.

[pause]

At some point it stopped being something I noticed and became something I thought about. And then it stopped being something I thought about and became something I thought about constantly. And then...

[pause]

You have to understand that I'm not a person who... I'm not. I've never been in a room like this before. I have a job. I have a life. I'm not someone who.

[pause]

It didn't feel like it was coming from me is what I'm trying to say. The feeling. It felt like something being done to me rather than something I was doing. Like the feeling had its own logic that I was just following. Because what else do you do when something makes that much sense from the inside.

Osei: What did the feeling tell you.

Marsh: That it wasn't fair.

[pause]

That's it really. That's the whole of it. Just that it wasn't fair that he had it and I didn't. Not because I wanted it. I want to be clear about that. I didn't want it. I never wanted it for myself. I just couldn't... the fact of him having it felt like something being done to me personally. Like every day he had it was another day of something I couldn't name but could feel constantly.

I stopped sleeping properly around month four I think. Maybe five. I lost track of time somewhere in there.

Osei: Can you describe your neighbor's behavior during this period.

Marsh: Normal. That's the worst part. He was just normal. Going about his life. He wasn't aware of any of it. He didn't know what was happening to me and he certainly didn't know why. I watched him sometimes and he just looked like a person living their life and I was standing on the other side of it coming apart at the seams and he had no idea.

There were days I was sure he knew. Sure he was doing it deliberately. That the way he went about things was calculated to... I know that wasn't true. I know that now. I knew it then too, somewhere underneath everything. But the feeling was louder than the knowing.

Osei: When did you first think about harming him.

Marsh: I don't know that I ever thought about harming him exactly. That's not quite right. I thought about the thing being gone. About him not having it anymore. Those aren't the same thing but they ended up in the same place eventually.

[long pause]

My hands started looking wrong about two months before. The skin. I noticed it in the mornings first, like something was moving underneath. Not quickly. Slowly. The way you'd see something shift under a bedsheet if something was pushing up from below. The skin would pull tight in places and go slack in others, and the color was doing something I don't have a word for. Not bruising. More like the skin was becoming translucent in patches, and whatever was underneath wasn't the right color for something that should be inside a person.

I told myself it was dry skin. Then something dietary. Then I stopped telling myself anything and just wore long sleeves. I didn't look at them directly after a certain point. When I did, the shape of my fingers wasn't always right, like whatever was happening was working on the structure of them from the inside out.

Looking made it harder to ignore what direction it was going.

Osei: You were aware something was physically wrong with you.

[pause - 3 seconds]

Marsh: I was aware that something was happening to me yes. I connected it to the feeling. Of course I did. Some part of me understood that they were the same thing. That the feeling and what was happening to my hands were continuous. One thing.

It made it feel more urgent.

Osei: Is that why you-

Marsh: Yes.

[pause]

I went over in the evening. He let me in. That's the part I come back to most. That he let me in, like he always did, like I was just the neighbor coming over. He offered me something to drink and I said no and I followed him into the kitchen and he was talking about something, I don't even remember what, and I picked up the closest thing and I hit him with it.

He went down but he didn't go out. I wasn't prepared for that. For how long it takes. For how much a person can absorb. The sounds were wrong, not like anything I had a reference for, wet and dense and too close. He kept saying my name and I kept going and at some point his voice changed, not stopped, changed, like the mechanism producing it was being compromised but hadn't failed yet. He was still looking at me. That was the worst part. Whatever I was doing to him his eyes kept finding mine, not with accusation, just... recognition. Like he was still in there, still noting what was happening, still saying my name with whatever was left of the apparatus for saying things.

By the end my arms were shaking so badly I could barely stand. I sat down on his kitchen floor. I don't know for how long. There was a sound in the room that I eventually realized was me.

The thing was on the counter the whole time. I didn't look at it directly. I could feel it the way you feel a light source in a dark room even with your eyes closed. Present. Constant. The whole reason I was standing in that kitchen.

And then I couldn't feel it anymore.

Just like that. Between one breath and the next. I turned and looked at it properly for the first time and it was just an object. Just something sitting on a counter that had always been just something sitting on a counter. And I was standing in his kitchen with shaking arms and he was on the floor still saying my name and the thing that had made all of that make sense was just.

Nothing. It was just nothing.

My hands looked worse than they ever had. The skin across my knuckles had gone, not torn, gone, like it had decided it was done. What was underneath wasn't muscle. I don't know what it was. I didn't look for long.

I stepped over him to get to the door.

I didn't look down.

He was still saying my name somewhere in my head. He's still saying it now. In here. While I'm talking to you.

[pause - 11 seconds]

I don't think that's going to stop.

Osei: Mr. Marsh, I need to ask you to-

[pause - 4 seconds]

Mr. Marsh.

Marsh: My chest has been feeling strange since yesterday. Since before yesterday actually. The same quality as my hands but deeper. I thought you should know that. I'm not sure it's relevant but it felt like something I should say out loud to another person before...

[pause]

I think I'd like some water please.

[pause]

Actually. No. I think I'm alright.

___

Statement suspended at 14:32 following medical concern raised by interviewee. Interviewee discharged against medical advice at 15:09. Subsequent attempts to locate Daniel Marsh at his registered address were unsuccessful. Address found vacated. Neighboring property also vacated following investigation. Case transferred.

Similar reports on file: Case 3-0871. Case 11-2204. Case 11-2209. Pattern consistent. Transferred per standing directive.

-R

Okay. Morning. I think.

[pause]

The light outside looks exactly the same as when I went to sleep. Like it never got dark. Or never got light. Just... the same.

[pause]

Head's a bit heavy from last night. Nothing bad just... yeah.

The Tender is a decent place actually. Would give it a solid four stars. Minus one for the fact that I genuinely cannot tell if it's seven in the morning or seven at night.

[cut]

Grabbed something to eat. The diner again. Same light in there as well.

[pause]

Same people too, I think. Or it feels like the same people.

Anyway. Cabin.

[cut]

I swear to god that it said something about it being on the edge of town in the forest, with a road as well so it should not be this difficult to find the damn place.

[cut]

Ah, look at this. I think I found a small path leading into the forest, must be somewhere in this way.

[cut]

There's a deer. Or was. Just the bones, still kind of... together. Spine intact. Laid out clean.

[pause]

Huh.

[cut]

I have never seen a tree like that. Though it was a person to begin with.

[pause]

Been there a while by the look of it.

[cut]

Okay. I found it.

[pause]

At least the clearing matches the description. We got the narrow path, suddenly thinning trees, and the cabin... sitting there.

[pause]

Oh. Looks like the door is slightly open.

I- uh. I guess I'll just enter

[cut]

I remember the notebook describing the inside, but... I don't think it mentioned anything like this.

[pause]

There are four statues here.

[footsteps]

Carved. Rough wood.
Look like they are human figures wrapped around each other. Looks almost intimate.

[pause]

Or maybe not...

[pause]

Ugh... yeah. Their hands dig in too deep. And their bodies don't really look fully natural. Faces tilted upwards with open mouths.

Hard to tell if its supposed to be ecstasy or pain.

[long pause]

And there are symbols burned into the walls here. Circular patterns, some overlapping, but still spiraling inward.

Might just be teen agers in the area doing this.

[cut]

[footsteps on wood]

Just entered the second room. Smells metallic. Like rust, but weirdly sweet.

[footsteps, floorboards creaking]

The floorboards in the corner here are darker than the rest... Rain maybe?

[cut]

Okay so I just left the other room into this one and I can instantly feel some sort of vibration going on here. Like quiet and low but I can still feel it.

[pause]

The floorboards over by the wall are bent upward. I feel like I remember the notebook saying something about that. Can't remember if he checked them or not.

[footsteps]

Cant be that bad.

[wooden planks prying and giving way]
[snap, thud]

Damn. It was really stuck there.

Let's see what-

[pause]

Th- there's a body under here.

[pause]

She's- it's a woman. Young. She doesn't look- she's not rotting. That's not- she should be rotting.

[pause]

Her stomach is wrong. There's something pushing out from under the skin. Like a- I don't know. Structure or something. Built in there somehow. Like a honeycomb.

[pause]

And there are insects moving in and out of her.

[long pause]

I'm going to move some of the soil back.

[pause]

That's... that's not soil...

There are bones under here. Small ones. Animal I think. Something with a narrow jaw.

[pause]

And fabric. Denim. A belt buckle.

[very long pause]

There are- those aren't animal bones. That's a ribcage. That's a- everything down here is fused together. Packed into one- I don't even know what's holding it all together. Some kind of resin maybe. Everything compressed into one...

[pause]

She's not the center of this.

[quietly]

She's just another layer.

[cut]

Ok... I think the stain moved. Like, its not in the same spot anymore. Its moved like, up the walls or something.

Oh its, um... I think its pulsing? Like it looks like its breathing.

The fuck is up with this place?

[cut]

I-I think I just heard something. Not the vibration. But like a voice... could not make out whatever it was trying to say.

[pause]

Wait.

There it is again. Its coming from the wall. From the hive room or whatever the fuck you would call it.

[muffled voice] H-he-

No. It can't be the woman, right?
There is no way she would be able to survive for that long under there...
She didn't even have actual lungs to be able to-

[muffled voice] ...help...

SHIT-

[violent scraping across the floorboards]

Its moving. Its moving?

[wood splintering]

[pause]

Oh- Fuuu-

[running footsteps]

No. Nope. Fuck this-

[recording ends]

Its smaller than I expected. Not that it has a lot to say, but its smaller.

There are a good amount of people out here on the sidewalks.

Yeah... all of them are in larger groups and standing real close to one another. Not really my kind of thing, but if that's their culture...

[quiet singing]

Its kind of nice here, welcoming, I suppose...

Yeah I think I'll take a lap here around town to check out the area first. Yeah.

[back to quiet singing]

The Basin.

Looks to be a bath house maybe...

[pause]

[quietly]

I could really go for a bath right now.

[deep sigh of relief]

[back to quiet singing]

Hm... lots of people there. A bar maybe? uh.... The Round. Yeah gotta' be a bar or something.

But they are like hella' close to one another. All are kind of touchy as well...

[Slight hint of fear in her voice]

T-touchy...

[Snaps out of it]

[goes back to quiet singing]

That's a diner. Might be the same one from uh... Michael. Yeah.

I'll park and see if I find anything here. Bar sounds good as well though... Yeah I'll do that after.

[cut]

[low music and chatter in the background]

Staff was nice. Managed to find a decent place to sit a bit more for myself as well. Don't want to disturb the others here with my talking you know.

Not sure what Michael meant by the people her being weird. I mean I get that they are no-

[Male voice] Hey there. Everything good tonight
[Alma] Oh, uh- just whatever's good. Coffee for sure.
[Male voice] You staying long?
[Alma] Just the night probably.
[Male voice] Mhm. We'll see about that.

[footsteps leaving]

[quiet]

He was really close to me, like I don't want to be rude but... Personal space dude...

[cut]

[low music and chatter in the background]

Everyone here seems to be like one big community. I think I even heard someone walk past some people and finish one guys sentence before making his way further.

Food is really good, would give it a five stars, but something about this place tells me its not on any traditional site where I can rate them.

[pause]

Speaking of the food.

[quiet]

Those two are eating from the same plate, does not even seem like they care, or even notice one another.

Ugh... di-did he just bite that other guys hand? Like while holding the same sandwich. H-he's bleeding.

[pause]

Sir! Your hand!

...

Yeah, just making sure. That's all.

[quiet]

Bar sounds good about now.

[cut]

Place looks busier than the diner. Can already hear the music coming from inside the walls.

[pause]

[quiet]

Bouncer by the door. Big guy.

[footsteps]

[Alma, casual] Hey.
[Bouncer, flat] You good?
[Alma] Yeah. Let me just get my...
[pause]
[Alma] Here you go.
[Bouncer] Go ahead.

[cut]

[loud music, crowd noise, close to recorder]

Okay this place is-

[music swallows the rest]

[cut]

[laughing, slightly too loud]

No but like- did you see that? With the- yeah okay. Okay.

[cut]

-no I'm just passing through actually, yeah just the one night-

[cut]

There's uh. Fire. Someone's got- they're doing something with fire over there.

[long pause]

[someone laughs loudly nearby, music swells]

That's cool actually. That's really cool.

[cut]

The drinks are so... I don't even know what's in this.

[cut]

[Male voice] -been here my whole life so-

[laughing]

[Alma] yeah that tracks actually-

[cut]

[recorder clicks on, just music and crowd, runs for a few seconds]

[cut]

No- no. I cant take more. I mean I want to, but I have somewh-

[chittering, wet - one throat, then another, then the room]

[pause]

What the fuck was that?

[cut]

Okay I should. I should find somewhere to uh, to, yeah...

[pause]

Excuse me- hey, sorry, do you know anywhere I can stay the night?

[Female voice, warm] The Tender. Just down the road.

[Alma] The Tender. Okay... yeah.

[pause]

[quietly, almost to herself]

The Tender.

[recording ends]

I wasn't planning on recording today.
I mean, I never really plan these... I just gets quiet. Like when it feels like the radio is just playing the same five songs on repeat before loosing signal again.

Anyways.

I found something a few days back. Some sort of small notebook in my hotel room. So like normal I stashed it and now is probably a good time to read it.

I mean I got nothing else better to do. And maybe its interesting enough to check out.

[Cut]

Ok so I'm stopped now.

So looks like there is a tile here one the first page. "Cabin"

Time of entry, 1964.
Location, Outskirt Settlement, Northbound Route

And the owner of this book is named Michael.

Here we go.

[Reading notebook]

I wasn’t looking for the cabin.

I took the northbound road because I was tired of the highway. There was a turnoff I didn’t recognize. No sign, just a break in the trees. I followed it longer than I meant to.

That’s how I found the place.

Someone at the diner mentioned an old cabin deeper in the woods. Said it like it was nothing. Like everyone knew it was there.

I don’t know why I decided to see it.

The road narrows after the last house. Gravel gives up halfway in. You have to drive slow.

The cabin sits in a clearing that feels recently disturbed. No obvious tracks. Just the sense that the ground has been walked on more than it should be.

It’s small and weathered. One window cracked. Porch sagging but not collapsed. It felt occupied. But not lived in.
I didn’t go inside at first.

That’s when the car arrived.

Two young adults. Early twenties, maybe. Laughing like they were trying to outrun something heavier than humor.

They didn’t see me in the trees. They went in together.
I should have left then, but I didn’t.
I stayed long enough to hear the shift in the cabin’s silence.

It was dark when the door opened again. Only one of them came out now. The man.

He moved wrong. Not injured. Not drunk.
Delayed. Like each limb was receiving instructions a fraction too late. He stopped in the clearing for several seconds. Head angled slightly upward. Mouth parted. There were flies around him. More than there had been before.

He walked toward the road without looking back. The woman never followed out of the cabin.

I returned the next morning to finally check out the place.
The air inside was thick. Metallic. The second room smelled like exposed iron left in rain.

No visible source.

In the third room, near the wall, the floorboards had shifted. Something beneath them bulged upward. The wood wasn’t broken exactly. Just softened. Bowed. Flies gathered there. Not scattered. Gathered.

I thought I heard something under the boards. A layered sound. Not quite movement. Not quite breathing. I did not attempt to lift the wood.

At this point I just left.

On the drive back through town, I noticed a man near the road who had been sitting in the diner the previous day.

He stood too still.

When he turned his head to watch my car pass, the motion came in stages.
First the shoulders. Then the neck. Then the eyes. Not together. Not naturally. I did not stop.

I will not return

[Done reading notebook]

[Pause]

Huh.

[pause]

Outskirt Settlement. Northbound Route.

[pause]

I'm close enough.

[Cut]

Found it on the map this morning. Closer than I expected.

[pause]

The town doesn't have much of a name. Just shows up as a dot.

[End of recording]

[All current stories]

___

File 6

Harwick Psychiatric Facility Patient Case File - 635 Admitting Physician: Dr. E. Voss

___

Initial Assessment - Admission

Patient 635. Male. Age 23. Admitted by family order following a prolonged period of what the family describes as withdrawal, disinterest, and failure to maintain basic household and professional obligations. Patient presents as cooperative but largely unresponsive to direct questioning. Affect flat. Eye contact minimal. No outward signs of agitation or aggression.

Family reports a gradual onset over approximately eighteen months. No precipitating event identified. Patient does not speak of distress. Patient does not speak of much at all.

Diagnosis: Constitutional melancholia, moderate to severe.

Treatment plan: Structured routine, supervised activity, pharmacological intervention to begin at standard dosage. Prognosis cautiously optimistic. Patient is young and otherwise physically healthy. There is no reason this should not respond to treatment.

___

Observation - Week 3

Patient 635 continues to present with flat affect and minimal verbal engagement. Has complied with all scheduled activities without resistance. Staff note that compliance is total but quality of engagement is absent.

Medication increased to moderate dosage following insufficient response at standard level. Will monitor.

Patient eats well. This is noted as a positive indicator.

___

Observation - Week 7

Medication at high dosage now. Some reduction in the deepest presentations of melancholia, patient is no longer observed sitting motionless for extended periods. However the affect remains flat and verbal engagement has not improved.

An unexpected development. Patient's appetite has increased significantly. Kitchen staff have flagged this twice now. Patient consumes meals completely and has been found in the kitchen corridor on two occasions outside of scheduled meal times. When redirected patient complies without protest.

This is not unusual in patients responding to pharmacological treatment. Appetite returning is generally a positive sign.

Noted for monitoring.

___

Observation - Week 11

The appetite has become a concern.

Patient 635 now consumes substantially more than any other patient on the ward. Kitchen staff have raised the matter formally. Patient has been found outside scheduled meal times on six further occasions. On three of those occasions patient had consumed food intended for other patients.

More troubling is the quality of the consumption. Patient does not eat with pleasure. There is no satisfaction visible in the act. Patient eats with the same flat affect that characterizes all other behavior. As if eating is not an enjoyment but a compulsion. As if the body is demanding something the patient cannot feel receiving.

Mandatory supervision during meal times implemented. Patient complied without response.

Affect remains flat. Verbal engagement remains minimal.

Increasing structured physical activity in the hope of redirecting.

Cold immersion therapy has also been introduced at twice weekly intervals. Patient tolerates the procedure without distress. Patient tolerates most things without distress. This remains the central clinical challenge.

___

Treatment Note - Month 4

Forced activity regimen implemented following continued failure of pharmacological approach. Patient participates in all scheduled activities including extended cold immersion, prolonged supervised waking periods, and dietary restriction protocols designed to normalize the appetite response. Compliance remains total. Quality of participation remains absent.

The dietary restriction has produced the opposite of the intended effect. Patient 635 is now consuming faster than before. What was compulsive has become something more urgent. Staff have begun restraining the patient during meals to maintain appropriate consumption limits. The patient does not resist restraint. The patient does not resist anything.

The appetite has not reduced. It has intensified.

___

Treatment Note - Month 6

Following consultation a new approach has been implemented.

The reasoning is sound. If the patient cannot access positive affect through medication or activity, the remaining option is to reduce negative affect to the point where the patient can begin to rebuild from a neutral baseline. Complete emotional reduction. A clearing of the ground before reconstruction.

The procedures are uncomfortable to describe in detail. They are within the bounds of accepted practice for cases of this severity and duration. The patient has not objected. The patient does not object to anything.

The emotional reduction procedures include but are not limited to: prolonged isolation in reduced sensory conditions, pharmacological suppression at doses exceeding standard therapeutic range, physical interventions designed to interrupt habitual emotional response patterns. These are not undertaken lightly. They are undertaken because the alternative is a patient who cannot function and a treatment record that shows no progress after six months.

The patient has lost considerable weight despite the appetite. Whatever is being consumed it is not sustaining the body in the expected way.

I will note that the smile procedure, while producing the desired physical result, has produced an effect I did not anticipate. The face now holds the configuration of contentment. The eyes do not participate. The effect is not one I intend to describe further in this document.

Patient has been moved to a private room for this phase of treatment. Interaction with other patients temporarily suspended.

___

Observation - Month 7

Something is wrong.

I am writing this at the end of a long day and I want to note formally that something is wrong with Patient 635 and I am not certain any longer that treatment is the correct framework for what I am observing.

The patient consumes. That is the only word that applies now. Food when it is provided. The attention of anyone who enters the room. The air of the room itself seems different after time spent in Patient 635's presence. Staff are reporting fatigue following contact. One nurse has not returned to work following a supervised meal session last Tuesday. I have been told she is unwell.

The eyes are the worst of it. The mouth holds its configuration. The eyes watch everything with a quality I cannot name. Not hunger exactly. Hunger implies want. This is something prior to want. Something that has forgotten the difference between wanting and having because the distance between the two has ceased to exist.

I have requested the patient be moved to the lower ward pending further assessment.

Request approved.

___

Transfer Record - Lower Ward, Basement Level

Patient 635 transferred to isolation unit, basement level, room B-9.

Transfer conducted without incident. Patient ambulatory, cooperative. No sedation required.

Room B-9 provisioned for extended stay. Meals to be delivered through the door slot. Direct contact with patient suspended until further protocols established.

I will continue to observe through the door window.

I will not be entering the room again.

___

Final Administrative Note

This file is being updated following the resignation and subsequent hospitalization of Dr. E. Voss.

Dr. Voss's caseload has been redistributed. Patient 635 remains in room B-9, lower ward. Meals continue to be delivered as scheduled. Patient presents no management difficulties provided direct contact is avoided.

A replacement physician has been assigned to review the case. Full briefing to be conducted prior to any direct contact with the patient.

Staff assigned to lower ward meal delivery are reminded that direct eye contact with Patient 635 through the door window is discouraged.

This is a standing instruction.

It has been standing for some time.

- Administrator, Harwick Psychiatric Facility

____

File recovered from Harwick Psychiatric Facility following closure of the institution in [REDACTED]. Patient 635 not among those transferred to successor facilities. Current location of patient unknown. File transferred to collection.

- R

[All current stories]
___

[driving, faint music]

God this road goes on forever. Like foreeeverrrr. Think I have been looking at those mountains for two hours and they have not gotten any closer. Not even a little. I think they might be painted on.

[pause]

Oh there's a cow.

[pause]

There's a lot of cows actually. That's... yeah that's a lot of cows.

[faint singing along to something for a moment]

[cut]

Okay so there is a gas station coming up and I cannot tell if it's open or if it just looks open. The lights are on but... you know. Sometimes lights are just on.

[pause]

It's open.

There's a guy.
Hi guy.

[cut]

The billboard back there said "JESUS SAVES" and someone had spray painted "BUT L.T. SCORES" underneath it and honestly... that's the funniest thing I've seen all week.
Whoever you are. Good work.

[cut]

Okay so I have been behind this truck for. a while now. It has a bumper sticker that says "HONK IF YOU LOVE PEACE AND QUIET" which is... I mean. That's pretty good actually.

[pause]

There's a sign for a town called Dry Creek which... yeah. I believe that... I fully believe that.

[pause]

Oh and another one. Millhaven. Population 340.
I always wonder about those signs. Like who counted? Was it a proud moment? Is there someone whose job it is to update it when someone dies or has a baby?

[cut]

Getting kind of hungry actually. Should probably find somewhere to stop soon.

[pause]

There's a smell coming through the vents that I cannot identify and I'm choosing not to think about it.

[faint singing]

[pause]

Sign back there said something about a town coming up. Didn't catch the name. Few miles maybe.

[long pause]

Could stop there. Get something to eat. See if it's worth a night.

[cut]

[car slowing, gravel under tires]

Okay so there's a town.

[pause]

There's a sign but I... yeah I can't make that out. Starts with an H maybe? The paint is just gone. Hm...
Well I'm not here to nitpick.

[pause]

It's... small. Like really small. One main street kind of small. There is a few cars parked along it so not a ghost town I hope...

[slow driving sounds]

Place just feels dead.
Oh.
Its like those towns where everyone was born here and never left or had kids of their own. If that makes sense.

[pause]

There's a guy sitting outside what I think is a hardware store. Just sitting.

So its not fully dead at least, there are people here.

[long pause]

Okay there's a diner. I'm going to park and get something to eat and see what this place is about.

[cut]

Recording 39. Location... I don't know yet. Town off the main road. Sign was unreadable.

[pause]

Something about this place.

[pause]

Just feels dead.

[cut]

Oh good it's actually open.

[pause]

[worker approaching]

Worker: What can I get you.

Uh. Coffee first. And whatever's good.

Worker: Burger's good.

Burger's good then. Thanks.

[footsteps walking away]

[quietly to recorder]

There's incense burning somewhere. Smells sweet. Like really sweet.

[pause]

Couple in the booth across haven't said a word to each other since I sat down. Just eating.

[cut]

Excuse me. Is there somewhere to stay around here? Like a guesthouse or something?

[pause]

Worker: Third on the left.

Oh great. Thanks. Do I just... knock or-

Worker: Third on the left.

[long pause]

...Okay. Thank you.

[cut]

[footsteps on gravel, a door]

Okay so. Third on the left.

[pause]

It's... fine. Looks fine. Old but fine. There's a porch and the light is on so.

[knock on door]

[pause]

[door opening]

Oh. Hi. Is this the guesthouse?

Boy: Yeah.

Okay great. The woman at the diner said you might have a room?

Boy: Yeah.

[pause]

Just. come in?

Boy: Yeah.

[footsteps inside]

[quietly]

He looks... young. Like really young to be running a guesthouse.

[cut]

[footsteps, older man's voice from somewhere further in the house]

Older man: Someone staying.

Boy: Yeah.

[long pause, footsteps approaching]

[quietly to recorder]

He's old. Like. really old. I don't know how to explain the gap between them.

[pause]

He doesn't look like he could be this kid's dad. But maybe grandfather.

[pause]

Older man: Room's upstairs. Twenty a night.

That works. Thank you.

[pause]

Older man: Breakfast at eight.

[footsteps retreating]

[long pause]

[quietly]

Okay.

[cut]

[footsteps on stairs, door opening, bag dropped]

Okay so the room is. fine. Bed, window, small table. Clean enough. Smells like that incense from the diner which... is it everywhere in this town or did it follow me here?

[pause]

Can see the main street from here. The hardware store guy is gone now.

[pause]

I think I'll just take a walk around town and see whats here.

[cut]

[footsteps on gravel]

Okay so I'm walking around and it's... quiet. Its the middle of the day as well.

There is a guy over there sweeping his porch... if it can even be counted as sweeping at that pace.

[pause]

There are these sculptures along the street. Small ones. Stone mostly. Rough. Not decorative exactly.
Like they probably mean something but I don't know what.

[long pause]

Found some texts carved into some of the walls. Low down, near the ground.
Almost as if people dont want them to be noticed. OoOoO spoOoOky.

[cut]

It's that incense smell again. Coming from somewhere down the street.

[cut]

[quieter, slower footsteps]

I've been walking for a while and I keep almost stopping. Like my legs are not tired, but just want to stop.

[pause]

Probably just tired from the drive.

[cut]

[footsteps stopping suddenly]

What the-

[pause]

The fuck was that thing...
I must be seeing shit cos I swear to god I just saw a tall bird person, I dont know how to describe it.

Oh- Almost like a wendigo, but more bird like...

[long pause]

...Yeah okay.

[quietly]

I'm going to head back. I really need some sleep.

[cut]

[door opening, footsteps]

Okay. Bed. Yes.

[pause]

That incense smell is still here. Coming through the window maybe.

[pause]

[quietly]

I keep thinking about that thing in the alley.

[long pause]

...Probably nothing.

[cut]

Good morning... to uh... me?

[pause]

I slept way longer than I meant to...

[pause]

Like a lot longer. I don't even know what time it is.

[pause]

Breakfast is probably gone. Whatever.

[cut]

The boy is just sitting at the kitchen table. Not eating. Not doing anything. Just sitting.

[pause]

Morning.

Boy: ...Morning.

[long pause]

Is there still breakfast or...?

Boy: There's bread.

...Cool. Thanks.

[cut]

Okay so I'm out again and I want to. I had a whole plan this morning. Was going to check out the other end of town, maybe find out more about those sculptures.

[pause]

But like... is that really necessary though.

[pause]

I mean I could just... sit for a bit. The porch at the guesthouse was fine. Nice even.

[long pause]

No. No I'm going. I came here for a reason.

[cut]

[footsteps, slower pace]

The sculptures are everywhere once you start actually looking.

On windowsills, doorsteps, tucked into gaps in walls. All the same rough style. All facing the same direction.

[pause]

Which direction is that even?

[pause]

...That's east I think. They're all facing east.

[long pause]

And the texts on the walls. Some of them I can make out now. Bits of them anyway.

[quietly]

Do not build higher than thy need.

[pause]

Huh.

[long pause]

That's. where have I heard that.

[cut]

[slower footsteps, longer pauses between words]

I've been out here for. I don't know how long actually. Lost track.

[pause]

It's nice though. The town is. once you get used to it it's actually pretty.

[pause]

Maybe I'll stay another night. One more night wouldn't hurt.

[pause]

...

[pause]

Wait.

[pause]

No. No I know that feeling. That's not... that's not me thinking that.

[long pause]

Okay I need to keep moving. I need to find something and then I need to go.

[cut]

[footsteps, more purposeful now]

The sculptures. The texts on the walls. That smell everywhere.

[pause]

Do not build higher than thy need.

[pause]

Oh.

[long pause]

Oh no.

[cut]

[footsteps, exploring, slower]

Oh.

[pause]

There's a theatre here. Like a proper old one. Small but... yeah that's definitely a theatre. The marquee is still up, half the letters are gone.

[pause]

Door's open.

[pause]

I mean. It's open.

[cut]

[footsteps inside, echoey]

Smells like... dust and that incense. Even in here.

[pause]

It's dark but there's light somewhere further in. Through the auditorium doors I think.

[pause]

I'm going to just... peek.

[sound of door opening slowly]

Oh shit-

[long silence]

[very quietly]

It's in here.

[pause]

It's... in the middle of the room. Just... standing there.
It's doing something. Moving in a fucked up way. I don't know how to describe it. Like it has a pattern. Like it knows exactly what it's doing and has always known.

[pause]

The hands.

[quietly]

God the hands.

[very long pause]

[barely a whisper]

It's looking at me.

[pause]

It hasn't moved but it's looking at me and I can feel it from here and I need to-

[sound of door, fast footsteps]

[cut]

[fast footsteps outside, breathing harder]

I need to go. I need to pack my stuff and and get the fuck out.

[cut]

[footsteps on stairs, bag unzipping]

Okay. Clothes. Recorder. Laptop. Just... get everything and go.

[pause]

[slower now]

I mean...

[pause]

...It didn't... it didn't do anything to me. It just looked at me.

[pause]

And it's not like I have anywhere I need to be tonight specifically...

[long pause]

[very quietly]

No.
No stop that.

[pause]

Come on. Bag. Car. Go.

[sound of bag zipping, footsteps toward door]

[pause]

[footsteps stopping]

[long silence]

Why am I... why does leaving feel like... why does it feel like the wrong thing to do right now?

[pause]

Might just sit down for a sec... its a long drive and I will need energy for... i... t...

[very long pause]

[quietly]

No.

[pause]

No I'm not. I'm not sitting down.

[long pause]

[something shifts in her voice. quieter. more internal. like she's talking to herself not the recorder]

I have somewhere to be. I have always had somewhere to be. That's why I'm out here. That's the whole- that's the whole point of it.

[pause]

[barely audible]

I'm not done yet.

[pause]

[footsteps. deliberate. toward the door]

[cut]

[car door, engine starting]

[long breath]

Okay.

[pause]

I'm driving now... I think...
Am I dreaming?
No. I'm definitely driving. Focus.

[pause]

I'm not looking back.

[long pause]

[quietly]

I'm not looking back.

[recording ends]

____

[All current stories]

___

Recording 43 Location: HARROW Engagement Museum

Hell yeah. I think I just figured it out.

After so many hours of looking at old war museums online I think I found a small local museum a few towns over that to my knowledge fits perfectly with the file

[pause]

Though it says it's a far ride. Like not long in skyline but there are so many turns and hills along the way.

[pause]

Well. At least the road won't be boring in the falling asleep sense.

Cya there.

[cut]

Okay so I think I'm at the right spot. I'm about to pull in about now. Looks like there is a school bus here in the parking lot as well.

[pause]

Kids are not the worst but I would not say that they are the most pleasant to be around when in larger groups.

[pause]

Place is named... I can't quite make it out from here. There is a poster by the entrance though. I'll head out and check it out.

[cut]

It says "Site of the HARROW Engagement. 1944."

[pause]

Yup. This is the place.

[pause]

Maybe I should have ordered tickets beforehand?
Eh.
It probably doesn't matter.

[ringbell]

Male voice: Hi, welcome.
Hey!

[cut]

Okay it's actually kind of nice in here.

[pause]

Like. small but someone clearly cares about this place. The displays are. neat. Proper neat. Not just stuff thrown in a case, someone thought about where everything goes.

[pause]

There's a gift shop though which I was not expecting.

[pause]

They're selling postcards. Of a battlefield. Someone thought that was a good idea and I kind of respect that honestly. Very bold merchandising choice.

[pause]

Oh and mugs. There are mugs.

[cut]

Okay so there's a big map right by the entrance.

[pause]

That's... a lot of red marks in a very small area. Like a lot a lot.

[pause]

There are photos next to it. Black and white. Some of the guys are looking at the camera, some aren't. The ones not looking are always more interesting.

[cut]

Oh there's a display case over here. Looks like personal belongings. A watch, some letters, someone's lighter.

[pause]

Note next to the lighter says it was found on the field after. No name. Just found there.

[long pause]

Hm.

[cut]

Moving on. There's a whole section about the lead up to it. Troop movements and supply lines and all that.

[pause]

[quietly]

The school group is all over this part. Teacher's doing okay actually. One kid in the back is absolutely checked out but honestly same.

[pause]

Oh and they have some of the actual- wait.

[pause]

[quietly]

...What was that?

Di-did the recorder catch that?

Does not look like anyone else here noticed it...

[long pause]

[cut]

Oh there are some of the actual weapons here. Behind glass obviously. Rifles, a couple of pistols. And a bayonet.

[pause]

That's... that's a bayonet that has seen some use.

[cut]

There's a uniform display over here. Full kit. Just standing there like the person who wore it could walk back in at any moment.

[pause]

Weird feeling that gives you.

[cut]

More maps. These ones showing the actual engagement. Hour by hour almost. You can see where things went wrong.

[pause]

And where they went very wrong...

[cut]

Letters section. Some of them are framed, some are just... under glass. Handwritten. Some of them look like the person was in a hurry when they wrote it.

[pause]

Some of them look like they knew...

[cut]

There's a whole case over here of nameplates and dog tags and things recovered from the field over the years. Still finding them apparently. Note says the last one was found in 2013.

[pause]

2013

[long pause]

That's not that long ago.

[cut]

Okay so. That photo over there.

The one on the far left of the board. I keep coming back to it.

[pause]

There's something in the background of it that I can't...

You know what It's probably just light exposure or something. Old cameras do weird things.

[pause]

It's probably nothing.

[cut]

[quietly]

There it is again.

[pause]

The voice. Same as before. Can't make out what it's saying...

[pause]

Nobody around me is talking.

[long pause]

The kids have moved to the other room....

This thing has to have picked up at least some of it.

[cut]

I keep finding myself back at the bayonet case.

[pause]

I've walked past it three times now and each time I just... stop. And look at it.

Like yeah it looks cool and whatnot I guess, but... I dont know.

[pause]

[cut]

Okay so I asked about going out to the field.

[pause]

Apparently that's not just a thing you can do. You need to book ahead, there's a guided tour, health and safety, all that.

[pause]

Which... I get it. I do.

[pause]

But.

[pause]

The guy at the desk said the earliest he could get me in is in a few days and I am not waiting that long out here.

[pause]

So... um...

[pause]

I noticed the fence line when I pulled in. And I noticed that it gets dark here around eight.

[pause]

I'll come back then.

[cut]

Okay so. It's... almost eight. And I can see the fence from my car here.

[pause]

I've been sitting here for a while now and I keep thinking about the museum.

[pause]

I kept seeing it. Like... flashes. And the sounds. I think they were... calls? Like the ones from-

[pause]

I don't know. I might just be acting weird but I can swear to god that I saw them.

[pause]

Reaching.

[pause]

Singing.

[long pause]

...

[pause]

Okay. It's dark enough.

[cut]

Okay. Gap in the fence is right where I thought it was.

[pause]

Going in.

[cut]

It's... bigger than it looked from the window.

[pause]

The ground is uneven. Like... really uneven. Dips and rises everywhere.
Its overgrown but I can still feel the history it feels like its trying to hide.

[cut]

There are trenches still. Old ones. Half collapsed but still there.

[pause]

It's quiet out here. Really quiet.

[cut]

[quietly]

Okay I can hear something.

[pause]

Like... voices. But not... not regular voices. More like they're coming from the ground.

[pause]

Or the air... I can't tell which direction.

[long pause]

I think I'm going to keep walking.

[footsteps continuing]

[cut]

Oh, look I think thats a-

No-
what-

[pause]

[heavy breathing]

Where did that-
I just saw-

[pause]

[quietly]

Is that the barn.

[pause]

No. No that's not. That's not-

[cut]

No no no no-

[pause]

Shut up.

SHUT UP.

[pause]

I know what you're doing. I know what this is.

[pause]

[voice breaking slightly]

That's not- you don't get to- that wasn't-

[long pause]
[sobbing]

It wasn't my fault.

[pause]

[louder]

It wasn't my fault.

[pause]

Get off of him. GET OFF OF HIM.

[pause]

I'm not giving it to you. I never- I didn't-

[pause]

No no no no no-

[sounds of movement, fast, chaotic]

FUCK-

[pause]

[breathing hard]

Fuck.

[long pause]

[very quietly]

Fuck.

[sounds of running for a while]

[static, brief]

[High pitch screech]

[cut]

[very quiet]

I'm still in the field.

[pause]

I don't know how long that was.

[pause]

My hands are...

[long pause]

There's something in my hand... eyes-
Ugh.

[pause]

I don't. I don't remember.

[very long pause]

Poor creature...

[quietly, almost to herself]

Okay.

[pause]

Okay.

[footsteps]

[cut]

Back in the car.

[long pause]

[quietly]

I'm not afraid.

[pause]

That's... that should probably bother me more than it does.

[pause]

[engine starting]

[recording ends]

___