Intermission

Hey. It's Deb. Gittes is passed out right now, and he left his computer unlocked. 

I know he's going to be pissed that I looked, but can you really blame me? When a mysterious man in a trenchcoat, with a beard like a homeless guy, enlists you to help him expose whatever is going on here, you'd want some answers too. 

I suppose you probably want just as many answers too, and I can tell you now that I don't have many. I'll tell you what I know. I know this all seems a bit weird, but I just really need to get this stuff off my chest, and Gittes isn't exactly the most talkative guy.

Hold on. 

Sorry. Somebody passed by the window just now. I think it was just the manager of the hotel. Er, I hope it was. 

I'd give you my full name, but I know that there's probably other people reading this that would go after my family if I did, so we'll stick with Deborah for now. I used to live in Indiana before this, in Gary. It's a total shithole, but it's home. My boyfriend was named Ted. He was cool. Really into movies, filmmaking, that kind of thing. We started dating when we were in high-school, and we would still be dating if he hadn't just disappeared. 

Something started following us about a year ago. Some creature. It was tall, maybe seven feet or so. Big, bulky, with what looked like a deer skull for a head. Bright, white eyes, like flashlights. Huge antlers. I started seeing it after we moved in together. 

I think it marks people. Nobody else I knew had seen it. Just Ted and me. I think he might have been marked before I was, and maybe it spread to me. I'm not sure. All I know is that it started watching us from the woods outside our apartment complex. It was just little things that happened at first. We'd both get headaches around the same time, we'd both start smelling nutmeg in weird places, we both started finding wet footprints outside our door. That really spooked Ted. He started going off about how it had "left him alone for so long". I never got him to explain what he meant. 

Things just went downhill from there. We started fighting more. Ted dropped out of his classes, I started flunking out of mine. That thing started getting more brazen. It would show up outside our bedroom window and just watch us for hours. I didn't say anything, it didn't do anything. It just watched us. For a while, at least. 

Then we started seeing it inside the apartment, and that was when Ted just disappeared. He left in the middle of the night, after he got up to check out some noise outside. We figured it was the thing. He was gone for a long time. Almost thirty minutes or so. Then, he just walked back in, really calm-like, packed some things and just walked right out the door. Not a word out of him the whole time. 

It took me a long time to start looking. He left a voicemail the very next day, saying he was ok and that he was going to Redwood Falls. I had never heard of the place, and it took me almost three days of searching the internet to find anything remotely useful about the town. This blog. Gitte's blog. 

You can call it stalking, but I followed the blog and managed to track him down. I thought that maybe, just maybe, this weird asshole might have answers. I don't think I'm wrong, but I don't think he was the answers I need. This town does, though. I've seen that thing in the woods when I look outside, but not as much here. This place has a strange aura to it. A weird feeling that something's just not quite right. It's hard to describe. 

I don't know. 

Sometimes, I think I really don't want to know. Maybe there are things that I'm better off not knowing. It's the lack of closure about this that keeps me going. I just need to understand why. Why would something do this to people? What's the endgame? Is Ted gone? 

I just don't know anymore.

Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be. 

I'm going to go ahead and post it. Gittes will be pissed, but I need to get this out there. I need to get this off my mind to someone. I just want someone out there to know what's really going on. 

Trailheads

Alright. Update time. I've been looking through some of the stuff we got out of Cole's house, and it's about what I was expecting.

Well, mostly. At least.

He had a printed off map of the world, which piqued my interest, because he'd marked a few specific locations. Markings in Greenland, Russia, the Caribbean, the Containment Zone, and, somehow, Oregon and Washington. I can't help but feel like that's a little ominous.

Then he had a shitload of incoherent notes. Doodles of antlers, spirals and stuff about Kings and Priestesses or whatever. Weird shit, but that's about par for the course lately. The name "Emissary" was mentioned. That name feels vaguely familiar, but I can't quite place it.

Other stuff wasn't nearly as useful. A copy of "The Temple and the Lodge". Conspiracy theory book, of course. Not a terrible read, from what I skimmed, but not really that useful. Found a gas mask too. Might come in handy. One of the notes mentioned the name "Rosenberg". Evidently Virgil isn't totally full of shit, because the note indicated the Rosenberg was the name of someone that get sent up this way by...someone. The name was scratched out, but I could make out something that looked like "Initiative".

Ok, good. I thought this would be a total bust.

So, as far as I can tell, I'm not the only person in this little charade that's come up this way. There's more children than adults. Rosenberg was working for some kind of Initiative, and I'm guessing he's probably dead. Call it a gut feeling. I've yet to see this Church, or this Father Whitewall guy. Anne hasn't come around the motel much, but I heard something scratching at my door last night. Other than that, it's been strangely calm. Not a comfortable kind of calm, though. The kind of calm that happens right before a hurricane.

I'm so tired, guys. Really.

Every time I go outside, I end up peeling back some new layer of insanity here. This town is like a vortex of crazy, and I'm stuck right in the middle. I haven't slept normally in god knows how long. Haven't seen Virgil much either. I just don't know about any of this anymore, guys. I really don't.

I'm going to try and get some sleep. Deb is keeping watch right now.

Lord knows I need it. I've been living on microwave mac n' cheese and soda for three days. If my cholesterol doesn't kill me, sleep deprivation will.

Cole

I took a few hours, but we found Cole's house. He lived out at the edge of town, on a street that was literally about a mile from the motel, because of course it fucking was. We had to ask around a bit, and I have half a mind to think that the townsfolk were sending us to every possible road except the one we needed to find. Hell, the only reason we even found the road was because I though I saw Virgil hiding behind a tree next to the turnout.

The house was completely untouched. Truck parked in the driveway. Pretty decent sized ranch-house style place with a tire swing out front. I almost thought that nothing was wrong when we got there, but the door was wide open and someone, or something had left a couple of letter blocks right in front of it. Like they wanted us to find it.

There was nothing out of place. No broken glass, no blood, no body. The house was totally fucking empty. Shit, there was even a half-eaten meal on the kitchen table. Cole's back office looked like something out of a conspiracy theorist's wet dream. Cork board on one wall with all kinds of pictures and notes. It looks like he'd been seriously digging into some shady government shit. Deb and I scooped up as many of his notes as we could, along with the computer and a shotgun.

I don't think the shotgun will be much help, but it's worth having.

Then, we found the basement. Holy fucking shit, this basement.

Cole must have been at this for a long time. A whole lot longer than I've been at it, and a whole lot longer than anyone at DARKNET's been around. He had stuff that I swear to god was from World War Two. He had piles and piles and piles of documentation, meticulously organized. He even had a couple dozen photographs of Antlers, and one of a woman that was burnt out as shit and covered in blood. We grabbed as much as we could, and went back to the car.

Just as we were leaving, I saw her. Anne. She was standing at the edge of the forest, smiling like a goddamned maniac. She was wearing the same hoodie as before, but there was a lot of dried blood on it. Deb saw her too, and she ran to the car to get it started. Anne went into a dead sprint. She had this weird, unnatural motion to the way she moved, and she was on top of me before I had any time to react.

Jesus christ, dude. There was something wrong with her eyes. Her jaw cracked open, and there were so many fucking teeth. This...tentacle thing came out of her throat. She held me down with one hand, and with the other she started trying to force my own mouth open. Her whole body was distorted and wrong. The arms were too long, the legs were too long. Everything was so abstract.

Anne was about to force that thing down my throat when I heard this loud bang, and her face turned into this red mist. She fell back, and I ran for the car. Deb was standing there, holding the shotgun like she'd done this before. I have to admit, I'm kind of impressed.

Anne was squirming around on the ground, flailing and shrieking. Those screams were just so wrong. It was like something that was trying to emulate a human, but not quite getting it. Deb pulled the car out onto the road, and I saw Anne getting back up to her feet as we punched it back to the motel.

Going to try and review some of the notes we found.

Going to try and get the image of Anne's face out of my head.

Deborah

Tried calling Cole again. Nothing but dial tones for hours. On what must have been the twentieth time I called, someone, or something picked up. Heard a woman breathing for a few seconds, then it hung up. Fuck. Took the gun and was going to try and find out where Cole lived, just so I could put a fucking bullet in that freaky bitch. Instead, I ran into Deborah again. She looked really tired. I feel a little hypocritical thinking that, because I've barely gotten much sleep myself.

We were shooting the shit, and I told her that I had somewhere to be. Just as I was starting to leave, I tripped over a package and nearly ate shit on the concrete floor. She laughed, and I just rolled my eyes. The package was this gross looking, dingy cardboard box. It fucking reeked of, like, nutmeg, I guess? Just this overwhelming forest smell like someone drenched the thing in air-freshener. I knew who it was from right at that moment.

Deb asked if it was from the Monster. I asked her how she knew about that, and she said that something had been stalking her and her boyfriend for months before he disappeared. Whenever it showed up, it always left behind that same smell. She said that whatever this thing is, it's interested in both of us. She said she thought it "marked" her, and that if the package is any indication, I'm "marked" too.

I'm not really sure what I expected to find in the package.

It was a dog collar, covered in blood. No tags. A couple of very fucking human looking teeth. A crumpled up note, which while it was mostly covered in blood, was still legible.

the jester has granted me a moment of clarity, and with that, i'm going to break some rules

the loyalists, the priestess, the judge and the others, have ventures all over the world

their king is dead, or as close as it will ever be to death, and so begins the dilemma of accession

we couldn't stop the monsters it created, because we were the monsters it created

you can succeed where we failed

please

not just for me, not just for us, for all of us.

the judge knows that you're here now, and i can only hold them off for so long

hurry, please.

p.s - when you see the nexus again, give the concubine my regards."

Ok, so, uh, not sure what to make of that. Antlers is trying to get me to help it save the world. Ok. Cool. Right. Fuck my life. I'm gonna need some time to stew on that.

Deb said that maybe we should work together. I told her that I work alone. She said that she didn't think either of us had an option anymore, and that if I was looking to get myself killed, there were far less complicated ways of doing it. I told her that, with the people I worked with, that having partners was kind of frowned upon. She just rolled her eyes and told me that we were going to find Cole's house. 

It's times like this that I remember why I'm single.

Leads

Went down to the diner again today. Met with Roger Cole again. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and that with what I've been dealing with, I'd believe it. Guy kept looking over his shoulder and mine. I can only imagine why. Here's what I found out.

• Antlers hasn't always been in the town. He only started showing up a few years ago. 
• Cole mentioned something about a "guy in a mask", but he wouldn't say anything else.
• A few years back, the reverend at the town's Church died. It took a few weeks to find a replacement, but they did eventually. He said something was "off" about the new preacher, and that a lot of folks stopped attending the sermons after a while. I asked him why, and he said that he wasn't reading from any holy bible he'd heard of. 
• He also said that the Preacher had some kind of "sway" over people, and that folks that tried to get him excommunicated ended up skipping town or just vanishing altogether. 
• Cole used to be the sheriff. Said that before they let him go, he was really going after the new Reverend, apparently named Leonard Whitewall. 
• Apparently, Whitewall was either buying off or influencing the town's mayor, and probably others, and Cole was basically forced out of being sheriff. Said he kept getting bricks thrown at his windows and threatening letters. He never saw who was doing it, but he was pretty sure it was kids. I asked him how he knew, and he said that one time he caught sight of a couple of the people doing it, and they were too short to be adults. 
• A good chunk of the town's initial population left, and the ones that stayed are either too old or too young, Cole said that it had something to do with Whitewall, but he wasn't sure what. Getting some serious Jim Jones vibes here. 
• He thinks that Antlers was like some kind of errand boy for the Preacher, and that whenever someone skipped town, Cole always found the same kind of pictures I did nearby. He said that he'd never seen the thing himself, but his wife had once, and it'd scared her bad enough that she wanted to take the kids and leave too. Cold refused to be scared out of town. She took the kids and moved to Seattle, supposedly.

I paid for the food, and just as I was leaving, Cole grabbed by jacket sleeve. He said that I needed to watch my back around the kids in town. That something wasn't right with them. I told him that I knew, and he nodded. 

Is that what I'm destined to become? An old man, drinking away the horrors he's seen? 

While I was leaving, I looked back at the diner. Cole was getting in his car, this old shitbucket Chevy with a taped on side mirror. Just as he was pulling out, I saw someone in the backseat. Blonde hair. Dark eyes. Sharp teeth. I don't know if Cole didn't see her, or if he didn't care. I tried running after the car but he was already too far down the road.

God, I hope he's alright. 

Redwood Falls: Part Whatever

Met another outsider today. Deborah.

Was sneaking out of my hotel-room to steal some coffee from the office when I bumped into her. Late twenties. Beanie. Dark green parka. Skinny jeans with a bunch of ear and nose rings. She seemed cool. Still don't trust her, but she said that she had the room next to mine. I asked her why she was in town. She said that her boyfriend (of course) had gone missing, and that he'd left her a voicemail before he did saying something out Redwood Falls. I asked her if he mentioned anything about Antlers, or masked people.

She looked at me like I'd gone crazy. Hate to admit it, but I'm starting to feel like I might be.

Anyway, I spilled the beans. Who I was, who I worked for, why I was here. She almost laughed at me. Said I was working with a bunch of cyber-terrorists. I told her that was bullshit, and that the Feds were trying to make us look bad to keep us quiet. I don't know if she bought it, but she wished me luck and fast-walked back to her hotel room.

In retrospect, the fact that I haven't shaved for nearly a week probably didn't help my case.

Managed to snag a couple bags of coffee before the clerk noticed. Spotted Virgil watching me from around the back of the hotel. I followed him. He was hiding inside a dumpster, only peeking his head out to talk to me. I have to admit, I giggled a little bit at it. He held up one of the dumpster lids and handed me a hand-scrawled note on a burger wrapper. I caught a little bit of what he actually looked like in the light, and I think he was wearing one of those skin-tight green screen suits, only painted black. Up closer, I could see more of his mask and it looked old. It had this aged, yellow tint to it.

I started reading the note, and he whispered "better dead than red" before he slammed the dumpster lid shut and wouldn't come out.

Life's a circus, and I'm the clown.

The note went as follows.

"There's a Church in this town. You won't see it on any street corner or on any hills. You won't see it anywhere you might look, because it doesn't want to be found. She knows that you're here, and she knows what you're going to do. Keep that pistol close, because they're coming for you.

NO PICKLES, EXTRA ONION."

I think that end part might have already been there. There was another note scrawled on the other side.

"Present headed your way. Courtesy of my boss."

Next time I see that freaky fuck, I'm finding out what's really going on.

Coffee was good. Needs a bit more oompf.

...

I'm not even sure what to call this one. I've been hiding out in my hotel room ever since it happened. I think I can see people outside the windows sometimes, but whenever I go to check, there's nothing there. I don't know what to think.

The shower keeps turning on and off and there's no one in there and what the fuuuuuckkk.

Ok, context. Context context.

I'd been eating whatever fast-food I could scrounge up lately. I decided to finally just go to one of the convenience stores in town, just to buy some chips and a few two liters of soda. Just something to hold me over for a little while. The only place I could find that actually wasn't a sit-down restaurant was this little Dollar-Tree type place. I don't even remember what the name was at the time. I think I was more concerned with trying to figure out if people were following me.

I'd bet actual money someone was. Kind of hope it was Virgil. At least that's a familiar kind of creepy.

The store was about what I expected. Rows of knock-off toys, cheaply packaged cookies, and the like. A little display of party balloons in the corner next to some cans of creamed corn. I picked up a few bags of chips, some microwaveable meals, and a thing of Coke. Just enough to last me a couple days. There was nobody at the counter, so I figured I'd look around a little.

There wasn't much to really see at first. At least until I looked behind the register.

Behind the counter was a handgun, because of course there was, along with a two-way radio. That was really weird, but it started to explain some things. I was just starting to look at the radio to check the frequency when I hear this loud, wet thumping coming from the back office. Like if you threw uncooked beef at a wall. I started getting real uneasy. Even more than I already was.

Just as I come back around the counter, this gorgeous looking blonde woman comes out of the back office. She couldn't have been more than nineteen, maybe. It was odd, because she was utterly beautiful, but at the same time, there was something not quite right about her. She had this black hoodie on. Pure black, no design. It was stained. Stained with what, I'm still not sure. Jeans and old boots. Smile was a little too wide, eyes a little too big. All these little inconsistencies in the way she moved that lumped together into a ball of unease in my gut.

She was cheerful, bubbly, and rang me up with no issues. Said her name was Anne. Apologized about the noise. She said that they'd been having a real "rat" problem lately. The emphasis is mine of course, because that sound was a whole lot fucking bigger than a rat.

We had a little back and forth. Just idle conversation while she counted the money.

"You in town for long?"
"No. Just visiting."
"Visiting who?"
"Nobody."
"Then why're you here?"

There was an accusing tone to her voice,  and I could see her smile disappear for a moment. Her eyes glanced at me. It was hard to tell if she was checking me out or not, and if she was, I can't say if it was in a sexual way. It felt more like some kind of animal eyeing another before it attacked. I kept my hands close to me, so I could grab the gun if I needed to. Started checking the exits. Could see people passing the glass-pane window giving me sideways looks. Expected a shot, or a scream, or something.

Nothing happened. I took my stuff and went back to the hotel room. Been in here ever since.

I only tried to go outside once, and when I did, I saw Anne standing in the parking lot. Right next to my car. Just staring at me.

I know it might just be me going crazy, but I swear to god I know what I saw.

I could've sworn she had sharp teeth.

The TV just turned on by itself again. Tried unplugging it. Didn't work. Keeps showing old stock footage of grasshoppers being eaten by ants and animal carcasses decomposing.

I fucking hate this town.

Virgil

I went to the address that this Virgil guy (gal?) gave me. It was an abandoned gas-station, way out on the edge of town. I showed up at the time they wanted me to. Dead of night. Brought my pistol along with me.

The walk there was uneventful. Half of me thought I'd run into Antlers along the way, but he's been weirdly absent since our last encounter. I'd almost say that I miss him, but I'd rather not be nostalgic about being kidnapped and mind-raped.

The gas-station was totally wrecked. Fire-damaged, broken glass windows, the works. There was even a rusted out Ford in the front, near the pumps. I was a bit on edge, so I got my gun out as I was headed inside. At first, I thought this would be a waste of time. That was, at least, until I got to the back office. There he was, just kicking back in this half-broken metal chair.

Virgil, which is what I'll call him since he didn't give me his real name, said that I worked for DARKNET. I was a little surprised, and I asked him how he knew that. He had this eerie, raspy voice that was hard to describe. It was quiet, but not so quiet that you couldn't hear him. It sounded like he had fucking throat cancer or something, I swear. He had the same Noh mask on too, along with a hoodie and black jeans. It got a better look at it now, and after a bit of looking around, I think it's an Oni mask. Cute. It looked pretty old, though. Kinda yellowed with age.

Anyways, he told me that there was something wrong in the town. I told him that, no shit, of course something weird was going on. I had creepy children staring me down in the street like it was high noon and, oh, no biggie, but a antler monster stalking me. He just laughed at me. Said he liked my moxy. I told him to get to the point.

Virgil said that he wanted me to spread the truth, and that I could use my connections with DARKNET to get the story out there. I told him that was what I already intended to do. He told me that there were other folks that had a serious interest in making sure nobody ever looked into Redwood Falls.

He handed me a paper. One of the census sheets from the library, only this was the one for last year. There are only a couple hundred people in the town. So, how, then, are there more children then people?

Virgil was getting up to leave, and I asked him who exactly he was. He said he was "A friend."

I asked him what the hell that meant, and of course, he just laughed.

He's a creepy bastard, but I think he's actually trying to help.

Saw things moving in the bushes on the way back. Smaller forms.

Five bucks says those little bastards followed me out there.

History and a New Lead

I decided to start digging into the town's history more. Cole was a decent source, but I had to sift most of what I got in the last update out of his drunken ramblings about "Kings" and Heineken. Town library was all kinds of creepy. Really decrepit. Cobwebs on the older bookshelves. Not a computer in sight. Receptionist was some college age gal. Basically told me to piss off when I asked her where the town records were. Half of me wanted to slap that shitty blue dye out of her hair.

Kids these days, eh?

Anyway. After about an hour of searching, I found some of the town's records. Established in 1894 by some protestant settlers from out-east. Started out as a trading post for fur-trappers, expanded out during the gold rush and died down for a couple years. The strange thing was that all the census records were water-damaged, to the point I could barely read any of them. The ones that weren't water damaged had been, inexplicably, marked up with sharpie.

I'm getting the distinct sense that some shady shit is going on, if that wasn't already obvious.

The weirdest part was when I went back into the maze of bookshelves. While I was looking through their section on stuff about the occult, someone pulled a book out of the shelf in front of me. Through the hole, I could see they were wearing a mask. It didn't register at first, but it looked like a Noh mask.

You know? One of those creepy Japanese stage masks?

Yeah, I don't get it either.

Anyway, this creepy asshole suddenly shoves a paper through the hole and says, in this really raspy, perverted sounding voice, that "the children don't sing anymore". Before I can even say anything, not that I'm sure I would have even known what to have said, they were gone. I took the paper and checked around the entire library, but they must have known some kind of bullshit Scooby-Doo secret corridor or something because I couldn't find anything.

The paper they gave me said this:

"Rosenberg. Follow the Path. Do not trust the Judge. They will try and stop this, but what is set in motion cannot be prevented. You need my help, I need yours. Meet me at [removed the location for the sake of safety]. He knows what you're here for, and they will come for you if you're not careful. Dig deep enough and you put a bullseye on your back.

- Virgil"

Alright. "Virgil". I'll play along. 

Saw another kid on the way back to the hotel room. Was on roller-blades. Just keep rolling along, staring at me while I walked. Nobody seemed to notice it but me. Spotted that bastard Sheriff again too. 

He's in on this shit. I fucking know it.

Return to Form

I know I've waited some time to put something out there again. It's been a less than fruitful couple of days. I've been doing more digging around town to get more information on this thing, and the town itself.

Redwood Falls proper, the actual town-town type area, is actually kind of nice. Quaint little main street with people walking around, mom and pop stores and such. All very kosher. That said, after everything that's happened, I can't help but be a little unnerved at it all. For a town with a supposed monster running around, everyone seems really at ease. Like this is just normal for them.

I mean, I get that everyone deals with the paranormal in their own way, but a whole town just being cool with Antlers-guy bumming around?

There's still a bit of snowfall coming down from the mountains, so it's pretty cold overall. Got the idea to check out one of the local bars. You'd be surprised how much liquor loosens people's lips.

Bar was about what I expected. Kind of dingy. Pool-tables and oak stools around a small bar counter. Waitress named Deanna. Kinda butch, tank-top and a bandanna over short hair. Not really my type. I asked her if she knew any old-timers I could talk to. She just sighed and pointed to this old-dude in the back of the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey.

The guy's name was Roger Cole.

He wasn't really receptive at first, but when I told him I wasn't a reporter, he seemed to cave a bit. I asked him what he knew about the town, about Antlers. He froze up when I brought up the monster. Said it'd been around for a long, long time. Before the towns and the cities. He said that it had "a sway over folks" and that "there were other ones too". I asked him what he meant. Cole said that the thing was like an errand boy. I didn't get a chance to ask him anything else, because this big, beefy looking dude in a ten-gallon hat swept in and took me aside. Big bushy beard, looked like Charles Bronson.

The Sheriff, apparently. He told me that Cole was crazy, and that I was wasting my time. I told him that the only people that say stuff like that usually have something to hide. He gave me a dirty look, and politely suggested I leave. I happily obliged.

Been mostly walking around town, since renting a car is expensive and the budget of a freelancer is a tight one. Starting to think I shouldn't be. While I was walking home, I caught a glimpse of a bunch of school-kids, just staring at me from the other side of the road.

I swear to god, not a single one of them blinked. Not once.

Been keeping my gun on me ever since.

I know it won't help if something comes for me, but it makes me feel better.

Not by much, though.

Tired

I'm, uh, I'm fine. Guys.

I'm not really sure what happened.

I was in my hotel room, looking at those pictures that got slid under the door. Started getting a terrible headache. The worst one I've ever experienced in my life. Ears ringing, puking, the whole nine yards. I was stumbling out of the bathroom when I saw it. The thing from the woods.

It was in the fucking room.

I'm not going to even try and wrap my head around what happened. I looked at it, and it looked at me. It was tall, definitely more than six feet. Antlers on the head. Bright, white eyes. Like headlights. I don't know if they were really lit up or if I was just hallucinating. It had this shroud type thing on over most of it's body, and it fucking reeked of just...forest smell.

It's hard to describe. It was like, tree sap and that nutmeg-type smell you get when you're out in the woods.

After that, I don't remember much. I woke up on the side of the road, about five miles outside town, laying in a puddle of my own vomit. I kept feeling like I had just had a really long dream. You know what I mean, right? That feeling when you wake up and you remember snippets of a dream, but not the whole thing?

I also found this symbol written on my hand in what I'm really hoping is Sharpie. I recognize the symbol too. It was on the back of the book I found back in Mesquite. I'm not really sure what it means, but I don't really have much choice now other than to find out.

I have to know what happened.

This thing, it's something else. I've seen all kinds of monsters all over the country. I've seen shit you wouldn't believe, and very little of it scares me any more. This thing scared me.

There's something wrong in this town.

When I got back to my motel room, I found more of those fucking papers on the floor, along with a dead squirrel. Skinned. It was splayed out on a couple of the sheets, and whatever had done this had taken a pair of sticks and shoved them into it's head. Like antlers.

Talked to ALETHA again. She said that I wasn't the only one that had experienced this. Said she'd have someone drop off a fake license and some money for a pistol. I asked her why I needed one, since I figured this thing could probably take a few bullets.

She said it wasn't for the thing.

She said it was for me.

how much do you hate

it does not compare

taken

Stomach hurts. Can't see anythign

Whole Room smells like tree sap

whyam i outside

he's here

Redwood Falls: Part 2.5

I found these slid under my motel room door today.

I have a bad fucking feeling about this.

Don't feel good. Nauseous.

Redwood Falls: New Developments

Saw something today. Still not sure exactly what it was.

Followed Shirley's instructions to a backwoods road, even further out of town than my hotel was. She said it was called "Dead Man's Turn" or something. Said it had a single black tree standing at the turn where, apparently, a couple had crashed into it and died or some goofy shit like that.

Picture I got of the back of the camp. Most of the tents
and shit were behind me when I took this.

Found the tree, started digging around. Didn't find much at first. Stumbled into one of those campsites. Totally abandoned. Tents, equipment, all of it. Just laying around. Like they'd just vanished into thin air. There was even food still in one of the pots above the dead fire.

Got the chills really bad. Only got one picture before I heard something moving in the bushes behind me. Turned around, didn't see anything at first.

I only noticed the movement when my eyes adjusted to all the shrubbery. Something was crawling around out in the brush. Not like a bear, or a wolf. The movements were human. Like a person, awkwardly crawling across the ground.

Except, the movements were all wrong. It looked like it was injured or something. Moved with a weird loping motion that's hard to describe. Then, I saw it. The antlers. It looked right at me, and I fucking ran. I am not ashamed to admit that. I don't get paid to kill these things. I get paid to find them, and I sure as shit found it.

Still in the motel room now. Not really sure what to think. Head hurts like a motherfucker.

Redwood Falls, Part Deux

Diner story time.

So, morning rolled around and I decided to check out that Diner down the road. "Buckhorn Baths Breakfast". I don't even have a joke for that.

Whole place had this old-western style feel to it. Raw wood pillars and red felt carpeting. Waitress was a real doll. Damn fine coffee. Had a lot of cups of coffee in my time, and that was one of the best. Would've bought cherry pie too, but who the hell eats pie for breakfast?

Anyways, I chatted up with the lady that owned the place. Shirley, I think it was. Older gal, probably late fifties or so. Kind of what you imagine when you picture an old lady, complete with a big wig and glasses. She said she'd been in the town for nearly fifty years, and I asked what she knew about the Antler thing. I need to get a better name for that. Antlers? Buck? I'll keep working on that.

She said she'd heard about it, and that she'd seen it herself once when she was a girl. Said that one night, out on her daddy's farm, she'd gotten woke up when the dogs started barking. Went out to see what it was, and out at the edge of the woods was this thing. She said it was tall, with a big bulbous head and a pair of long, intricate antlers. She said that the antlers actually seemed fluid, like they moved on their own.

Shirley said that, just then, she started getting a really nasty headache. She passed out, and when she woke up, she was in the hospital. I asked her why, and she showed me one of her hands.

She was missing three fingers.

The doctors told her that, based on the wounds, it looked like something had tried to bite them off. They tried to keep the whole thing on the DL, but she said she overheard the doctors saying the teeth marks looked almost human. One of the fingers was already gnawed off, and they had to amputate the other two.

I was taking my notes when she mentioned something really interesting.

She said that the town reverend, a man named Parker, had visited her while she was in the hospital. He told her that a wolf had come out of the woods and bit her fingers off. Her father said the same thing too, and that the Reverend was really smart about these kinds of things.

That was that, she said, and she didn't see the monster for a long time afterwards. She said that she only saw it one more time after that, and that was when it was watching her from the road one night, coming home from the diner. I got the exact spot where she saw it. I'll take a look when I get a chance.

Paid the bill and took off. Got some of the coffee to go. Ran into some drunk asshole stumbling through the parking lot. The waitress was changing shift at the time, and while she was getting in her car, she told me that was "Old Matt Zadok". The town drunk.

How fascinating. I didn't even know having a "town drunk" was still a thing.

Just Another Small Town?

I was going to give this a clever little name, like the last investigation, but fuck it. I'm lazy. Here's what I know so far.

The town is actually called Redwood Falls. Yes, I know many of you would love to correct me on that. Don't.

The flight over was underwhelming. Went on Karvina instead of Delta, and paid out the ass for it. Got stuck between some jerkoff mom and her screaming kid, with a blubbery fat fuck on the other side. There are two armrests for a reason, people. You're supposed to only use one. That's not to mention the fact that airplane food sucks.

Yes, I know what you're going to say. Shut up and let me finish.

So, Redwood Falls. Pretty much what I expected. Stereotypical small town in the Pacific Northwest. Just a stone's throw from the coast, really. I did a bit of research online and it barely shows up anywhere. All I can seem to find is stuff for another city named Redwood Falls in Minnesota and a cancelled video-game. Gonna be honest, not the best first impression. As far as I could tell, the town was founded in the late 1800s, around 1880 or so.

Took a long bus ride from the airport in Salem to get there, and it's actually shockingly pretty. It has that same charm a place like Gary, Indiana might have if it weren't, you know, Indiana.

My boss, we'll call her ALETHA, since that's one of the pseudonyms she uses, set me up with a hotel out on the edge of town. It's dingy as all get out, and I'm pretty sure the manager has holes in the walls, but there aren't many other options. I sure as hell am not going to use those campsites, thanks. The dozen and a half signs for bears in the area were not encouraging.

The idiot gave me a two bed room, because of course he did. That said, there was soda in the fridge and some decent coffee on the desk, plus some soft as fuck pillows, so I can't complain that much.

Oh, who am I kidding. I can't stop complaining. The deer's head on the wall is fucking creepy, so there's that.

Anyways, ALETHA had one of my other contacts leave some docs stashed in a flash-drive. Typical dead-drop kind of stuff. They left it in a tree outside the hotel for some reason. The inner machinations of her contact's mind are an enigma.

Most of the docs were about sightings of some kind of creature in the area. Real weird stuff. Some conflicting reports, but everyone seemed to be saying it had antlers. Tall, too. Big, bright eyes, like deadlights. I'll post some of the eyewitness accounts if I have time. Based on what I've read, this could be bigger than it seems.

On the town itself, though. It's still the ass-end of winter, so I didn't do much exploring, but there's a mom & pop type diner down the road that I'll check out tomorrow when I have time. Gotta get some sleep before then.

Phone rang earlier, but they hung up before I could answer. Probably a wrong number.

First Investigation III: Can't think of a joke for this one.

Took a stroll around good old fucking Mesquite today. Still not sure what happened.

There's a few people that still live around here. Mostly scavengers, really. Didn't even know they existed until I met one in a bar in what everyone called "Old Town". Which was weird, because it wasn't very old, nor was it an actual town. It was really just the few buildings in the city that weren't abandoned when the camps were settled.

You know, now that I think about it, I've only seen a couple dozen people actually leave the camps over the last three days. I'd look into that more, but duty calls. Headed to Washington here in a day or so. I guess the Zone isn't the only place where weird shit happens.

I digress. So, I decided to check out this "Old Town" and see what I could dredge up. There was really only one place I knew I could get decent info, and that was the nearest dive bar. Say what you will, but liquor has a way of loosening people's lips.

Bar itself was alright, even if it seemed to have more than the whole town's population in it at once. Drinks were kind of meh.

Hit it off with this older guy. Probably in his fifties or so. Said he used to work for the government, as a scientist or something. One hand, if you can believe it. Thought I was talking to a fucking pirate the way he slurred his words, but I got the gist.

He said that the Zone was going to keep expanding, forever, and that we were all doomed. Typical fatalistic drunk stuff. It was something he said at the end, though, that really got my attention. He said that "you can't just close Pandora's box." That, that was weird. Not like, foot fetish weird. More like, weirdly specific kind of weird.

I was just starting to ask him some real questions, about what he meant, his name and such, when the old fucker passed out into my lap.

Gonna be honest, I kind of liked those jeans before they had old drunk vomit on them.

Of course the hotel doesn't have a working washer. Of. fucking. course.

I wanted to see more of the town, though, so I started checking out some of the abandoned buildings. Kind wished I hadn't, in retrospect. I checked out a few; an old school, a mall, and a few apartments before I found this old, victorian looking house out on the edge of town. It was surprisingly well intact, considering it looked it the owners had skipped town years ago.

I was kinda just meandering through the house when, I swear to god, I heard someone walking around upstairs. I don't scare easily, but that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It wasn't a real light pitter-patter either. These were loud, hard, deliberate steps. Not boots either. I think that was what unsettled me the most. It sounded like bare-feet slapping on wood. There was so much broken glass and trash on the floor that I can't even imagine who, or what, could have been walking without fucking up their feet.

I bolted for the door, if I'm honest.

While I was running, though, I tripped over one of the floorboards. Caught myself before I fell into a pile of broken glass, but I found something where I'd tripped up the board. A book. Old, black leather. Bound up with a string. Way too new to have been there that whole time. The footsteps got really loud, headed for the stairs, so I snagged the book and ran for my fucking life.

I don't know for sure, but when I looked back, I think I saw someone in the front doorway. I'm not sure, all I can remember thinking was "antlers". I don't know either.

So, before you ask, no, I don't know what's up with the glitching on that second picture. The first was just an interior shot of the house. The second should have been of the book. I tried that same shot at least a dozen times, and each one came back artifacted as fuck. Book itself is totally incoherent too. Just a bunch of symbols and scratchy looking handwriting. Looks like it might be some kind of language(?). I'll hold on to it and see if I find anything else.

I'm headed out for Washington now. One of my associates is saying that he wants me to check out a town out that way. Clearwood Falls or some shit. I'll get another update when I get here.

First Investigation II: Electric Boogaloo

So, I've been keeping an eye out at the Relocation Zone for about a day now. Nothing much happening.

Refugees come into the camps, get sprayed, get shuttled into the tent, and come out in jumpsuits.

Like I said yesterday. Sometimes, one or two people'll be missing. I've been keeping track of the kind of people that go missing, and they're never kids or older people. It's almost always younger or middle aged folks. No clue why.

Some shady shit going on over there. Then again, I guess that was kind of obvious.

The guards are shockingly lax, though.

I've been watching the nearest camp to me for a while now. It's out where a golf-course used to be. If you squint at it real hard, you can almost see where the driving range used to be. Now, it's just line after line of white tents and barbed wire. Crazy how things can change so quickly.

Oh, right.

So, the guards don't seem to give two shits. Like, at all. I watched them just stand around while the refugees just did their own thing. Hell, the guards even gave some of the kids candy and gave a few parents some cigarettes. It's nice how, when everything is so shitty, a little basic humanity can come through. The nice ones are almost disgustingly nice.

The mean ones are the opposite.

I've seen plenty of beatings in the last few hours. Guys and gals in fatigues with stun batons and rubber bullets, taking out their issues on whatever poor bastard bumps into them. I'm sure they're making sure that doesn't get on the evening news. Not like anyone really cares, though.

Been trying to get a good look into the Zone itself, too. I deliberately took a second floor hotel room, just so I could try and get up on the roof and peek over the wall. Can't see much. Just a lot of destroyed buildings now. Back when the army first pulled out and built the wall, they started bombing the ever-loving hell out of the interior. Can't tell if it's still that bad or not.

I mean, I've seen some weird shit in the last hour or so, but nothing like back when the Zone first started.

First one was something like a man. Real tall. I mean, like, he had to be twenty feet. Except it was all in the legs and arms. They were stretched out like taffy, extending down to the ground. Pure black too, with these beady little white eyes on the head. Creepy. Gut creepy.

Second one was really odd. It was a house. Walking.

I know what you're thinking.

"Gittes, that's dumb. Houses can't walk."

No, really. It was. On pipes and metal rebar, like spider legs. Just a quaint little one-story suburban home going for a stroll like it ain't no thang.

I don't know what the fuck's going on behind that wall, but I really don't want to see it personally.

The First Investigation

Got a decent pic of the perimeter wall
before the guards shooed me off.

Now, my first investigation seemed obvious. I wanted a better understanding of what was going on at the border of the Zone.

Thankfully, living where I do, I can pretty easily reach the border towns.

The traffic up that way is horrendous. I spent more time parked than I did actually driving. I fucking hated Mesquite with a passion before I even got there.

The "Mesquite Relocation Zone" as FEMA calls it, is a total dump. Most of the town is intact, but it's basically depopulated at this point. I can understand why. Can't tell you how many times I'd be in my hotel room, trying to sleep, and I'd get woken up by gunshots.

Probably a couple dozen, I'd guess.

Anyways, security doesn't allow anyone in or out of the camps without clearance, and that was something I'm rather lacking in. That said, they don't do a very good job trying to hide what's going on here. You can smell the camps long before you see them. It's kind of hard to describe, really. Just this overwhelming smell of people. I mean, it smelled a lot like shit too, but you get the point.

From what I've heard, the National Guard stages raids into the Zone occasionally. Not very often, though. I happened to see one go out this morning, and they didn't come back with as many people as the left with. It's probably worse out there than I thought. Who knows, really?

I know I'm sure as shit not going out there.

The military came back with people, though. Most of them looked like extras out of a Mad Max movie, honestly. They sure as shit didn't look like they wanted to be there. I managed to get a good look at how they screen people. I've heard it was bad, but jesus.

People in these bright orange hazmat suits, all working in this huge tent in the center of the camp. They hosed all the refugees down with some kind of bright blue fluid. Some kind of decontamination, maybe?

Then, they herded all of them into the big tent and I couldn't see them anymore. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that's not a good sign.

It took a couple hours, but the refugees finally came back out, and they were wearing these bright orange jumpsuits. Like a plumber's coveralls, you know? Each one had a number on it. I'm guessing that's to keep track of them, and I'm sure it's totally mundane, but I couldn't help but be reminded of a concentration camp.

A couple people that went in didn't come out of that tent.