Spoilered due to length, possibly not all that scary, definatly not compared to what's on this thread, but good enough for a first post and first try I think.
boo.
The projections don't look good. That's not to say that they ever did, but the more we learn about this thing, the more I want to give up and go home to my family. I take the photo of Jake out of my wallet and smile. If he knew, he would be proud. I tell myself this, hoping that it will be enough to hold onto my sanity until it's all over.
We lost with Ken's team yesterday; the boss gave a speech about how they aren't dead till we see a body but really, it's easier just to let them go. The last time the being deemed to return our fallen, it put them in a bin bag in the fridge in our break room. That was actually the first footage we got of it, from our own security cameras no less. It snaked down the corridor with the bag over its shoulder like some demonic f*****g Santa Claus, turned to the camera, put a finger to its lips and smiled. That's what got me, you know, I could deal with unknowable things from beyond time and space, I can deal with seeing my pieces of my friends spilling out of a bin bag but that smile, that f*****g smile showed me the truth that scares me more than those projections ever will. It is enjoying this.
Thomas is pointing at one of the maps the eggheads have run up for us. He's saying something, but I'm not really listening. It'll be the same old story, sightings are up, disappearances are up and the attacks are getting more and more brazen. A month ago, when this all started, it would be a hiker going missing in the blue mountains or a couple of hoboes being found in pieces. Now though, a busload of kids will just vanish and entire cinemas full of people are being torn apart. The people are scared and we can't keep hiding this forever.
It's funny actually, in a not funny at all sort of way, we've got the funding of a good part of the government behind us, black budgets out the arse. Three weeks ago, we had a full time cleared staff of more than one hundred fifty people, all scary good at what they did. If needs be, we can call the army to any sightings. And we are still losing.
There are just twelve of us left now, me, Thomas, Sarah, June, Li, Ben, Bronwyn, Chris, John, Kevin, Barry and the boss. I want to have their names written down somewhere just in case it takes them and leaves me alone. I want something to remind me that I am not imagining this.
I can't get the footage out of my mind, not just that hallway one, but the five or so others that have followed. It seems that our friend has a photogenic side because every time we lose contact with someone, a tape arrives a few days later, showing, well showing what happened to our friends. When Tim's team went dark, the take was shot from over the beings shoulder, and it showed Tim and his men fire something like a three dozen rounds into it, dragging black gunk behind them as they tore through its skinny chest. It just walked over to them, slow as you please. It killed them, one at a time, very slow. Smiling that f*****g smile the whole time.
I no longer feel any fear. That part of me is dead now, desensitized from hours of sunken eyes and sharp teeth. All I have left now is my anger, impotent as it is. I tried telling myself that it's like the tide or the sunset, a fact of nature, nothing to get mad at, just a puzzle to solve. But then I see my friends bleeding out under that smile and the anger returns. I'm leaving tonight, I think, and it won't take long for it to find me. I don't mind, because really, I just want it to be over, I want to be free of living where so many have died.
I have a gun in my hand, it won't help, but I don't want to go quietly.
If you find this, tell Jake that his daddy did his best, tell him that I tried to stop it, and if he's still alive a week from now, tell him that he should be proud of me.
We lost with Ken's team yesterday; the boss gave a speech about how they aren't dead till we see a body but really, it's easier just to let them go. The last time the being deemed to return our fallen, it put them in a bin bag in the fridge in our break room. That was actually the first footage we got of it, from our own security cameras no less. It snaked down the corridor with the bag over its shoulder like some demonic f*****g Santa Claus, turned to the camera, put a finger to its lips and smiled. That's what got me, you know, I could deal with unknowable things from beyond time and space, I can deal with seeing my pieces of my friends spilling out of a bin bag but that smile, that f*****g smile showed me the truth that scares me more than those projections ever will. It is enjoying this.
Thomas is pointing at one of the maps the eggheads have run up for us. He's saying something, but I'm not really listening. It'll be the same old story, sightings are up, disappearances are up and the attacks are getting more and more brazen. A month ago, when this all started, it would be a hiker going missing in the blue mountains or a couple of hoboes being found in pieces. Now though, a busload of kids will just vanish and entire cinemas full of people are being torn apart. The people are scared and we can't keep hiding this forever.
It's funny actually, in a not funny at all sort of way, we've got the funding of a good part of the government behind us, black budgets out the arse. Three weeks ago, we had a full time cleared staff of more than one hundred fifty people, all scary good at what they did. If needs be, we can call the army to any sightings. And we are still losing.
There are just twelve of us left now, me, Thomas, Sarah, June, Li, Ben, Bronwyn, Chris, John, Kevin, Barry and the boss. I want to have their names written down somewhere just in case it takes them and leaves me alone. I want something to remind me that I am not imagining this.
I can't get the footage out of my mind, not just that hallway one, but the five or so others that have followed. It seems that our friend has a photogenic side because every time we lose contact with someone, a tape arrives a few days later, showing, well showing what happened to our friends. When Tim's team went dark, the take was shot from over the beings shoulder, and it showed Tim and his men fire something like a three dozen rounds into it, dragging black gunk behind them as they tore through its skinny chest. It just walked over to them, slow as you please. It killed them, one at a time, very slow. Smiling that f*****g smile the whole time.
I no longer feel any fear. That part of me is dead now, desensitized from hours of sunken eyes and sharp teeth. All I have left now is my anger, impotent as it is. I tried telling myself that it's like the tide or the sunset, a fact of nature, nothing to get mad at, just a puzzle to solve. But then I see my friends bleeding out under that smile and the anger returns. I'm leaving tonight, I think, and it won't take long for it to find me. I don't mind, because really, I just want it to be over, I want to be free of living where so many have died.
I have a gun in my hand, it won't help, but I don't want to go quietly.
If you find this, tell Jake that his daddy did his best, tell him that I tried to stop it, and if he's still alive a week from now, tell him that he should be proud of me.
