#paranoia

[Author's note: The historical context of the time period has been altered than what actually happened in history due to the nature of the story being derived from another one of my projects.] August 19th, 1915 Corp. D.H. Griffin, 3rd Infantry Battalion, US Army

I was staying at a hotel in Chicago Illinois during a business trip and I was going to stay for the whole weekend. It was an older hotel, one that still used small keys rather than keycards to enter the rooms. I didn't mind, it seemed nice to get away from the onslaught of technology.

It started with a whisper faintly appearing on the wind. ‘Psst.’ Larineth glanced around the field she was in, and after not seeing anyone, she went back to her task: picking the most beautiful flowers she could find and laying them in a basket. Today was her birthday, and she had proudly told anyone that she met that she was turning nine years old today, and soon she would be an adult just like them. ‘Psst.’

My friends and I used to do a lot of geocaching after our senior year in high school. For those who don’t know what geocaching is, it’s essentially a worldwide scavenger hunt. People will select sites and conceal a “geo-cache” somewhere unobtrusive, then post GPS coordinates on geocaching websites where other searchers can download the cords and locate the cache. Usually, people who have found the object (often it’s a chest or something hollow) will leave a note or small personal memento for…

My eyes struggle to open. I blink several times, trying to take in my surroundings. A stark white ceiling looms above me. Even from a distance, I can make out the little cracks that scour the surface; hundreds of tiny passages into darkness. Shifting around a bit, I feel the starchy sheets beneath my outstretched hands. They feel stale and unwashed. Unsurprisingly, the rigid mattress beneath me is no more comforting.

I don't know what's worse, the screams that ended a few weeks ago, or the silence that has fallen since then. Before, I felt like everything should be done to help others. Now, in my self-reflection, I don't know anymore.

Ever since I can remember I have been able to see things that others cannot. I still remember the days of my infancy when I would, for the first time, sleep in my own bed, in my own room, and how the shadows of unknown beings would haunt my room. Or perhaps my head? All I know is that I saw things, and that, at least to me, these things were as real as the other things that other people were able too see and touch.

3:47 pm. August 4th, 1973. My name is Kevin Matthews. I am at the Matthews Lakeside cabin in Black Rock Park which I received in my dad's will. I'm writing this to document my odd findings of my family's lakehouse.

My name is Sophia Radcliffe, and I am a retired Social Worker with the Ministry of Children and Family Development. I am only writing this because I am no longer working with the ministry, and have no obligations to keep my personal experiences to myself, however I will not use real names to protect the identity of the survivors. I have been given permission to share this story by my former client, Mrs. Sanderson, who is the only other person who knows the truth.

It was times like these, when I wished I could just run away and never look back. I wanted to scream, but I only could cry internally from all the stress that came from my family. My father and my stepmother always go at each other’s neck like a couple of lions fighting over a piece of meat. There is no peace, sometimes I wish, I could crawl into a hole and never come out of it. I desperately pray to God that every day would at least get a little better, but it never does. Nothing never gets…

In 1998 I got a new teaching job in a new town. To save money I moved into a small house that was for rent. My roommate, Claire, was nice enough and the two of us got along easily. I moved in and found my room. While unpacking I came across an old framed photograph. Three men dressed as hospital orderlies were sitting together in the living room of the house. These three men had once lived in the house I was now renting with Claire. I didn't want to throw away the photograph, it didn't…

In the late nineties, scientists conducted the Distant Snake Experiment. The experiment consisted of putting a one-man-capsule in a distant orbit around Earth. They would be suspended in solitary confinement for two months, logging their mental status and their physical status during that time. However, the experiment was shut down shortly after it was created due to strange complications. The experiment puts a man inside a vessel, then puts that vessel in a 400,000 kilometer orbit around…

After moving to a small town in southern Michigan I got a job as a cashier in the local store. After work I would walk home to my small house and order a small pizza. This was my routine for two weeks when things took a strange turn. I called in my usual order to the pizzeria when a new voice, one I hadn't heard before answer the phone and told me "The usual? No problem. I'll deliver it in less than five minutes."

When I was very little, I met my very best friend. I was quite the fearless little child, so I wasn’t afraid of him. Though, I do think most little kids might’ve been. But, I was a boy, and by my logic that meant I wasn’t supposed to be scared of anything. Even if I was little, I was still a boy.

I don't like it here... The room is cold and claustrophobic. The walls seem to close in on me if I look at them for too long - which is kind of hard, saying that all that consists in my room is a bed, a desk with a chair and those damned fucking four white walls.

In my hometown, Park City, Utah, things are usually pretty quiet and easygoing due to it being the so called, “Number 1 Ski Town” on Earth by about 15 different ski magazines. Not much happens other than the Sundance Film Festival and ski season. I am telling you this to give you some background and to let you realize that nothing paranormal or odd ever happens here or to any of it’s people.

I was a nurse fresh out of my program and eager to start working. After applying to many different hospitals I was accepted by a prestigious private hospital specializing in obstetrics and prenatal care. The hospital was famous for its surrogacy programs and had global reputation of delivering the healthiest and genetically superior babies. I was of course excited and couldn't wait to see my new hospitals and meet my new coworkers.

In 1988 an unknown broadcast overtook several UHF stations in the Midwestern United States for six consecutive nights. The broadcast would last for only a few minutes and consisted of white static with a gray silhouette of a person in the center of the screen. The shadowed figure spoke with a an androgynous but deep voice and always spoke in whispers.

10:00 A.M. (Tuesday Morning)

A dream of pale, flesh colored thread. I blinked back the darkness encompassing my vision, revealing again the dusty room we had been biding our time in. I must've fallen asleep, and the Sun was now dead, the window revealing night blanketed over the countryside. The moonlight casted shadows of corpses of forests and dead verdure, the sheets of snow reflecting the light with a strange sheen.