I’m a geologist working at Death Valley National Park in Nevada. Over the last few months, we’ve been studying the geological formation dubbed “Devil’s Hole.” Here’s what it looks like, for those interested.
Anyway, I’ve always found this place somewhat disconcerting. We have a vague idea of how it came to be and what makes it do what it does, but there’s something else. Something…off.
The other day, we sent a little submarine drone into the water to see if it could map out the labyrinthine cave system we know is there, but has been completely inaccessible for decades. Also, we wanted to find out how deep it goes. The fact an earthquake in China could cause the water to rise so substantially at this spot in Nevada makes us think it goes way deeper than preliminary estimates.
The lights in the sky were a diversion. We should have looked down.
November 20th, 2016
In a matter of days, the following terms will have meaning to everyone in the world:
That which grows through our heels.
That which tastes our skin.
That which fills our pores.
That which empties.
November 21st, 2016
Laura is dead. Gus is dead. Mohammad is dead. Nes is dead.
November 22nd, 2016
Where can one go when everywhere is a trap waiting to be sprung? I feel as if I’m navigating an endless minefield, with every step having the potential to be my last. Everyone is staring at the sky with hope in their eyes. Everyone is going to die.
I bought these few pages at a local trader’s tent for the equivalent of $.25 USD. It was the only thing there written in English. I don’t know what any of it means, but the fact it names the missing explorers and ruined village is troubling.
June 29th, 2016
Let this be a journal of our last moments. I know we won’t make it out.
June 30th, 2016
They took Jane last night. This morning, the trees have her eyes. All the trees; every knot hole, every space, every interstice, is stuffed with her eyes. Two eyes copied into thousands. I don’t know how. Nothing makes sense. But they’re staring at us. We’re being watched. They follow every one of our movements, as if they didn’t already know what was going to happen.
I followed the sound of buzzing. The deeper into the woods I went, the louder the sound became. It was dark this far in; there were remnants of structures from industrial-era factories long neglected and choking with trees, vines, and countless other plants. Judging from the level of growth, no one had been here in a very, very long time.
The buzzing persisted. It became hard to walk through the underbrush. I spotted, or rather felt, a swarm of insects. They flew by my ear, paying me no attention, save for one. He flew into the back of my neck and instinctively stung me. I pulled his writhing body off my neck and studied him. It was a bumblebee, fat and covered with pollen. More streaked by. They were going in the direction of the sound.
No pain accompanied the loss; the victims went to sleep one night and simply woke up without fingernails. The events occurred in Donglu village, located in China’s Shandong Province. There are limited medical resources, so few sought treatment. The affected went about their lives.
Teeth came next.
In Pinellas County, Florida, between November 3rd and 16th, 19 people checked themselves into local hospitals and reported they had woken up with jaw pain, bleeding gums, and missing teeth. They were all wisdom teeth. No one could explain what had happened.
On November 20th, 82 people in Lahore, Pakistan woke up without arms and legs.
A couple years back, there was a software flaw in a few webcam brands. Whenever they were active, they could be accessed by scanning the Internet for a particular open port. Once the port was found, anyone could tune in without the user knowing they were being watched. And millions of people used these webcams.
The companies quickly released software hotfixes, but no one, aside from a few tech-savvy folks, updated their webcam software. So even today, they broadcast everything they do in front of their computer to anyone who’s voyeuristic enough to watch. People like me.
For the last 35 years, a lake in northern Canada has been the site of hundreds of suspected drownings. The location is in the middle of the Canadian tundra. There is nothing around. No food, no shelter. Just cold, inhospitable wilderness.
The lake is frozen eight months out of the year. Nothing happens then. But during the thaw, when we’re doing our flyovers, we’ll see clothes floating on the surface of the water.
Like we’ve always done, we’ll dispatch a team to investigate. They’ll bring back what they can recover, which will invariably be clothing and someone’s wallet or purse.