Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep212: Episode 212: Horrors from the Deep Web

Episode Date: January 25, 2025

Our opening feature length tale is all four parts of ‘The Part of the Deep Web we’re not Supposed to See’ an original story by Mr. Outlaw, kindly shared with us on NoSleep:  https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/78td1x/the_part_of_the_deep_web_that_we_arent_supposed/  Tonight’s second terrifying tale of horror is all three episodes of the epic ‘The White Van Man Series’, a wonderful original work by Luke Hemingway, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all.  https://twitter.com/LukeHemingway11 https://www.reddit.com/user/Pristine-Engine4388/

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BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. The Deep Web scares us because it represents a hidden, unregulated corner of the internet where anything can happen beyond the reach of law enforcement or societal norms. Unlike the familiar surface web, the Deep Web harbors anonymity and secrecy, making it a breeding ground for illicit activities like black market transactions, hacking forums, and even chilling rumors of human exploitation. His shadowy reputation is amplified by stories of dark deep.

and dangerous encounters, creating a sense of dread about what might be lurking just out of sight in the vast digital abyss, as we shall see in tonight's two feature-length stories. As ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's tales may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin. We open tonight's proceedings with the part of the deep web we're not supposed to see by Mr. Outlaw. I'll assume you all know about the deep web.

Well, what you've heard is true. It's not a great place. While some people are there to score weed or fire-hounds, or even out of sheer curiosity, others, well, they're obviously not up to anything good. But I'm not here to talk about those sickos. I'm here to talk about what lies beyond that point. the more cryptic and unexplainable parts of the internet.

The parts that nobody is really supposed to see. There was an infographic that cropped up a while ago. Not sure when. The eight levels of the internet. Maybe you've seen it. Well, as interesting as it was, it's complete bunk. I'm sorry, but polymeric falsigal derivation means nothing. And the Primark system?

Well, I guess someone's a fan of Warhammer. No. There's no quantum mechanics involved here. However, that doesn't mean it's an easy place to find. Now, I'm not going to begin to tell you how to get there. It's unlikely that you'd be able to, even if I did. I'm not tooting my own horn here. I just didn't have a life outside of this.

I was warned, of course. Everyone told me I wasn't going to like what I saw, that I wouldn't even understand it. And now I'm passing off that warning to you. Don't try to look for this. There's no official name for this place, or at least I haven't seen one. There were rumours, however.

These range from an Illuminati chat room to a virtual holding cell for an experimental AI gone rope. In reality, it's a lot worse. After a long and painful process of breaking down firewalls, encryptions, solving bizarre philosophical riddles, and following hidden links, I was finally directed to a blank page with one line of text and a text box underneath.

Quid quaires, Latin for, what do you seek? I remember feeling surprised, but in retrospect I didn't know what I was expecting. I'll admit I was a bit stumped here, partly because I didn't know the answer to that question. I had no objective. I just wanted to see if I could do it. I tried some generic answers at first. I typed in the truth and enlightenment, you know, matrix shit. Nothing happened.

I tried a bunch of answers, but none of them worked. I was getting frustrated at this point. Maybe this was a gag page. Maybe I hadn't really figured anything out. Oh, if only. I tried something off the wall. Not sure how this came to me or why I thought it would work, but I typed in what also seeks me.

Now that I think about it, this thing might have been an AI. To my surprise, the page went blank, like fully blank. I waited. After about five minutes, I was directed to what looked like a forum. No, not even that. It was more basic, just a list of links over a brownish-yellow background. The links themselves were indecipherable, to seemingly random sequences of characters, symbols, and letters. A lot of them I had never seen before.

It almost looked like an alien language. Obviously, just a code I didn't understand. and at this point expectations were off the wall. Each link was a shot in the dark. I clicked on the first one. It loaded up a live feed of what seemed to be the Paris Catecumns. I watched for a while, but it was ultimately uneventful. I moved on to the next link.

It was a shaky video in a dark setting, but I could make out men in tactical and. gear. They were in a house opening doors and sweeping each room. Eventually they kicked one down to reveal a creature, tall and humanoid with scaly skin. It was gnawing on a dismembered arm. They tried shooting at it, but it escaped out of the window. The video stopped there. Well, I was flawed. What the hell was this? It looked too real to be unreleased film footage, and I was officially intrigued. Maybe this was worth the months of headaches and bloodshot eyes after all.

I couldn't stop now. I started working down the list of links. With each click, everything got more and more bizarre, more disturbing. I stumbled upon a document called The Paragon Project. The Paragon Project, detailing trials of human experimentation that would lead to superhuman levels of strength and durability. It was an apparent success, looked official too. There were essays on space-time anomalies, glitches in reality, and apparent pictures of alternate dimensions. There were detailed explanations regarding Area 51, the Bermuda Triangle,

assassination's disappearances and the true nature of the Holy Grail. One of the more upsetting ones was a document referring to a world-ending bomb, a nuke that 720,000 times stronger than the one dropped on Hiroshima. I don't know why we would need that. I found contingency plans for different kinds of apocalypses. Nuclear winter. biological weapons viral outbreak.

Some more peculiar ones were called the Marianas Trench Abnormality, the bluntly labelled strange men on the 15th floor, and one simply referred to as blackout. Recovered logs of skinwalker hunting expeditions, 9-1-1 transcripts from residents of a town in Texas that went missing in 1977, and even the journals that belong to the people,

involved in the Diatlov Pass incident. Hmm, they didn't go insane because of the snow. I spent hours on there, looking through pages and pages of things I felt like I wasn't supposed to see. I came across a trailer to a silent film made back in 1910, one that apparently made people claw their eyes out after watching that nearly derailed the whole industry. There was a live stream of a hooded man sitting in front of a camera.

Head crouched down. He eventually lifted his head, even though he had no mouth, a deep guttural, hello, came through my speakers. Somehow I knew it came from him. I didn't stick around for that. There are obscure sets of step-by-step guides that involve things like cutting off your own limbs and sewing on a corpses, performing religious incantations in the middle of the Siberian forest, and going to coordinates that apparently housed captive fallen angels.

It was unclear what any of these were supposed to achieve. There was also a 20-second long clip titled The Futility. of the living. I didn't watch it. That's when I realized there was no way even the highest form of organized government had full control of this. One of the scariest things about this whole experience was that I didn't find an end to the list, no matter how far I scrolled down. I think I had a meltdown and passed out eventually because I woke up on my floor in the middle of the night. I looked at my computer. computer screen to see looped helicopter footage of a massive crap-like creature tearing apart

a coastal island. I clicked off of it. I just sat there for the longest time. I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing and I don't think I really wanted to. Now, I'm not really sure why I kept going. My brain was screaming for me to take my computer out to the lawn and smash it pieces. But I didn't. I noticed something I hadn't before. A small message at the bottom left hand corner of the screen. I don't know if it was always there or not. It was hard to read, so I had to squint. More Latin. Translated into, are you satisfied? There were two options underneath it. Yes and no. Now, I knew the answer to this question. Hell no, I wasn't satisfied. I was horrified, scarred for life. I should have clicked on yes. But if I just clicked on yes,

it would have taken me out of that god-forsaken place, back to comfort insanity. Even right now, I can't tell you why I clicked on no. But once I did, the page seemed to refresh. It was still the basic same setup, except there were only four links. This time, there were no recognisable numbers or characters. Hell, it didn't look like anything that could have come from this world. Just a collection of extremely crude symbols that didn't give off any sense of pattern or direction. I clicked on the first link. After about 20 seconds, I slammed my computer shut.

Describe to you what I saw. All I know is that I wasn't supposed to see it. Nobody should ever see something like this. It's not only that it didn't make any sense. I can't tell you why it didn't. I couldn't begin to grasp the images I was seeing. It wasn't graphic or anything, not like that. I just couldn't recognize anything. I could make out things moving, but not in a way that any creature on Earth has ever moved

before. Colors that I'd never seen before. Just thinking about it gives me a splitting headache. This is my best attempt at visualizing it. We have three dimensions here on Earth. We can move forwards, backwards, left right, 72.4 degrees south-west and so on. These things, though, weren't restricted to that. I can't explain it any further.

All I know is that I didn't want to watch one more second. I don't think I would have been able to. I left my room. For the first time in a while, I was planning to leave my house. I needed fresh air to take a walk or something Hell I was thinking about running a marathon

in the middle of the night just to get my mind off that shit for a few hours I was putting on my jacket when I heard a knock at the door I stopped dead in my tracks obviously I wasn't opening up after about a minute

and five more sets of knocks suddenly somebody spoke up Open up We know what she did But we're not here to hurt you We just want to talk The tone wasn't threatening

So eventually I obliged I opened up my door to two tall Slim men in suits They smiled at me Can we come in I still don't know how they found me I thought for sure that I was off the grid. We sat down on the couch.

I guess I was just waiting for answers at this point. One of them looked at me and said, What were you looking for? I don't know, but I'm not going back, I responded. He smiled again, like this is what he wanted to hear. The other one piped up. Who do you work for? His tone was a bit more aggressive.

I just shook my head. Look, I didn't know what I was getting into. I was just looking for anything. They stared at me for a while. I'm not going to tell anybody. Trust me. Finally, they responded. We're not worried about that.

Doubt anyone would believe you. Another smile. Somehow, it felt genuine. We just wanted to know what your priorities were In retrospect that was a very strange question Just do us a favour and we'll leave I perked up Give us the device you used to access it

I didn't ask any questions I ran upstairs and basically tossed them my laptop And they both smirked at me One last time before heading from the door. Just as they're about to leave, one of them turned back. I don't think you need to be told, but don't try this again. And don't show anybody else how to get there either. We'll know. I didn't ask who they were. I'm not sure I would have wanted to know. It's been a week now. I don't go on the internet so much anymore. After this, I'm going to try. I'm going to try.

and forget to try not to think about it anymore. I've started having horrific nightmares. I've been seeing a therapist for that, but I don't think it's helping. Anyways, I'm not going to let this consume the rest of my life. The thing is, I'm afraid that might not be possible. There are some things we aren't supposed to know about. Probably for our own safety and sanity. Don't try and seek them out.

It's better that way. However, it might be a bit too late for me. They say the curiosity killed the cat. It's funny. That almost feels like a personal attack at this point. I haven't forgotten about that night. I mean, it's not just something you can stop thinking about. What the hell was that last thing?

I saw. A strange thing is, it never even comes up in my nightmares. It's always the other stuff. I swear, I can see that dude with no mouth every time I close my eyes. But maybe it's not so weird. My brain couldn't comprehend it the first time, so how could my subconscious produce a recreation? shit, I don't want to think about it anymore, but I can't stop. You see, my problems aren't just in my head anymore. I thought I was done with this shit after the men in black had paid me a visit. I thought it was over. In retrospect, that was just wishful thinking.

No, it was delusional. After what I'd seen, well, I guess it doesn't work like that. I guess the world just isn't that simple. Here's what's been happening. Wednesday. It's been three days since I've gone back to work, and I think I'm being followed. No, I'm sure I am. The thing is, the first time I didn't really notice.

Whoever the hell they are, they've been using different vehicles. Always the same routine. After work, I get into my car and start driving home. Another vehicle always tails me until I turn into my driveway. And then they just drive past. Now, if it happens once, whatever. But three times. Under normal circumstances, I would call it a coincidence.

But for obvious reasons, I can't do that right now. I'm not really sure what the hell they want. Maybe they're trying to monitor me. God, I hope that's all they're trying to do. If that's the case, I'll just lay low and write it out. Just give them what they want. Thursday, this time, I tried to get a glimpse of them in my rear view. The windows were tinted.

Great. again I pulled into my driveway and they kept going now I know I said I was gonna just pride it out but this kind of shit really does take a toll on you I don't want to deal with whatever the hell this is anymore I swear they're following closer and closer each time Friday I did something different today took public transit instead of driving

I've never needed a drink more in my life. So I went to a bar after work. I guess this was more of an experiment to see how closely they've been tracking me. If they're bothered by the waiting, they can go fuck themselves. Yes, I'm still living my life. Although I couldn't keep my eyes off the windows

the whole time I was in there. After getting sufficiently wasted, I flagged a cab down. And, surprise, surprise, there they were right behind us. But here's what I didn't expect. It was the same car from yesterday. Looks like they've given up the incognito act. Not sure how to feel about that.

Something else has changed. They didn't just keep driving this time. After the cab dropped me off. I turned around to see that damn car parked, half a block away from my house. I just went inside. What the hell was they supposed to do? Calling the cops didn't even occur to me. But to be honest, I don't think that would have helped.

It's been three hours now, and they're still here. I haven't been watching them the whole time, so I don't know whether or not they're actually in the car. Not a fun thing to think about. Looks like there's no way in the hell I'm sleeping tonight. It's about 2 a.m. now. I just got a text message. Private number. Here's what it said.

Leave your house. Don't use the front door. They're still there. Come to the all-night diner about five blocks away. Don't think about driving. They'll know. Be quick. They're coming in soon.

Don't get followed and leave your lights on. I froze after reading this. They're coming in. For what? Who the hell's texting me? Now, I don't know what you would have done in this situation, but I took the warning. I was paranoid as hell at this point. Bused and tired.

I put on a jacket and went out my back door. I also took a backpack with my other laptop in it. I'm not sure why, but I felt like I needed to. I waited for a second before I climbed my own fence. When I was sure nobody had noticed, I started heading towards the diner. After about 40 minutes, I finally got there. It would have been shorter, but I pretty much ducked into the bushes every time a car passed. I scanned the patrons.

a table of drunk college kits, a few truckers, and a dude in a hoodie typing away on a computer in the back. He didn't look threatening. Actually, he was pretty scrawny. I made an educated guess. I walked up to his table and sat down. He looked up at me. Hi, what do you want? You texted me. There was a brief pause. I got worried for a second. Jeez, what if it's not him? But he broke the silence.

Right. Did they follow it? No, I don't think so. He nodded. All right. And then he laughed. Like this was supposed to be funny. Man, you screwed up, didn't you?

Hard to disagree with that. What were you doing anyways? What were you trying to find? Nothing. I swear. I just did it for the hell of it, I guess. He stared at me in amused disbelief. Oh, that's fucking lame. Would have been cool if you were a spy or something.

He chuckled again. Look, who are you? How did you know they were after me? Who are they? Anyways. I pelted him with questions. All right, settle down there. I'm not going to tell you who they are. I don't know either.

But I will tell you, they don't have good intentions. Good, fantastic, I thought. Well, how do you know about them? He paused. They came after me. One second I'm reading about demons on the moon. The next I'm getting my door kicked down. This was months ago, so I skipped town.

I was confused. Wait, what do you mean? They tried to kill me, dude. I couldn't believe this. And you were just viewing the links. That was it. You teach other people how to get you there or something. He raised his eyebrow.

No, why do you ask? I was flawed. He didn't do that to me, I said. They just came by, took my laptop and gave me a warning. Now it was his turn to look shocked. Really? He seemed to think about something for a while. He then proceeded to ask me what they looked like.

Just men in suits. I responded. What do they ask you? Was his follow-up question. Again, I just told him. But then I remembered the last thing they said to me. Oh yeah. They also asked me what my priorities were.

Weird-ass question. His face went blank for a second. Yeah, strange, ain't it? What followed was an uncomfortable silence. I finally asked him the thing that had been on my mind ever since that night. Ah, that page with just the four links. What the hell is that supposed to be? He raised his eyebrow and told me he didn't know.

what I was talking about. This is where things got strange. After I'd told him a rough explanation of what I'd seen, his expression changed completely. I could make out a sudden flare in his demeanour. What did you type in the prompt? He asked me. What also seeks me? I answered. I was thoroughly confused at this point. Isn't that what you did as well? He just shook his head. No. He then shut his laptop and stood up. Well, where the hell are you going? I inquired. We've been here too long. Look, I know you have questions, but I can't answer them for you. Go to a motel tonight or something. And just like that, he was gone. What was they going to do? Stop him? I still have no idea who hell this guy is.

The only thing I got out of him was his name. Jackson, and even that's probably fake. Tired as hell and still a little bit drunk. I left the diner and tried to stay hidden as I looked for a nearby motel. Obviously this wasn't fun. Now, here I am, sitting in some sketchy motel at 4.30 a.m.

I can barely keep my eyes. but it also can't help but look over my shoulder every second I'm awake. This is the pinnacle of shitty situations. I guess I'll try and get some sleep. Nothing else I can do. I'll figure it out in the morning. Saturday. Well, I guess it's been Saturday for a while, actually.

It's 8 a.m. now. Barely got any sleep. I have this creeping. I have this creeping, ominous feeling in my gut that something just isn't right. I turned on the TV, anything to clear my mind for a bit. What I saw next did the exact opposite of that. It was a news report. A man strangled to death in a KFC bathroom.

But the person who'd been murdered was one of the guys that came to my house. and took my computer that night. No suspects. I just stared at the screen for the longest time. What the hell was going on? My phone suddenly buzzed a different message from a private number. This is what it said. Go to the swimming pool on Fifth Street. In the men's locker room, go to locker 1-28. The combination The location is 12, 2733. Further instructions are in there. Do so before this text gets intercepted. Don't bring your phone. Of course, how stupid was I? My phone was still on me. Surely whoever was after me would have been able to track me. This had never even crossed my mind. Out of curiosity, I peaked outside my window. Sure enough, the car that's been following me was now parked right there. Luckily for me,

I caught my first glimpse of the driver and the passenger getting out. They were both wearing gloves and one was holding a briefcase. They're walking towards the entrance now. After I've mailed this to myself and a friend, I'm going to need to think quick. I've already dropped my phone in the toilet and I'm going to need to get rid of this laptop next. But people need to know what has happened. If you hear from me again, it looks like I found a way out of this. What a goddamn shit show this has been. I'm currently on a plane headed to Scottsdale, Arizona. I haven't actually been out of state in six years. I thought I would eventually just, well, didn't expect it to be under these circumstances. Anyways, let me back up a bit first. This is what happened.

Right after I disposed of the laptop, I heard my lock being tempered with. Somebody was trying to pick it. Now, I've never been great under pressure, so you could imagine how I was feeling. But the human mind is an interesting thing. When you think you're at the end of the line, your will to live really ramps up. The balcony, I thought. Only way out of this. Without hesitation, I ran out and climbed over it. Fortunately, I was on the second floor, so I didn't break my legs.

Now came a decision. Run or hide. Neither seemed too promising. Shit, I thought. I was panicking. That's when I spotted salvation. A cab parked on the other side of the lot. I bolted for it.

I tapped on the window, startling the driver. Mr. Horovat, he asked. Well, no, it wasn't. But I nodded anyways. You said 8.40, didn't you? He looked at me in confusion. Finished early. Let's go.

There was anxiousness in my voice, but I tried to hide it. last thing I needed was for this guy to think I was a lunatic and drive off. I got in, told him the address, and we got out of there. As we left the lot, I looked back. The two men I saw coming out of the car were now on the balcony where I had just been. I could tell that there was a dead stare directed right at me behind their sunglasses. Despite all this, relief washed over me. It was short-lived though.

I relayed the message I got in my head. Do so before this text gets intercepted. That meant I was still on the clock. If they didn't know where I was headed yet, they soon would. We finally got to the place about 15 minutes later. As soon as I got in, I rushed into the locker room. It was mostly empty. I kept repeating the combination.

in my head. This was the only thing I had. I didn't really care about getting answers before, but it seemed like I had no choice now. I finally found the locker. I don't know why this guy chose such a massive place. Twelve left, 27 right, 33 left. I swung it open. Sitting there was an older Blackberry model and an envelope. I opened it up to find a plane ticket, 2,000 in cash, and a sticky note. In horrific penmanship, the words check phone, password, snake tracks, were scrawled across it. I obliged and booted up the ancient device. I remember being slightly amused. I'd always bag my parents of one of these when I was a kid. This was a far cry from then.

I took a quick look through the phone. It was mostly blank. No apps downloaded, no pictures, nothing. There was only one contact, bluntly named Call Me. So I did. After just one ring, a voice answered. There was a sense of tentativeness in his tone. Somehow, it sounded familiar.

Who is this? Uh, well, how the hell was I supposed to answer this? Should I say my name? I got your message. I finally responded. There was a brief pause. His response caught me off guard. What's your religious affiliation?

His tone had gotten a lot more aggressive. How is he how? asking me this, I thought. I didn't have enough energy to question him. Ray's Protestant, but now agnostic, I guess, was my answer. He seemed to breathe a quick sigh of relief. Then he cut the line. Well, shit. Is this guy nuts or something? My thoughts were interrupted as I got a message. He'd sent me in a dress in a room number. Meet me was the only other thing he'd timed. I looked at it for a second before coming to my senses.

Jeez, I'm an idiot. I should have just taken the stuff and bolted. I heard the door to the locker room swing open. Then footsteps coming towards where I was. Sprinting, actually. I flipped shit. I shoved the stuff into my pocket. and started looking for a way out. Again, there was really only one option here.

I started making a break for the pool entrance. As I ran, fucking gunshot started ringing out behind me. I could tell they were using silences, but boy, that doesn't do a whole lot when you're only 40 feet away. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my side. I saw a bullet penetrate a locker right up ahead. upper heads. God, that didn't miss my much. I ran faster than I thought I was ever able of doing. I almost slipped into the damn pool as I stumbled out. The lifeguard shouted at me as I burst out the emergency exit. I couldn't stop there. I hurried along, making turns every minute, looking over my shoulder the whole time. It's a good thing I was downtown.

I blended into the sea of people easily. At one point I saw a pair of policemen. I considered telling them. I really did. But what's that going to do? They'll search for those two guys, turn up with nothing, monitor my house for a couple of days, and then call everything off. It wasn't going to solve anything.

I finally ducked into a hair salon. I couldn't run anymore. The barber just looked at me like I was insane. Screw it, I thought. Might as well make myself less recognisable while I'm here. I got him to shave it all. I spent the rest of the day making various purchases. I used laptop, new set of clothes, some bandages and a pair of shades.

At least something good came out of this. The flight was supposed to be in a couple of hours at this point. I called a cab and made my way there. And that's where I am now. I've got a long trip ahead of me still. Let's see what happens next. As I made my way out to the airport, I recoiled at the heat. God, it's November.

How does anyone live here during the summer? I called another cab. Got to the address. It was a holiday inn. I laughed to myself. Gee, how ominous, I thought. I made my way up to the room and knocked on the door. A billion thoughts were running through my head. What if this was a trap? I actually thought about just running away for a second, but I realized that wouldn't accomplish shit. After about a minute, the door opened. A wave of surprise washed over me. But,

Well, in retrospect, this is exactly who I should have been expecting. It was the other guy that came to my house that night, the one that didn't get strangled. He didn't look great, though. He had a black eye and a busted lip, and just looked tired in general. He looked me over before gesturing me in. He had a slight lip as he walked. Nice haircut. He muttered softly.

He sat down on the bed and I sat on the couch across from him. There was a long silence. The whole time he just stared at the ground. To be honest, I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing. He finally spoke up. Might as well let you know what's going on. He then proceeded to let it all out.

About four years ago, there was an incident in the Paris catacombs. I got the chills after hearing this. Four teenagers decided it would be a good idea to wander off during a tour. I guess they got lost or something because they weren't there at the end. The police pretty much swept everywhere. No sign of them. Eventually, the government decided to... to set up infrared cameras all around the place, just to see what would turn up.

One day, one of the cameras picked up movement. Nobody anticipated what they were going to see next. It was hell manifested. An abomination of writhing limbs somehow stuck together squirm across the screen. There were four human heads stuck to the top of this thing. You can guess who they were. I was beyond speechless. I thought about that video of the catacons. Glad I didn't stick around for the grand reveal. He continued.

They decided to send elite forces down there to exterminate it. Apparently it took out 12 men before they could put it down. Now, the question was, what were they going to do with the video? They couldn't just get rid of it. But they didn't want anyone to see it either. And this was around the time the whole Snowden thing was going on, so they didn't feel comfortable just using government servers. So, this is where that website you saw comes into play.

They got the most seasoned technical experts they had to bury it somewhere deep in the internet. I'm talking about as deep as they could go. Nobody was supposed to know about it. Nobody was supposed to find it, and nobody was even supposed to know what to look for. I racked my brain over this. Sure, I knew my way around, but there was no way in hell that I was on part with government experts. So, how did I find it? He continued.

It worked well for a while. They made a pact with governments worldwide. Anything they deemed unfit for public knowledge went on that side. There were even precautions. For every real thing on there, they posted four fake ones. For the select few that actually managed to find it. Wait, what? I couldn't believe this.

He just chuckled. Here, most of that stuff you saw was bullshit. Most of that stuff you saw was bullshit. The videos are harder to fake. I didn't know how to feel about this. I was slightly relieved, I guess. Well, just slightly. He kept on.

The logic behind this was that once people found these things, they'd look further into them. However, since they were fabricated, nothing would come up and the page would be disregarded. Just a gag site. At least, that was the idea. I knew where he was getting at What about the people that started looking into the real things?

He sighed. Look, nobody would have given a shit if they'd started spouting it off to their friends or on the internet. People would think they're crazy. It's those damn people that have to just go and find proof. The ones that plan to publicize it. Yeah, they get silenced. I was about to say something. I think he noticed because he cut me off.

Look, don't pull that moralistic shit on me. They didn't have to do it. It was their choice. They were committing a crime. Do you really think public knowledge about any of these things would help anyone? No, it wouldn't. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, all right? To be honest, I had to agree.

But here's where things really went to shit. He went on. Before, there'd be maybe two breeches a month. Then it skyrocketed up to 20, and then 50. They looked into it. Apparently there were rumors circulating around the deep and dark web. A rumor around a page that held secrets nobody was supposed to see. They decided to find out how easy it really was to access this point.

place from just reading the forums and shit. Took the experts about 20 minutes to find it. Just by solving weird fucking riddles and then following these concealed links that would spawn from them. And then there was the final prompt. What do you seek? You've seen it now. I nodded.

Apparently, there's a lot of different answers that could work. Many ways, it didn't make any sense. Everybody that was supposed to know about this was grilled. Somebody had to be doing this, right? Nobody fessed up. Honestly, everybody seemed genuine when they said they didn't do it. They knew the consequences. After a brutally in-depth investigation, nothing was resolved.

And then, it hit them. Back in 2010, they did. It also finalized an experimental AI. I'll spare you the details, but it went off the rails. Nobody could control it. As soon as they thought they could corner it into a virtual trap, it just disappeared. It didn't come up again.

Well, until now. He paused after that, like he was waiting for me to connect the dots. So, you. You think that this AI surfaced and is now directing people there? I asked. He said that he didn't think that was the case. No. He knows it is.

It's the only feasible explanation, he stated. But why? I don't know, he responded. I was starting to get a hunch now about why this was happening to me. These people, they aren't after me because I saw those links, are they? He just nodded. It's what I saw after. And you think this AI has something to do with it?

Another knot. Well, what did I see? He took a second before speaking. I couldn't tell you. There's some things that even I don't know about. All I can tell you is that there are some groups, some people out there beyond any government

that are after this kind of stuff this forbidden knowledge and somehow they know that you've seen it and they want to know what you know and they came after you as well I asked

yeah they know we talk to you a wave of guilt came over me did I get that guy killed However, that guilt quickly turned into frustration. Well, what the hell am I supposed to know? I don't know what the hell it was I saw.

A dry chuckle came out of him. Well, they don't care, do they? They'll jump at anything. And who do you work for? The government? I finally asked. The question had been on my mind since I got here. Well, sort of.

was all he responded with. He got up, taking out a pair of car keys. We've got to figure this out. We've got to go. Go where? I asked. Vegas. In any other situation, I would have been ecstatic. We went outside, and he led me to an older, beat-up, Saddam.

Inconspicuous, he said with a smile. I could tell he was just trying to lighten the men. mood. The drive was long and arduous. We barely spoke. My brain was fried at this point, so I didn't bother asking more questions. I did remember one peculiar conversation we had, though. Listen, if anything happens to me, there should be a file on the Blackberry named contingency. Everything you need to know will be there. I remember feeling flustered. What? What could happen to you? I responded. I don't know. Just in case, I guess. Don't lose that phone. In reality, I knew there were a lot of things that could happen. I just didn't want to admit it.

He woke me up when we arrived at McCarran. I was confused. Do you have plane tickets? Don't need them, he responded. He got out of the car and I followed him in. What happened next was strange. He just walked past everyone. The check-in, security, everybody. They didn't even pay attention to him. Not to me either. That's when I started to wonder who the hell this guy really was.

As we walked past the various stores and restaurants set up near departures, he took a sharp turn. I stumbled keeping up. He walked towards an unassuming door set it right between two shops. He swung it open and I followed. We walked down a bunch of corridors, turning every so often. Various men in suits passed us, but didn't seem to acknowledge our presence. We finally got to another door. This one required a key card. He took one out and scanned it. I didn't realize how huge this place really was until I thought about it after. We must have passed at least another 15 hallways.

Anyways, the door opened up to what looked like a long flight of stairs. We trekked down for about five minutes before we got to what looked like another terminal. Now, it didn't look futuristic or anything. just a regular damn terminal. Surely there's no planes taking off from here, I asked. He said I was right. That's when I noticed the train tracks. Now, we wait.

And he sat down on a bench. Well, great. I'd given up trying to piece this together in my head, so I didn't even bother asking what this place was. let's just see what happens I thought but as I'd soon find out things are not that simple these days I spotted a washroom sign towards the back

and I headed for it as I was washing my hands after finishing up I noticed what seemed to be like a card stuck into the side of the mirror I plucked it out and looked at it it was a standard business card size just plain white with black text but here's what it said

from far and wide we search for meaning as seconds pass since the time of weaning our destiny is sealed we'll face the wraith we don't need hope we have our faith

we will not stop until we are dust all for God in whom we trust. Creepy, I thought. And then I turned it over. In big, bold letters was F-O-T-L-G.

No idea what that's supposed to be. However, in that moment I felt that something wasn't quite right. It's that creeping sensation you get when something just feels off. I needed to tell him whoever the hell he is about this. I opened the door and he was gone.

I searched around the terminal for a bit, but he was nowhere to be found. Hell, there was nobody else here at all. The place started rumbling slightly. The train was coming. Well, I sure as hell wasn't getting on it by myself. I looked around a bit more before I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Great, I thought. he's back.

Then I realized it wasn't just one pair of steps. There were multiple. Instead of seeing a familiar face, I was greeted with four of what I assumed to be men. I couldn't tell because their faces were covered with a burlap sack that had eye holes carved out. Kind of like the one scarecrow wears in Batman begins. The only difference was a symbol that seemed to be spray painted on where the forehead should be.

It was simple, a vertical semicircle with angular arrows going through it. As I recall, the rest of their get-up was normal, just plain street clothes. I was frozen. And then I realized that one of them had liquid dripping off his glove, dark liquid. The next few moments were a blur. I remember the train pulling up and those guys starting to run towards me. I started bolting for the train. It was a weird one.

Only one section and one set of doors. I don't think I saw a driver. As I ran up to it, the doors opened automatically. I remember frantically looking for a shut button, but there wasn't one. I just stared in horror as those freaks got closer and closer. As they got within about ten metres, I closed my eyes and just prayed for the best. I opened them when I heard kicking and banging at the door. It wasn't opening for them.

I watched their crazed eyes follow me as the train started moving. I was safe, but only for now. I turned on the phone again and took a thorough look through it. Sure enough, the text file he mentioned was there. Guess I'll read it soon. After I'm done with this. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what's waiting for me there.

My head's pounding. All I know is that I should just have stayed on Google. Not so sure what to think anymore. I mean, it's not like anything was clear-cut before, but the world just continues to continues to make less and less sense. I've opened up the contingency file. This is what it contained. Veilsafe, agent incapacitated, alias Jack Rust, identity, redacted, custom message. Hello there, if you're reading this, I suppose I'm out of commission. Shame, I guess. I'm going to assume that we've at least made it to the terminal.

Here's what you need to do. Get on the train. Do so as soon as it comes. There's only a 10-second window where it'll open for anybody. Now, it's going to be the fifth. Count them. The fifth stop you'll need to get off at. There won't be any announcements, no indications, nothing.

Do not fall asleep. just pay attention. This train goes fast, but it'll still take a while, so be patient. While you're in there, do not look out of the windows. There's nothing to look at anyways. You'll be in a tunnel. Nevertheless, it's better that you refrain from doing so. You see, we've been having problems recently.

Sometimes, something stares back. at you and you can't really look away. Now what I'm going to mention next isn't likely. I'd say it's a one in a thousand chance, but you don't have the means to deal with it, so you'll need a heads up. If at any one of the stops you see or hear the door opening, hide under the seats. There shouldn't be anybody getting on right now. Just close your eyes and wait for them to leave. Now, if they're still there after the fourth stop, well, I'm sorry.

Once you've arrived at the fifth, get out. It'll be another terminal, a very small one. There should be stairs to the right and a ladder to the left. Do not even think about going down the stairs. As you go up the ladder, it should start getting darker. Don't worry, this is what's supposed to happen. Keep feeling upwards. Eventually you should touch something solid.

If it's a fake rock, push it up and climb out and put it back when you're done. You should now be in a dead wheat field. This is Texas, between Crockett and Southern County, to be specific. Start looking around. There should be a small, abandoned farmhouse visible a few miles in the town. distance. Go towards it. Once you've gone in, look for a basement. The place isn't big, you should find it easily enough. Once you have, go down there. Now, the lights won't work, so it'll be dark. Turn the brightness up on the phone if you have to. You should be looking for

a big, red door. There's only one, so if you think you've found it, you have. There's going to be a numerical set of buttons right by the handle. The password is 5, 3, 2, 5, 6, 7, 8. Now, this part's a doozy. Not that you have to do anything crazy, it's just what I'm, what I'm about to tell you. You see, the reason these people knew where to find you was because they went through us first. We'd been monitoring you ever since you started getting close to finding that page. I didn't tell you because, well, why would I? Apparently there was a mole informant in our midst. I believe that he was a member of a cult that we thought went defunct a while ago.

the faction of the lost gods. Yeah, that's what they call themselves. I won't go into detail on them here. All I'll tell you is that they would go to the ends of the earth to find what you saw that day. That's their one and only objective. They aren't the only group like this. However, they're the one that we're worried about.

Oh yes, once they say, started hearing about those riddles. They thought that this thing was trying to communicate with somebody. Well, with them, trying to lead them there. But this is the part that didn't make any sense. The thing that had stumped all of us. You were never supposed to see what you did. It wasn't supposed to be there. We have no clue why it was. One of the strangest things was that Nobody had even created the page that it popped up on. We don't know how you found it. You were the first person that saw it since we took it off the site.

This is where things got hairy for us. As soon as the informant noticed this, we called in a raid on our Texas headquarters. That's the one you're going to. Gee, it was a massacre. They stole our equipment and started tracking you down themselves. Luckily for me, I wasn't there for that. I was already on my way to you. Now, we don't work for the government, we just work with them. But these politicians, they have a real antiquated code of ethics.

A real antiquated idea of how to fix things. You see, these cult members aren't so easy to find. If they were, they were, they were. would have been neutralized a long time ago. Because of that, there exists a contingency protocol for this exact purpose. Blackout is what they call it. If they ever found out this group had any chance of finding whatever it was that you saw, they'd put it into motion. Trust me, that's not going to be fun for anybody. They aren't willing to take any more risks. That's why we didn't tell them. Why we didn't tell most people in our own organization, they might spill the beans. However, if you're still reading this, that means desperate measures can wait.

Once you've gone in, go directly straight until you've reached what looks like a control loop. In the far right corner, there should be an older desktop mounted to the wall. Luckily, that's one of the few things they didn't take. Booted up. It's going to prompt you for a password. Type in Primordial. The trap door should open in the middle of the room. Walk down those steps and you should find yourself facing a bunch of filing cabinets.

Start searching through them. You're looking for a folder under the name Kane Hunter. He's an old friend. ordered alphabetically so it shouldn't be that hard. That folder should contain his address. I understand that this is a lot of work for just one piece of information. However, this guy moves around so much I just didn't bother keeping up. You need to go and find him. He'll have the answers that I don't. At this point, he's our best shot. Tell him Ben sent you. I'll leave you with this message.

Mankind must not go back to hiding in fear. No one else will protect us, and we must stand up for ourselves. This government protocol is not the way we go. Good luck. That was the end of the message. This...

This was a lot to take in, to say the least. But it sounded like I had a job to do. Luckily, nothing else got on the train with me. It took a while, but I finally got to the basement door in the farmhouse. As soon as I walked in, a wall of stench hit me. I reflexively gagged. A massacre. Those words rang through my head.

I found a light switch on the wall and flicked it, as the stale, incandescent light washed over the place. I understood what he meant. It was a massacre indeed. And nobody was there to clean it up. Holding my breath, I stepped over the decaying, uniformed corpses. As much as I could try to avoid looking at them, I couldn't stop myself from glancing down every so often.

I was about to pass out once I reached the control room. I followed the instructions and found the folder. As soon as I did, I got the hell out of that. Once I was back outside, I read through it. Kane Hunter was 45 years old, and he lived in Hong Kong. Oh, shit, I thought. I was starting to hate travelling. It took me a while to find a road.

I eventually managed to hitchhike into a town. From there, I got another ride to Dallas Fort Worth World International. That's where I am right now. I'm tired beyond belief at this point. And it doesn't help that the back of my damn neck's itching like hell. The flight was long, so I got to contemplate the past week. There were a lot of unanswered questions still lingering, and I really didn't know what to expect from Kane Hunter. I remembered that train terminal. The card I found in the washroom F-O-T-L-G

Faction of the lost gods Shit I finally arrived and cabbed to this guy's address I was running low on funds at this point During the drive I watched as the glimmering lights of the city move past me On the surface The world just seemed so straightforward

Yeah, I guess it really starts unraveling when you look into it. I got dropped off at an unassuming apartment complex. I guess you could call it middle class. I buzzed his room number. It took a while, but finally somebody answered. Who's this? He sounded surprised, as if he wasn't used to visitors. I took a second to think about what I was going to say.

Ben sent me. I need help. It was my ultimate response. Almost instantly, I heard the front entrance unlock. Well, here we go, I thought. I started making my way up to the seventh floor. As I was about to knock on his door, it opened up. A rather unkempt, middle-aged man pulled me into his room. looking extremely anxious he paced around as I took a seat he finally stopped turning to me what do you mean you need help his otherwise deep voice croaked as he said this i knew that i was about to tell him something he didn't want to hear i saw that thing and now there's people after me his facial expression contorted as he heard this. Who's after you? Do you know? His speech was quick and discombobulated. The faction of the lost gods, I think that's what they called, was my response. Now his face

went completely pale. Ah, they're back. I flinched as he cursed loudly right after. He sat down, bearing his face into his hands. He looked back up at me. What happened to Ben? My silence was enough of an answer. He just nodded. He was a good guy. I just nodded back in response.

I heard him mumble something under his breath, but I couldn't make it out. Now it was time for me to ask the big question. The question that nobody seemed to have the answer to. What was it that I saw? He just stared at me for a few seconds, and then he finally spoke up. I used to work on a space station named Kronos I. Heard of it? No, I hadn't, and that's what I told him.

Well, that's because you're not supposed to. Now, I really had no idea where this was going. He went on to tell me about how the Kronos 1 used to orbit space 1,500 kilometers away from the ISS. It was meant to be used for navigation and communication, he said. That's what they told us anyways. They were doing other stuff up for sure. Why else would they not tell the public it existed?

Anyways, it didn't last long. One day we get a message from NASA. There was a signal of sorts coming from somewhere deep in space. Well, more like some kind of anomaly, something that didn't make sense. They didn't elaborate on what that was supposed to mean. Anyways, they estimated that it came from beyond the Kuiper Belt. All of this was strange, of course, so they decided to check it out. He paused, letting off a quick sigh as he did some.

They sent an interstellar probe towards the signal. It was estimated to reach there in about nine years. And it just so happens that about nine years later, I'm back up in space after taking a hiatus on Earth. While there, we get another message. The probe had reached where the signal had approximately been emanating from. They were going to transmit a feed for us to watch. I raised my eyebrow. He just chuckled at my confusion.

Yeah. We've come a lot farther in terms of space technology than the public is led to believe. At this point, I don't think you should be surprised. Anyways, everybody's crowded around the monitors, waiting to see what the hell the probe kicked up. Keep in mind that there were only ten people in the room at the time. It was too tight to fit more, so we were going to be the first ones aboard who would see it. The transmission eventually blinked onto the screen. He stopped, rubbing his temple as he did so. It almost seemed like it hurt him to think about it.

Everything went by quick. It only took a few seconds for the screaming to start. People were banging their damn heads on the floors and walls. Yeah, it was chaos. Everybody lost their minds after seeing what was on that monitor. The only reason I survived was because I didn't actually get a glimpse of it. I was still in the bathroom when the transmission came through. I got out as soon as I heard the commotion.

I still passed out, though. Guess I'm not so good with the blood. All I remember before hitting the floor was seeing a lone person still glued to the screen. He was the only one watching at this point. When I woke up, they started asking me questions. But I had no answers for them. I didn't see it. Wait, so what was the cause of death for them?

I asked. Suicide. Mostly blunt force, he responded. Everybody in that room found a way to kill themselves. Geez, what the hell? I thought. Was this really what I'd seen as well? So, what happened to the other guy?

The guy you said was still watching. He passed out as well, but only for a minute. Other than that, he said he felt fine, never even really brought it up. When they'd asked him what he'd seen, he'd just shrug and say that he didn't know what they were talking about. I knew him, actually. His name was Blake. He'd always been... strange guy. There was another pause. I kept trying to work out this in my head. Cain kept going.

But that wasn't the end of his story. I perked up. He got fired soon after. He seemed to just stop caring about anything that was going on around him. He'd make these, well, strange, dark outbursts every so often. He would skisks scare the hell out of everybody he worked with. He was going insane. After his last day, he went off the grid. His family, the few friends he had, none of them knew where he went or where he was going. There were no traces of him anywhere. But unbeknownst to everyone, he was going around the country, recruiting people into some cult that he created. You can guess what it was called. It didn't take me long to put it together, the faction of the lost gods. That's right, he continued.

He'd even written and released a manifesto explaining why this was necessary. He'd go on about how there was something inherently wrong with the inner workings of our external world, and that we weren't even supposed to exist. Apparently our system was corrupted, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. he was a bad shit or maybe it's what he'd seen that had made him that way he went on to explain how Blake had been looking for something the whole time he'd been recruiting members

he'd been looking for the probe footage you see that probe is still there transmitting whatever the hell that thing is to a feed that only the government had access to I'll assume you've seen the site where all the sensitive knowledge goes. I nodded.

Wouldn't be here if I didn't. Well, at first, that's where they stuffed it. According to them, a few hackers banging their heads on keyboards every now and then wasn't that big of a deal. But after what happened on Kronos, almost nobody dared to look at it. The few who tried, well, you know this story. But here's when things got incomprehensibly fucked. What I'm about to tell you, almost nobody knows about it.

That includes 99% of government agents. He took out a cigarette carton and lit one up. He took a long, heavy drag before continuing. After about six months, I went back to the Kronos. They offered me a severance package, you just retire and keep my mouth shut, but I decided against it. I was too cocky. I tried to pretend like what I saw didn't affect me. That shit was a mistake. He ashed his cigarette and lit another one. Well, it was a routine workday. We were finishing up some maintenance when we heard a deep

humming sound coming from somewhere outside the station. It wasn't like anything we'd ever. heard before. Even now I can't replicate what it sounded like in my head. It was just, well, strange. A bunch of people started staring out of the windows just to see what was happening. I didn't join in. After that pro-footish, my curious side pretty much disappeared. However, what happened next made me question what kind of universe we really live in. I was eating lunch in the mess hall when I heard commotion coming from the hallways. I would have checked it out, but that's when the screaming started. It wasn't normal.

Honestly, it didn't sound like anything that a human being should have been able to produce. I remember looking at everyone inside the room. They weren't moving. They were all on the same page. A couple of guys actually barricaded the entrance with chairs. However, we couldn't keep our eyes off of it. There was some kind of light bleeding in from the cracks under and above the door. But something was wrong about it.

The light wasn't any colour we'd ever seen before. The familiarity of these descriptions got my mind racing. This was it, wasn't it? This is what I had seen. He continued. I remember getting lightheaded just from looking at it for a few seconds. The next hours were excruciating. The screams didn't stop.

Our collective sanity was being pushed to the brink. We all just sat, fingers in our ears and our eyes closed, waiting for the end of this shit. Eventually, the door opened up and we were escorted out. I remember looking around to see the white walls of the station, now stained with red. Ninety percent of the crew died that day. We had questions, of course, about what had happened. However, everybody that would have known was now dead.

He leaned back in his chair, fished another cigarette out of the carton. This time, it was accompanied by a... a swig of whiskey. He went on. I arrived back on earth shortly after. This time they didn't offer me my job back. Just a severance check and a non-disclosure. Though it's not like I cared at this point. Would have quit regardless. Now, here's the connection to what you saw. That day, I was at my house, mulling over my life. Then I heard it. a knock at my door. It was Ben. He asked me what the hell had happened on Kronos. I told him. But the thing I didn't understand is how the hell he knew that something had even happened.

He'd never even worked with Nasser. So, I asked him about it. He said that a wave of distress calls from the station all came through at once. They all described exactly what I had gone through. The problem was they had no means of dealing with this. It would have taken too long to organize a rescue mission. Everyone was at a loss for what to do. That's when the higher-ups came up with something off the cuff. They had a hunch. Well, it was actually more of an experiment.

They checked up on the website. Sure enough, it had been breached once again. somebody was viewing the probe footage they tracked it down to an abandoned warehouse in San Antonio which is where Ben was at the time at that point he was just a field agent so they contacted and told him to go check it out he drove there along with a SWAT team

when they arrived it it was a bloodbath they started getting shot as soon as they wore who ever was doing it was trying to protect something. Half the team was killed before they managed to secure the place. They detained the shooters and started sweeping the rest of the building. There was nothing on the upper floors, but then they got to the basement. There was just one person down there, sitting in front of a computer monitor. They approached him slowly, barking at him to put his hands up.

He ignored everything. The SWAT member eventually got close to him. That's when he started screaming out of nowhere and shot himself in the head. There's no doubt that he got a glimpse of the screen. Nobody approached him after that. They all just kept pointing their weapons at him and telling him to turn around.

The guy eventually did. He said that it was Blake. Ben recognized him because he'd become infamous around government circles. He said that there was blood seeping from his eyes and nose. Skin pale as the moon. He only said one thing. Kane stopped inside. Took a big swig of the whiskey and looked at me dead center.

You can't stop it. If this doesn't happen today, it'll happen eventually. Our reckoning has yet to come. Ben said that this chilled him to the bone. He told me that Blake had set in such a tone and conviction that just made him feel despair and emptiness inside. He shot him right after that, as well as the monitor. They rounded up the rest of the cult members

and took them in for questions. They wouldn't cooperate, obviously. They all just repeated the same words over and over. Some weird fucking motto or something. Anyways, the higher-ups got there a couple of hours later. They congratulated Ben and told him to go home. The distress reports had finally stopped coming in from Kronos. Wait, I interjected.

The reports. Did they stop as soon as Blake got shot? Kane chuckled. It was a dry tone. No humor in it. Yeah, he continued. You're figuring it out, aren't you? Here's the conclusion they came to.

Whatever that probe was picking up, whatever Blake was watching, it was watching him back. Somehow, they were communicating. with each other. This was horrifying to think about. Kane continued. He was sending something towards Earth, something beyond our comprehension that we were never meant to see. Who the hell knows what it wants from us? Probably nothing good. Anyways, they decided to make sure that nobody else ever saw it again. They disconnected from the probe, stopped the stream altogether. I'm sure.

the thought process was that if we don't seek it out, then it won't notice us. Wait, what? I nearly shouted him. Wait, what? I nearly shouted at him. How the hell did I see it then? That's what I was wondering, he said. You got an answer?

I tried telling him about the AI, but the words just stumbled out of my mouth into an incoherent mess. He just looked at me in confusion. An AI. What the hell are you talking about? He asked. On that website, there was another prompt. It brought me here. That's how I found it. Prompts? What are you talking about? Screw it, I thought. He clearly didn't know about it. There were still too many questions pressing against my brain anyways, so I didn't linger on this. How many people do you know that have seen it? I asked. He scoffed. Well, the ones that are still alive. That would be you.

This sent chills down my spine. He went on. Which begs the question. How long did you look at it for? Just a couple of seconds, right? right? No, I responded. Nearly half a minute. After I said this, his face went blank. I just shrugged. Look, I don't know what to make of any of this. It was all I managed to stammer out. With a shocked, contemplative expression on his face, Kane just looked up at the ceiling. As he did this, the words from the contingency message rang through my head. You were the first one that had seen it since we took it down. But why me? Why was I so special?

Why did I have to see it? Kane started speaking again. Computers may know more about humanity than we ever will. I just stared at him in confusion. What an odd statement to make. He went on. If it actually was an AI that sent you that page, maybe it means something.

Mean something? Like what? I retorted. Nobody else seems to be able to handle seeing the thing. But like Blake, you appear to be an exception. I really thought about this. He was right, wasn't he? Whatever the hell this thing is,

it seemed to push people to the brink of insanity after just a few seconds of exposure. I mean, I sure as hell didn't know what I saw, and I certainly didn't like seeing it, but I was more or less in a normal state of mind. However, there was one more question I couldn't ignore, those members of the cold that were detained. They weren't the only ones, were they?

There were other members. Kane nodded. They tried to tell themselves that they, were it that this was done. That's what everybody wanted to believe. Underestimating Blake's influence was the biggest mistake they could have made. At this point, I didn't want to think about it anymore. I needed to take a break from this discussion. I asked him if there was somewhere I could rest.

He told me there was a spare mattress in the closet. I need to sleep. but not before I finish getting this out. A million thoughts are still running through my head as I write this. Ben said that this guy was our best shot, but nothing's been resolved. Hell, what was he supposed to do? Maybe this blackout contingency was necessary. If everything I have heard is true, it might be the only option.

This itch on the back of my neck is killing me. Anyways, it looks like I'm going to have to make a decision soon. Update. Kane and I just heard somebody trying to open the door. He took a look through the people and told me there were people with weird masks standing outside. Oh, this is not good. It didn't take long for them to break down the door. The thing is, jumping out the windows wasn't an option here.

I tried opening a vent in the washroom, but they were already inside the apartment. I remember seeing Kane fish a pistol out of a kitchen cabinet before getting bodied by some behemoth of a man. This all happened in what felt like seconds. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the butt of a rifle coming towards my face. I awoke some time later, face down on a dusty floor in a dim, empty room. my head was pounding I wasn't restrained but there was nowhere to go

one door leading out and it was dead bolted I turned my head to see Kane pacing on the other side look I didn't lead them here I tried to reason with him he looked pissed

oh I don't doubt that he responded not on purpose at least. They know that I can't help them. Would have tried a while ago. He followed it up with a sigh. This is fucked. I turned away from him and started feeling around the walls. I was under the delusion that there would be some secret way out. Well, a delusion it was. After my futile attempt to escape. I just sat down in a corner. There was no good ending to this, I thought. Cain seemed to read my mind because he chimed in. You know, you can't tell them how to get there. He looked at me

again. This time his demeanor was dead, serious. You can't let that thing loose over here. That's not an option. Initially, I was annoyed. He was asking me to take what was surely torture and then death. But then, I thought about it. This was bigger than me. There was no way out of it. The door suddenly swung open. About five people stepped in, all sporting those damned bags over their heads.

Two had shotguns. Ah, you're away. good said the one at the front I instantly recognized that voice was it really he slipped it off revealing a big shit-eating grin it was Jackson it didn't have to be like this you know you could have just told me how to get there I thought back to the conversation we'd had in the diner I clearly told him what I'd entered at the prompt. Did that not work for him? But I put that thought to the back of my head. At that moment, I was nothing but angry. Like it would have mattered. You psycho-fucks would have ruined the world

regardless. He just sighed. Ruin? Look, I don't expect you to understand, only to cooperate. But this world, it isn't right. It was a mistake. So you just follow the orders of some crazy dead guy, huh? Kane laughed. It sounds like you guys are the mistakes. One of the men walked up and whipped the shotgun barrel across his face. There was a terrible cracking sound as he fell to the floor. He started coughing up blood. Why don't you guys just kill me?

I can't help you. Wouldn't even if I could, he muttered as he sat against the wall. Jackson chuckled. No, this is something we all need to see. The more people who stand witness, the better. It's the greatest salvation anybody could ask for. He was just bloviating nonsense at this point. I didn't feel like arguing, though.

There was no changing his mind. I did have questions, though. How'd you find me? It doesn't make any sense. He walked over to me and reached behind my ear. I felt a sharp pain at the back of my neck as he pulled out what looked like a tiny computer chip. Oh, so that's what that was. I just let out an exasperated sigh. Funny enough, this was.

an hour doing, he said as he flicked away. What the hell are you talking about? I spat at him, but then I thought about it. When those guys were shooting at me in the locker room, I swear I felt something hit my neck. But in the moment, well, you just don't care. Jackson smiled as he saw the horror on my face. We can thank those guys for that.

it's just a shame they won't be here to see it. Everybody always resists. Only the lucky ones truly get it. I record Ben's message. A lot of groups are after this, but we're only afraid of one. Who were they? I asked him. Don't know, he replied. It never mattered anyways.

I was reliving the whole. journey in my head at this point, thinking about where I messed up. How'd you get to the terminal? You needed a key card. Jackson pulled one out of his pocket. Yeah, I forgot. They killed everybody you had one. I was beyond frustrated at this point, not even just at him, at this whole damn situation. This thing that you want to send over here, do you even know what it is? He paused for a second.

A look of pure contemplation was plastered across his face. I'll tell you what Blake told me. It is not for us to know. We don't belong here. And every second we remain, the universe deteriorates. We need to correct this. It's funny. These guys actually thought they were after something good. Blind faith, I retorted. You guys are pathetic.

Jackson scrunched his nose at this. His expression contorted into one of pure rage. That's enough. He gestured to the two men standing beside him. They started dragging me out of the room. As we left, I could hear Cain screaming at me, screaming that I couldn't give in. I tried wrestling the shotgun away, but it was a pathetic attempt. There was nothing I could do. They tossed me into another room. This time it was larger.

I guess the rest of the cult was also in there, because about 15 people stood, lining the perimeter of the room. all were those bags over their heads. There was a computer set up in the middle. Wires running everywhere. They forced me into a chair in front of it and strapped my legs down. Go ahead. Jackson's voice echoed from behind me. Everybody's waiting.

I refused at first. I really did. But I guess that's what they were expecting. First came the waterboarding. I don't know if you've experienced it, but it definitely wasn't pleasant. However, it also wasn't enough. What came next almost was, however. One of the men took out a butterfly knife and started slicing my pinky toe off.

Slowly. He did this over the course. of what felt like an hour. Then came the salt. It was pain that transcended anything I'd ever felt before. He finally finished up by cauterizing it. You have nine more. Jackson's voice oozed from behind me. You can end this any time. You can die the way you're supposed to. Hearing me gave me more motivation to tell him to fuck off. But I'll admit, I was nearing my breaking point. The next part was excruciating beyond belief. They started scraping the skin off of my shoulder. It wouldn't have been that bad if it wasn't for the boiling water they poured on it

afterwards. All right, I finally blurted out. They stopped and stopped. started applying some cream to the burn. It was pure ecstasy. I heard Jackson breathe out what sounded like a sigh of relief. Smart guy. This was all a ruse, however. I just needed a break for a second. My plan was to get the prompt and then flip the damn table over.

If they were going to torture me to death, I was going out with a bang. the human spirit is hard to break. A billion thoughts ran through my head as I went through the whole fucking process again. Memories of family and friends. Better times. I solved those riddles and encryptions until that damn question popped up again.

Quid, Quiris. I was about to enact my spree of destruction when I noticed something. something small in the corner of the monitor. It was hard to read, so I had to squint. It was text, just two words. In English this time, Don't worry.

I just stared at it for a second. What the hell was that supposed to mean? That's when I came to the realization. I recalled what Ben had told Kane. It was only Blake sitting at that computer in the basement. He was the only one watching. Everybody who saw this thing went insane and killed themselves. Somehow, the AI also knew this.

I smiled to myself. I felt somebody poke at my back. Don't tell me you've changed your mind. We can change it back. Jackson's voice rung out "'Don't worry,' I responded. I answered the prompt question. What also seeks me?

The familiar list of links soon appeared in front of me. I started scrolling down, clicking on various links until a familiar question appeared in the corner. I clicked, yes. And just like that, there they were. The four links. I leaned back in the chair. Well, there it is.

First link's the one you're looking for. I watched as they all gathered around me. This is the first time you're going to see it, I asked. I could see Jackson nodding out of the corner of my vision. Blake did make one mistake. He thought that we weren't ready. We were always right. ready. They unstrapped me from the chair. Jackson put his hand on my shoulder in appreciation.

You don't know this, but you just did something good. Spare me, I responded. Is Ben still alive? I needed to know. Jackson nodded. Well, where is he? Why does it matter at this point? I just want to to tell him to brace himself. I owe him that, at least. Jackson sighed. He took out a piece of paper with an address and postal code scribbled onto it and handed it to me. Good luck with that. He gestured to a couple of armed members. Follow him out in case he lied again. They obliged. I could barely hold in my grin as they walked me out. They closed the door behind me and trained their shotguns on me. There was only one thing I could do at this point.

I just waited, listening intently. There were a few muffled voices before silence. I started counting. One, two, three, four. And then came the screams. Even though I was expecting it, I still flinched. Kane was right. Those sounds should not have come out of a human being.

The two guys guarding me flipped shit. One of them ran inside and the other stumbled on his feet. He was looking back and forth between me and the room. So I disarmed him easily, shot out his knee-cats. I guess he hit his head hard on the floor because he went limp. That's when the cacophony of gunshots started ringing out from inside the room. It lasted for about ten seconds and then was followed by silence. With a shotgun in hand, I walked inside.

Bodies were lying, haphazardly scattered around the room. Pieces of the burlap sacks they were wearing were now stuck to the blood-stained walls. The monitor was face down on the floor. shards of screen everywhere. There was only a squirming figure left. Jackson, I guess he really was dedicated to this. He was muttering something incomprehensible as he snaked his way towards a stray pistol.

I thought about finishing the job for him, but that had just be putting him out of his misery. Instead, I went around the room and took the clips and shells out of every weapon. He gave me one last look before I left. His kin was paler than snow, arms and legs trembling, expression, a mix of shock, dismay and confusion.

It looked as if he was pleading for something. I just flipped him off and closed the door behind me. This is what he wanted. Wasn't it? I walked down to the room Kane was still in. I picked up the keys from one of the bodies. At this point the cream on my shoulder

as well as the adrenaline had started wearing off. A wave of pain hit me all at once. I stumbled a bit before I got to the door and unlocked it. Kane jumped when I walked in. He seemed relieved at first, but then horrified. Did you? The words faltered out of his mouth.

I just shook my head. He exhaled in solace. He wanted to take a quick peek inside the room before we left, just to make sure. Jackson was still in there, twitching violently in the corner, facing away from us. That was the last.

I ever saw of him. Yeah, this will be a pleasant surprise for somebody, Kane said before closing the door. We got out of there after that. Turns out we were in the basement of some abandoned factory outside city limits. We hitchhiked back into town. We got to Kane's apartment where he decided to buy me a plane ticket back. At least I could do, he stated.

So, where too? You said you were from Delaware. I looked down at the address in my hand. No, I need to go to Vegas first. Kane chuckled. Drinking away this whole experience, huh? Well, understandable. He started booking a ticket.

Do you want to see him? I asked as I was finishing up. He raised his eyebrow. See who? Ben. He paused, he paused, staring at the ground for a second before answering. No, not really. He looked back at me.

Tell him I wish him the best, though. Tell him to be careful. He set it in such a somber tone. I could tell he just wanted to be done with the whole thing. To never think about it again. Seeing Ben wouldn't help that. He gave me some cab money before he exchanged goodmise. I had to ask him one last thing before leaving.

You think that's the end of them? He thought about it for a second before answering. It has to be. I started heading for the airport. I've got to say. It does feel weird walking around with a toe missing. I'll get used to it, I suppose. Once in Vegas, I took another cab to the airport.

The other cab to the address. It was a run-down house in the middle of a sketchy neighbourhood. I hurried in and started searching. I must have looked through the entire place beforering a soft groaning from the basement. I hurried down there and started yelling Ben's name. The groaning got louder. It was coming from a room in the back. I tried the handle, locked.

I eventually just kicked it down. Dust blasted me in the face as I walked inside. Ben was lying there on a dirty mattress in the middle of the room. He had bruises all over his face and looked like he hadn't eaten in days. There were packets of instant ramen strewn all over the floor. He turned over to look at me and smiled. He uttered out. I looked around the room.

There was a small television set, smashed onto the floor. They wanted me to watch it on the news. He grinned again. Like hell I was. I picked him up and let him out of there. It's all right. I'm good. He said as he stabilised himself. Once we were outside, he took a deep breath.

God, I don't even want to think about what I caught in that dusty ass room. I laughed. This shit was fine. Finally over, I thought. Ben got himself checked and patched up. I also got my shoulder looked at. We ended up hitting the slots, going to a seafood buffet and a karaoke bar after. It was the best time I've had in a while. I was getting ready to leave the morning after. Ben said that he had work to catch up on. Truth be told, so did I. I mean, it's not like my day job will be waiting for me when I got back. You never actually told me who you work for or what

you do, I said to him as we were getting ready to leave the hotel. He chuckled. Yeah, that was on purpose. Oh, come on. After all this, you're still going to keep it a secret. I gave him a casual nudge. After all this, you still want to know more. You pushed me back. It was my turn to chuckle. Touche. The cabaret to McCarron was quiet. So it was the walk to the terminal. I was headed back to Delaware,

and he was going to South Korea. He finally spoke up about two minutes before his boarding call. I'd like to think that I'd do my best to try and protect the world from the strange shit that dwells within it, to try and secure the stuff out there that humanity shouldn't. never see to put them away in containment forever. He slapped my back before getting up to leave. Keep in touch yet? You know how to find me. And just like that, he was gone. I waited about 30 more minutes before my flight was ready to go. I slept like a baby the whole time I was in the air.

When I actually got to my house, there was police tape surrounding it. I knocked on my neighbour's door to ask what had happened. I mean, I already knew. But I had to feign some kind of ignorance. She seemed surprised when she opened the door for me. Apparently, she'd seen two men entering my house and called the cops that night I'd went to the diner. Everybody's been looking for you. Where the hell did you go?

Um, sightseeing, I answered. Did they catch them? No, she responded. But they found these weird-ass cards all around your house. It said like flut-flot-log. It said like feet-lock on the back or something. Who the hell were those nut cases? I chuckled to myself and thanked her.

After explaining the situation to the cops and giving a statement, I was finally back to square one. Normalcy. I found a new job soon after and settled back into a situation. a routine. It was all over. But even though I try not to think about it anymore, it seems like a daunting task. Sometimes I lie in bed, just staring at the ceiling and trying to picture what I'd seen in my head. I still had too many questions. There were three other links, weren't there? What the hell were those? I tried to tell myself that I didn't care, but that

was a lie. I think about what Kane said to me on a daily basis. You and Blake are the exceptions. Maybe it means something. Hmm, maybe it did mean something, I feel that sight calling to me constantly. I know it sounds strange, but I can sense it. Those links are just waiting to be seen by somebody, by me. The AI still tries to communicate as well. I've been getting small messages on the corner of my screen. Even when I browse a surface web now, are you satisfied?

Is what they say. Good question. Was I? The White Van Man, Part 1. Before we begin, I need to. to declare that I'm not using any real names in this story as I don't want to give away my new identity and break my witness protection, WITSEC agreement. Anonymity is definitely preferred in my particular situation.

I'll also not be referencing the year or particular area this took place. I'm writing this out as I think it would be therapeutic for me to process this traumatic event by putting it down on paper in words. Initially I never intended to post this on the internet, but I'm hoping it helps in any sense. small way to shine a light on some of the disappearances in my area. Oh, I am bound by the law to keep my mouth shut on this subject as the investigation is ongoing and highly classified due to its sensitivity, whatever that means. Oh, and don't be a wise ass and try and find anything in the media on this. It's all been suppressed to protect

vulnerable parties. And again, I don't know what our handler meant by that. But anyway, I'm speaking out because I've had enough. done living my cozy new life while other people are still at risk, still in danger. The people who live in the country where I grew up need to be aware and vigilant of this ongoing problem. But at this moment, its specifics are kept tightly under wraps by the FBI. Remember, to keep your kids and loved ones close and in clear sight. Oh, anyway, rant over. Here's my story. I'm going to call myself Olivia Matthews.

At the time of these events, I was 12 years old and two weeks from my 13th birthday. I always felt mature for my age, but even so, everyone says, looks wise, I didn't look a day over nine. It was Thursday, the 27th of June, and I'd just finished school for the day. There wasn't anything different about the day itself. There were no feelings of being watched, no overwhelming sense of dread or impending sense of doom, no warning signs whatsoever. I thought I was just a normal kid with a normal life. Now, on a side note, I think everyone's guilty of hearing horrible things on the news that

have happened to regular people all over the world, such as abductions and murders. We've at no point ever truly thinking it would happen to you. Perhaps we become slightly more vigilant when walking home and make sure to check our door locks for a few nights afterwards, until the novelty wears off and the complacency once again sets in. Right, back to the story. So, on this particular day, I just got within 150 hours of my house and was just just Just turn in the corner to enter my street.

When a man fell in step with me from behind. He literally seemed to come from nowhere, and I certainly didn't hear his footsteps while he was approaching me. Well, hello there, he said with a smile. It wasn't a sinister smile, but not a friendly one either. It was a type of smile you'd do if you were showing someone what a smile was. They lacked emotion behind it. It seemed completely put on.

it was a mask to hide the real face that lurked beneath. Hi, I murmured back after a brief scan of my mind to figure whether or not I actually knew this man. I looked him up and down as if doing a full body scan would help me to try and put a name to the grinning face, glaring into my soul, and I noticed that he was dressed in all dark clothing. Dark jeans, dark long-sleeved shirts, black thick shoes. He looked around mid to late at the late. 30s, a medium-length greasy slick back hair. His superficial smile branded a single row of off-color white teeth with a gold pre-molar tooth on the left side which seemed to sparkle in the

mid-afternoon sun, almost matching his charming act. He continued to make eye contact. He didn't have what you call an intimidating physique, but he was just under six foot and had a rugged look to his face and hands. Well, I couldn't take him in a fight, let's put it that way. At first, his presence wasn't a threatening one, at least not to me at the time anyway. But I figured then, and I definitely know now, that this wasn't normal. I'd racked my mind over and over, and was now confident I didn't know this man. I'd started to realize he'd waited until I'd walked far enough to no longer be surrounded by other people from the bus, and I'd just turned the corner onto my cul-de-sac and was within

70 yards of my house. my empty house with no one home to rescue me i tried not to panic initially i told myself that he'd only said hi and we were in broad daylight but then things took a turn towards a sinister and he started asking questions that got more and more alarming at first it was just hmm it's a lovely day to day isn't it and how's school treating you stuff like that i just answered yes fine avoiding eye contact hoping that you get the hint as I had no interest in talking to this stranger but then his approach changed I like your pigtails they make you look real cute he said this in a deep voice and his breathing had increased and then he added so do you live in one of these houses this honestly

made my toes curl in my little white dolly shoes and this is when things started to turn south I should mention on my cul-de-sac there are only five houses, so I couldn't lie to him, as why else would I be walking there? His question seemed completely rhetorical. He'd obviously followed me and watched where I walked before he approached me. Is your mama your daddy home? Yes, I lied, but in my panic I hadn't realized I'd already pulled my keys out of my pocket in case I needed to get in my door quick. And I could tell his predatory instincts had sensed this already. I could almost feel a hunger inside him grow as he realized he'd caught me out,

and also he'd noticed me staring at my own front door out of anxiety. Damn, I'd messed up. A couple with the fact he'd already guessed that I had the keys to open the door, he knew there wasn't anyone there to let me in. He knew I'd be alone in that house. His voice seemed to tremble now with a poorly restrained excitement that made my blood run cold. His questions became more alarming by the second.

and um my car's broken down and i need to call a cab he seemed to emphasize the word need may i come to your house and use your phone i started to sweat i knew this was a lie why would the only person you asked to help be a defenseless eleven-year-old girl i felt my body start to pump adrenaline i was in real danger my body knew it before i did thinking back there were so many red flags about this man i should have realized sooner i don't think the man blinked once during the whole exchange and every time he finished a sentence his face would reset to that same put-on smile his eyes had nothing to them he would look at me and have that look in his eye like a wolf looks at a wounded deer right before it drags its screaming carcass into the woods and tears it to pieces i remember feeling like prey that day every time that man looked at me. I was desperate. I needed to think of something. So I pathetically attempted the stranger line and told him my mom doesn't like me talking to strangers. He scoffed and answered with fluency that his name was Dave, and they asked me my name. I said, Gina, yes, I lied again. The way he grinned and said, well then, Gina, now we

introduced were no longer strangers. Two things haunted me about how he reacted. The fluency of his comeback almost suggested he'd been confronted with this line before, and the way he said Gina, as if he knew I was lying and was humoring me, or maybe he just didn't care, as soon I would become just a statistic. I tried to think on my feet again to try to get him to leave me alone, or at least think I wasn't as easy pickings as he clearly thought. I needed to think of something that would make him believe that someone was home. Or maybe my brother's up. He works nights, but he gets up around now so you can borrow his mobile,

or maybe you'll get your car going. I attempted. I genuinely thought this was brilliant. It explained why the door might be locked, but still gave the impression that someone was home. But this didn't rattle him. His facial expression changed almost immediately, not in a good way.

He pulled a pair of black leather gloves from his back pocket and began sliding them on with a sadistic excitement that told me he was calling my bluff. Brilliant. Well then, let's go see your brother. I looked up helplessly, lost for a response at the man who now knew he had me. He could smell it a mile away that I was lying. I stared up, dumbfounded, at an experienced predator who knew how to corner his brother. pray. A tear started to escape from my eye as I froze in terror at the realization I was done. He put his now gloved hand on the top of my back and ushered me towards my house.

My entire frame was trembling. My blood was pumping around my body at a rate I didn't know possible. I was trying my hardest to hold back a flood of tears. At this point, I know what you're thinking. What kind of parents leave their 12-year-old child alone for hours and ends? ends, but we live in a seriously good neighbourhood. The sort of place where kids half my age play in the streets for hours while their parents share a glass of gin in the backyard, gossiping and bitching about the rest of the neighbourhood, and where the men all go to the same local bar and go bowling together. But I think this entire event, and the events that lead on from it, changed our little suburban utopia forever. So, there I was in the hands of a pure

a predator, a man who'd actually manipulated me and got me to invite him into my own home. And now he was going to do whatever he wanted to me between now and when my mum arrived home in four hours. I desperately scanned my street for assistance. The neighbours on my left were out of town and the ones on the right wall. Their cars were missing, not a good sign. The other houses were too far behind me now for me to try and run and the man had me walking straight forward. The man sensed this and he gave me a absurd. He gave me a... He met my gaze and made me follow his to the obscenely sized knife he had concealed in his sleeve. I knew if I screamed, I was dead.

I knew if I stayed quiet, I was dead. So I closed my eyes, held my breath, and tried to go to a happy place. But it was useless. All I could picture was the horrific things this man would do to me, and what would happen when my family came home to find my mutilated corpse? or worst of all It would not find me at all I would belong to this man forever

All of a sudden We stopped I assumed we were at my front door I started to sob Reluctant to pass over the keys But after a few seconds I didn't feel the man take them So I opened my eyes to see what was happening

Praying to see a cop Or a neighbour confronting the man We weren't at my door We'd reach the foot of my driveway and stopped dead in our tracks. But there was no one there. We were still alone. No one had come to save me from the man, and that broke my spirit that little bit more.

To think you have hope and then have it snatched away is a soul-destroying moment. I closed my eyes as I waited the man's instruction, but then I felt his hand slip, and he let out a, no, no, no. His voice had slipped from this superficial charm and fluency to murmuring, and his voice took on a panic tone. I opened my eyes again. I looked at Dave's face. The violent, malicious smile and the excited immediacy to his posture had no totally vanished. He looked as scared as I'd been ten seconds ago.

His hand that had been ushering me inside was now on his head with a tight grip on his greasy hair, whilst he now stared in what seemed like disbelief. into the section of pavement at the bottom of my driveway. He started to exhale, faster and faster. He also studied to dart his vision at random places all around the surrounding area. For the first time, the man started to actually look like he was scared of being caught. He backed away from me and started to make a hasty retreat off my street. He started walking backwards at first, while snapping his head side to side, as if looking for something.

His pace started to pick up, and he bulled. it around the corner. By this time I'd snucked out of my days from the last two minutes and dashed over to my front door. I ran my keys into the lock and after around ten attempts and a mini panic attack, my key finally slid in the hole and a few seconds later I was throwing the door shut behind me and locking it up tight. It was only after the second deadbolt was in place and the chain was on that I actually started

to feel safe. I quickly ran to the living room window to make sure my parents hadn't left it on nightlock meaning that Dave could come back later on and pry it open with his big knife. I ran upstairs to call the police. This was when I saw the man run around the corner to the left of my cul-de-sac. Now, I should mention at this point, the corner houses have pretty huge hedges that restrict the view of the adjoining main road. But from my vantage point in my bedroom,

I'd just make out the top of a white transit van, around 50 yards from the entrance to my cul-de-sac. As the man turned the corner, He left my vision and I presumed he would make a swift exit down the street. But something caught my eye. I could see the top 30 centimetres of the van and its side door slid open around the time the man would have been making his way past the stationary vehicle, and then the door slammed shut and a few seconds later the van drove away.

I desperately tried to get the license number of the van, but I couldn't get a clear view from my line of vision. I remember thinking about the lie the man had told me about his car being broken down and wishing I'd noticed the van before. I punished myself on missing it. Maybe if I'd caught him out on it then, perhaps he would have gotten cold feet and just left me alone. This had really shaken me. I was scared and I just wanted the police to come and arrest this man so I could sleep at night. After the adrenaline wore off, and I was now sure Dave had left and wasn't coming back, I decided it was pointless to call the police. I mean, I only had what I assumed was a fake name

and a vague description of a mass-produced vehicle with no license plate. They would likely just tell me to call back if he showed up again, and to make sure all my doors and windows were locked, which they were. And the main issue is they would tell my mom, maybe even get her in some sort of trouble for me being alone. Who knows? It didn't seem worth the risk, as I was safe now. I would likely never be allowed to walk home from school alone

or have the house to myself ever again, and I like doing those things. they made me feel grown up. So I decided Dave wasn't coming back, mainly because of the way he'd reacted when he saw whatever he saw at the bottom of my driveway. Whatever it was had really spooked him and he booked it out of their pretty goddamn fast.

My train of thought connected with my eyes and they pointed themselves at my driveway. And that's when I saw it. At the foot of my drive on the pavement. A yellow drawing in what looked like chalk caught paint. I went down to investigate. I made my way to what I can only describe as some sort of symbol on the ground. At first, I really didn't know what I was looking at. It was some sort of crude drawing of a moth, butterfly with simple shapes inside of a quickly drawn circle.

No detail, just the very brief outline of the aforementioned insect inside a circle that had been done similar to how you draw the at-side. I didn't know what to make of it. I was looking back in mind trying to think if I'd noticed something there prior to these events. But you know how it is. Kids on my street play with chalk all the time, drawing pages, writing their names and mapping out a hot scotch course, stuff like that. So I never would have given this a second thought anyway. But whatever this meant, it had saved my life. It had put the fear of God into a frenzied paed paedophile who was moments away from having a 12-year-old girl at his mercy. Well, a few questions ran through my mind until my mum came home.

What was that symbol? What did it mean? Why did it cause Dave to have a mini heart attack and flee to his van? How did I not notice the van before? Did Dave have a friend nearby? That was his getaway or worse? Is he coming to join in? Why had he suddenly decided to follow me?

And had he just seen me alone and turning on to my streets? Or again worse? had it been watching me and learning my schedule and who'd be in my house at certain times. But I was creeping myself out now, so I stopped tormenting myself and put some hilarious archaeo out of nowhere videos on YouTube to lighten my mood and tried my best to just forget about the whole thing. Still, when my mom eventually came home, I gave her the biggest hug and told her that I loved her. She immediately thought I'd done something wrong, typical. I laughed about it and soon Dave and the white van

and the butterfly symbol mystery were slipping from my mind. Days went past since my close encounter and before I knew it, it was Friday the 5th of July and I'd finished the final day of my school term for the summer. It had been just over a week since my run-in with the man who called himself Dave and I'd slowly started to get over what had happened. Over the first few days since the incidents, I could have sworn I kept seeing that white van rowing,

around my area. But it wasn't in an obvious way. I kind of keep catching glimpses of a white transit van either parked round corners nearby or passing by in the side streets near my house and school. Either way, it always seemed to just come out of nowhere like it did on that day. I'd always close my eyes tight and rub my eyelids as if to try and wait myself up. And it worked. Every time I open my eyes, the van would be gone. In the end, I just chalked it up to a lack of sleep over the event and tried to convince myself I wasn't being rational. Even so I found myself subconsciously not wearing headphones when walking, being more vigilant when walking past objects that people could hide behind, parked up vehicles and concealed walkways, just in case Dave was

hiding somewhere waiting to jump out, grabbed me and finish what he'd started last week. And for a few days after, I made sure I always locked the front door and the windows when I got home to my empty house. I wasn't sleeping great either. constantly looking at my window on a night, making sure there wasn't a white van at the end of my street. Part two. Ultimately, by the time the end of my last day of my school year rolled around eight days later, I'd pretty much begun to move on with my life, and the whole thing was becoming a creepy tale that maybe I could share one day as an anecdote among friends, or sitting around a campfire or a table in a bar. On this particular day my mum was still on a 12-12 shift at the hospital and my dad was working away again out of town

Again, I'm sure a lot of people may read this and be picturing me as some poor neglected kid with two parents more concerned about their careers and after work drinks with colleagues Well, that couldn't be further from the truth My parents taught me to be independent from an early age and I was always trusted to look after myself This allowed my parents to go do what they needed to do to make sure I had every everything I needed. Up until this event, the insane roller coaster that followed, I always felt I had a great upbringing, and I'm so grateful for both my parents. And as it was a Friday, and the holidays had begun, my mom said my friends, who we will call Jessica, could stay over. Jessica and I left school that day after saying goodbye to our classmates for six whole weeks.

We didn't take the usual route home, however. You see, one of our other friends was being picked up by a mum being the kind of woman she was, she offered us a ride. They lived on the street behind our house and there happened to be a small, convenient footpath through the trees in between the adjoining gardens that we could easily cut across to my backyard. It was raining and we didn't fancy waiting for the pretty unreliable school bus in the cold. This meant also me, Jess and our friend Daisy could also finalize our plans for us through meeting up over the summer holidays in a comfortable and warm Audi Q-5. We obviously snatched the offer up. We entered my house through the back porch via my sliding patio doors and started the usual girly sleepover stuff you did at that age.

We raided the cupboards for crisps and sweets to take up to my room for a movie marathon of mean girls, Angus Thongs and John Tugger Must Die. I remember every detail from that night, for better or worse. The hours flew by and I was honestly enjoying our time together, watching movies whilst talking to our crushes on MSN and leaving sassy comments on our crushes. is MySpace. We were living the pre-teen dream. It had gotten to around 10pm and the sun was now down on our quiet suburban community, settled under a warm, dark blanket of summer night. We looked down to find our snack bowls were empty. I said I'd go get some more cheesy deritos and sweet and sourly popcorn, being a good host and all. However, Jessica, being the bubbly sprite that she was, said she'd go get them. She needed to use the bathroom anyway, she

insisted. Now I should note that our upstairs toilet had a tendency to stab you in the back when it came to flushing. I don't imagine she wanted to risk the embarrassment and the mix of sugar-rich fizzy drinks and processed salty snacks had clearly taken its toll in her stomach. I didn't want to make things weird for her, so gladly handed her my bowl. She hopped off the bed and walked the doorway and turned sharply to the right and made her way down the hall. However, just before she stuck out of sight behind where the bedroom door hinge is fixed to the landing wall, She could pause for a second, to look back at me. She gave me a smile.

I'm not entirely sure what the motivation behind it was, but it was a warm one, and I reciprocated. I think we were just sharing a strong bond of closeness, and we were both feeling the euphoria at the fact that the school holidays have begun. Two 30-year-olds with a house to themselves, with six weeks of school-free summertime ahead, everything going for us and everything to look forward to. We wouldn't want to crack a smile, eh?

We weren't the most popular kids by any stretch, but that didn't matter, not to us. We had each other and a few other close friends. Our circle was certainly small, but that was more than enough for us. We and Jessica in particular were especially close. She was more like a sister to me. We've been friends since I can remember my first memory. She was loyal to the core, and I was to her. We were inseparable, and people also often mistook us with each other.

It always looked alike and due to being so close we tended to wear similar clothes and have her hair done the same way, almost like twins. In fact, I think it was only a few weeks before this event took place. I started doing my hair in pigtails to at least try and stand out from Jessica, but it was useless. Other than her being a little bigger than me, we were pretty much identical. Jessica's warm smile remained on her face until she moved out of sight and proceeded to make her way downstairs.

Once she left my sight, I convinced myself to scooch down to the bottom of my bed from the comfy position I was in, or relaxed in the nest we'd made for ourselves from my pillows, duvet, and the corner of my room where my wall met my headport. I guess pausing the film seemed the least I could do for Jessica since she was grabbing the snacks and everything. The remote was set on my bedroom window, cell, which was situated upside the space between the foot of my bed and the TV in the corner of my room. my vision locked onto the item as I shimmied on my butt down the bed I grabbed the remote pause the movie turn to replace it as I lifted my head and broke eye lock with the remote for the first time all that's when I saw it

the top 30 centimetres of a white Ford transit van discrete and innocuous yet all the while unmistakable and nefarious I once again attempted my previous trick and began closing my eyes tightly and rubbing them with my fingers in the desperate attempt to wait myself up from what now seemed like a recurring nightmare. I put everything into the process, including a little prayer that I was dreaming for good measure, hoping that this yielded the same results as it had done earlier in the week, but this time no matter how many times I repeated this, it never worked. Every time I unclenched my eyes, I could still just make out the top of that four transit,

white van from just over my neighbor's garden hedge. This was getting real, and I felt my breathing increase. No way, I whimpered in disbelief. I was frozen in a state of denial and rationalization, trying to fight off the surge of pure terror that was threatened to erupt from within me. The realization hit me in the face like a bat, that if in fact this was the van, the same van from last week, then Dave would not be far away. I tried desperately to convince myself this was just another van, desperately looking for differences in size, colour or shape. But I couldn't.

It was the same. The same make, the same model, and I knew, I just knew by the way it was parked. Exactly how it was that day Dave had jumped inside it to make his getaway, part just around the left corner to the entrance of my cul-de-sac. What was hitting me now was an unwanted case of deja vu. I was looking on in shock when the van, as if sensing I'd noticed it, suddenly burst alive. The engine fired and began to tick over and its headlights unleashed their rays like a sleeping animal being awoken.

Then, to my horror, it began to creep slowly around the corner and made its way onto my street. My eyes wouldn't look away. I watched it pull up directly in the middle of my cul-de-sac, side door aimed at the front of my house, lined up almost perfectly with a symbol. at the bottom of the drive. Red flag number one. I looked for the license plate. There wasn't one. Red flag number two.

The side door of the van snapped out of the closed position and the door stood backwards approximately 10 inches, revealing a preview of the dark abyss from within the vehicle. And then, from that very abyss, I noticed the third and final red flag. A black-gloved hand protruded from the darkness to place its palm on the edge of the door and began to carefully, as if not wanting to make too much noise, slide it open further. This made me snap out of my days for the first time and my senses came back to me.

I needed to get down and make sure the doors were locked, as I couldn't remember if me and Jessica had locked the patio doors behind us when we'd come in. Jeez, we've been so busy laughing and giggling about school and other stuff that maybe we'd forgotten. I needed to get her upstairs, barricade my room and call my mom. I was just inhaling enough air into my already pulsating lungs so I could shout out her name loud enough for her to hear me when I heard a noise. I honestly couldn't tell you what it was specifically. A simple, loud, sharp bang followed by a series of slightly quiet, dull sounds. My blood had turned to pure ice. I couldn't comprehend the fear and terror that I was feeling right then.

I spent the last eight days suppressing that horrific feeling when the man I knew as Dave showed me his knife, but now it was back, worse than ever. I knew this wasn't good. I crept down the hallway to the beginning of my landing where the stairs meet the upstairs hallway and the wall opposite my bedroom turns to a wooden banister. This allowed me to peek at a section of my downstairs area.

I held my breath long enough so I could concentrate on trying to hear. There were no more noises, no loud bangs, just silence, horrible, deafening silence. The only noise I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat pounding away in my eardrums. Jessica, I managed to whisper, taking another two baby steps forward to increase my vantage point. This revealed my front door. A jar, with a chain hanging free. A jagged piece of the doorframe swung on. from its limp hand.

Yes! My voice now broke in a desperate prayer for her to answer me back. Nothing was coming back to me, though. That's where I saw the soiled bootprints, heading into the kitchen leading to a half bowl of cheesy Doritos spread all over the floor. Most of them crushed as if they'd been trampled on. The bootprints led in from the front door

into the kitchen where the mess could be seen, and then they retreated back out of the house. I looked around and the scene began to register in my mind and play out like a crime watch reconstruction video. I pictured the door being kicked open, the chain breaking. I then saw a man with fresh mud from our garden make his way into our house, leaving the footprints as he entered and left. I imagined Jessica dropping the bowl of chips after being startled by the door being burst open, the dritos spilling on the kitchen floor. Finally, it was the image of the man grabbing Jessica and placing his gloved hands.

hand over a mouth and dragging around to my front door that made me realize there and then that my best friend was gone. I was frozen, trying once again pathetically to wake myself up. This couldn't be real. Things like this don't happen to people like me. I'm just a normal kid. These were the thoughts flying through my brain. Glitchay, I know, but when an event like this happens, I can tell you now, it really is something that your head can't get around. It seems like hours have passed, but it was probably only really 90 seconds before I eventually accepted that what had happened and told myself I had to act fast. I ran back to my room to get my phone, toes slipping off the end of every other step as I practically tried to get to a place of

safety. As I was trying to die my mom's number, fighting the uncontrollable shakes in my nerves and trying to ride the overwhelming surge of adrenaline, I looked out of my window. The van is now gone. I sat in my room. With the door shut and my chest of drawers pulled down alongside my wall to act as a deadlock on the door and sat with my back against it, feet against my bed for leverage. Nothing was coming in while I had anything to do with it. My mom had instructed me to stay put and keep safe while she'd call people who needed to be called. She promised me she'd be there soon and everything was going to be okay.

I couldn't tell over the phone if she really believed that. My dad, the police and Jessica's parents were all known. notified by my mom as I sat hyperventilating in the middle of my room, eyes locked on the barricaded door. Jessica's mom knew all about my mom's working hours and knew that me and her would be home alone that night. She was fine with it, as both our moms knew how mature we were for our ages. But even so, I don't know how my mom managed to break the news that a man had come in the middle of the night and taken her only child. The police arrived first, through my bedroom door. an officer addressed himself olivia matthews my name's detective paul mckinley and from the police department we've had a call from your mom about your friend can you come out please i didn't trust him right away and asked him to prove who he was he gladly obliged and responded by telling me my mom's name what she did for a living he also advised me to take a look outside my window i'd pull my wardrobe across my window frame for extra security so i didn't

I didn't notice the flashing blue lights at the police response team right outside my house. I took this as validation that he was in fact a policeman and not the man coming back for me and conning his way into my bedroom. I spent the next 15 minutes being comforted by Detective McKinley downstairs on the couch until my mum and Jessica's parents got there. They arrived at almost the same time with my dad arriving 30 minutes later. He'd abruptly left his work site as soon as he'd heard from my mom. Jessica's mom, oh, jeez, she looked broken. She'd always been a very bubbly person, just like her daughter, and she was kind of like one of the girls in a lot of the ways.

I'd always enjoyed her company anyway. I imagined if this night had never happened, and she would have been the type of mom who would have taken us both for brunch to talk about men and gossip when we reached our later teens, but I knew from the minute she walked through my front door on that night that the woman would never be the same again. The sheer agony on her face from her panic and a threat over her daughter's fate was enough to make me want to vomit. I honestly didn't recognize her.

The detective wanted my mom to be present before I gave my statement. I guessed it was a combination of protocol and wanting to keep me calm to give an accurate account of the night's events. My mom was sat with her arm around me, telling me it was okay and to tell them what happened, encouraging me that anything I could remember at all would be useful. I really didn't know where to begin. So I took a moment, took a deep breath, and told the detective, I know who did this. I know who's got Jessica.

This made Jessica's mom snap out of her pale, shaking days, and made her eyes explode open. She made a beeline towards me. What? Who has her? She demanded it to know. The rest of the parents and please stared at me with gazes that matched her, words. So I composed myself once more and thought back in my bind as best I could, and started with the day I'd gotten off the bus and encountered the man who caught himself Dave. I told them

everything I could remember, starting with a description of Dave, how he tried to force his way into my home, how he made me feel, the symbol, the van, everything. Jessica went to get snacks, and I saw his van drive onto my street. I knew he was back, so I went to warn her that she needed to get upstairs, but it was too late. I started to cry then. He was already in the house, and he dragged her outside and into his van. Please, I've told you everything I know about him. Please go and arrest him.

Detective McKinley assured me that my description has already been forwarded to the station for a desk team to go through the database and look for suspects that matched my description of the unsub, which they were calling the white van man at this time. McKinley and a few of the uniformed officers went to go door to door to see if there were any witnesses of the abduction. A couple of family liaison officers came by to sit with us and try to comfort Jessica's parents. They were both really nice. A man and a woman, respectively. The man was a really young, soft-spoken individual who clearly had a lot of experience with traumatised children.

He walked me and my parents through the process of this criminal investigation, and what would likely follow tonight's initial inquiries. The other stayed with Jessica's parents. I imagine going over similar things. What happened next? I don't think anyone in the room expected, especially Detective McKinley. He'd come back after an hour of canvassing

in the surrounding neighbourhoods for witnesses with a disappointed look on his face. No one in the area had seen anything and the station had encountered some technical issues while trying to get back to him with an ID on the white van man. Time was of the essence in these cases. His calming, confident detective routine had slipped,

and he'd now begun to grill me more like a man who was desperate for a win in a dwindling crib. He had a frustrated and impatient tone to his questions now, and the wanting me calm approach was long gone. I could smell the booze on his breath when he yelled, too. I'd started to feel uncomfortable around him, and my mum felt it too. Things were about to get heated when they arrived. Two sharply dressed men followed by a team in matching polo shirts carrying technical equipment. They addressed themselves as the FBI.

One of the agents, who was called Johnson, told McKinley that this case was under the jurisdiction of the major violent crimes department of the FBI. And the other agent, Rodriguez, who was obviously second in command, told him that his officers were to debrief their team immediately and hand over all statements and progress reports and make their way back to the office for reassignment. McKinley was outraged. I didn't get why at the time. I just thought, hey, what's your problem, dude? You go home and chill in front of the TV. What are you moaning about? But I've seen enough police stations now to know this guy needed to prove his use,

and likely his drinking had him on thin ice with his superiors. I learned later on that he was being forced into early retirement after this assignment, and he wasn't being reassigned. I imagine he believed cracking a high-profile case like an abduction. and the rescue of a white, upper-class family's only child may have saved his job, but I don't imagine he would have attended many AA meetings after this setback. He was a, this job is all I got type of cop. Well, that's the impression I got.

After McKinley and his team had left, the FBI tech team set up a glistening and recording device on our landline phone while the agents in charge studied my statement in grave detail before they both went out to the street to study the symbol at the foot of the drive. I managed to catch a glimpse. They had a look not that different from Dave's when he'd seen it, that blank, empty stare as if wishing it was literally anything but what they were actually looking at. I saw them instruct a few guys to take snaps at the drawing with a simple whistle and point,

whilst they came back inside. They informed us that it was possible that kidnappers would make contact, and they were right. Around 12.30 a.m., our landline, rang. The agent's signal for my mum to answer the phone. My mum looked confused and asked why her, seeing as Jessica was the kidnapped victim, so likely her mum would be more susceptible to paying the ransom. Agent Johnson dismissed her question and told her it would be for her. At this point, I could tell my dad and Jessica's parents knew the agents knew something we didn't. The FBI were

definitely keeping something from us. The tech activated the tape recorder, placed on a big set of headphones over his ears before nodding at Agent Rodriguez, who then gave my mum a similar cue to answer the phone. She picked up. Hello? My mom managed. At this stage, we couldn't hear the man on the other end of the phone, but I could just imagine Dave in his confident glip tone. Yes, this is she. How do you know my name? She let the man talk for a minute or so. And her breathing started to increase rapidly as the man talked to her before she erupted.

You can go to hell, you psychopathic piece of shit. There's no way you're having my daughter. I had no idea what the man was saying, but it caused my mum to look Jessica's parents' way with a torn look on her face. You monster, you won't get away with this. There's no way I'm handing my daughter over to you. Her voice rose from a quiver to a loud, angry crescendo.

She slammed the receiver down and ran her hand through her hair and massaged her neck in one smooth, continuous motion. Now the phone call was over. She started to avoid eye contact with Jessica's parents. Agent Johnson was asking the tech to try and run a trace on the call, whilst my mom got her bearings together. Once she calmed down, she broke the news to Jessica's parents and my father about the contents of the call. I was right. Jessica was not the target of the kidnapping.

I was. This person had been watching me for weeks and had tried to abduct me tonight, knowing my mom wasn't at home. The only hiccup was they mistook Jessica for me. They were asking my mom to bring me to a designated location and have me traded for Jessica. We had two hours to bring me or there would be consequences for Jessica and our families. As if sensing the eruption of a motion to come,

Greg, the aforementioned male FLO, took me out of the room and asked me to show in my bedroom so he could make sure it was safe. I knew this was some sort of bullshit excuse to get me out of the room, so I didn't hear mine and Jessica's parents literally screaming at each other, arguing about whether my mom should be handing me over to those monsters. My mom told me days after that Jessica's mom had gone a little crazy, saying, if it should be me, then I should do the right thing and go. Let Jessica come home and then my mom.

would be wondering what those animals are doing to her little girl. Apparently my mum slapped her and they got into it. Took a few agents to pull them apart by all accounts. I started to get upset the more I thought about the situation. Greg? Yes. Why me? I asked. Greg looked torn by my question and responded with, I'm sorry, Olivia. I can't see, unfortunately.

But I have a feeling the agents will let everyone know what's going on real soon. Why not? I counted. Well, this is a very complicated situation and let's just say the law could be tricky at times, but I can't say any more on it. I'm just here to make sure you and your parents are okay. His response is generated more questions than answers in all honesty, but I could tell I was backing him into a corner. I let him be, we spent the next hour putting my room back together, whilst making sure there wasn't a boogeyman in my closet, proverbial or actual. We read it for the animosity downstairs to calm down. The other FLO called us down after an hour,

and I walked down my stairs to mine and Jessica's parents all sat on my couch, with Agent Johnson stood up in front of them, like a teacher in front of his students. I took a seat in between my parents, and they both looked down at me with a reassuring smile, as if to tell me I wasn't going anywhere. They knew I'd likely heard the outburst from upstairs. Not that I ever thought my mum would agree to trade me.

Nevertheless, I still appreciated it. it. Agent Johnson spoke. Okay guys, what I'm about to tell you is strictly confidential. You are now part of one of the largest ongoing criminal investigations in North America. As he was talking, Agent Rodriguez handed out some documents. I'm going to need each of you to read and sign the bottom before I go any further. We all dared without hesitation, but not without noticing the section that stated if we breathed a word about this to anyone outside the FBI, that we would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. We didn't care, though. We just wanted to know what was going on. So, who took Jessica? Was it the man who grabbed me

last week? Was it Dave? I asked boldly. Agent Johnson didn't say a word. Instead, he continued looking at Agent Rodriguez, waiting for confirmation that we'd all signed the non-disclosure agreement. Rodriguez continued to review the paperwork, or my dad blurted out a question. The police were here before. On their desk team or whatever, they were looking for someone. Have you had a lead? Rodriguez remained flicking through papers, and Johnson continued watching him. My mom backed up my dad's question with.

Yeah, they were. White van man. Who is he? You know, don't you? Finally, Rodriguez held the stack of papers in both hands and knocked them back into an even pile by firmly tapping the bottom of the NDA forms against his thighs three times before sliding them back into a briefcase and locking it tight. He turned and nodded at Agent Johnson, who turned back to face us.

White van men, plural, the agent said bluntly. He let what he'd said sink in and used our stunned silence as an opportunity to continue his explanation. The people who we believe have Jessica are a large group of dangerous individuals that we've been chasing for a long time now. But three. I wasn't sure if what he'd said had really gotten through to my traumatized mind, so I jumped in and interrupted.

Men, people, I questioned, not letting him get a response in before going off on a tangent. No, it's not a group. It's just one guy. He said his name was Dave. He tried to take me last week, and now he came back to finish the job, but he took Jess instead, and it's all my fault. Please, you have to find him and get her back. Please. I started to get frustrated.

Time was running out, and we didn't have time to spare. In all honesty, I felt like I was responsible for not letting my parents know about Dave in the first place, so I was desperate to get Jess home safe. Agent Johnson held his hand up dismissively to calm my outburst, and made sure I was listening before he continued. The man you described, he sighed in what felt like a bit of shame. His name isn't Dave. His name is Damien, Damien Ramsey. He took another pause and sighed again as if trying to find the words whilst his gaze was aimed at the floor.

He is a criminal informant of the Bureau. Our eyes all widened. This was getting more and more bizarre. Or my mom went ballistic, as you can imagine, saying that this man tried to form. his way into our home last week to do God only knows what to me and we find out he works for the FBI. She was appalled and outraged, but my father managed to settle her down. He, as well as everyone else, wanted to know more. The agent waited for the room to settle again before he continues. He's a real piece of work, no doubt. He was originally a part of the gang we're investigating.

They're known as the swarm. I couldn't help but think back to the butterfly symbol when he said their name and are not tightened in my gut. They are a ruthless, clandestine network of human traffickers who were responsible for a large percentage of violent crime all over the southeastern portion of the country. Kidnappings, chart abductions, murders, online torture, extortion, blackmail, you name it. He sighed once again and took on a more defeated look the more he delved in on this subject. They've kidnapped over 700 people, some as young as 18 months. That's just what we know of. The victims are mainly traded for large amounts of money to some of the sickest people on the planet. The others who are sold off are often sent to the worst red rooms on the

dark web. In some of the more high-profile cases, they've slaughtered entire families just acquiring their target. I, along with everyone else, listened with pure disgust. I really thought it was bad Jessica being taken by this Ramsey character, but oh my goodness. God, this was becoming so much worse. The agent spoke again. And these monsters don't stop there. Not everyone who gets taken is made into torture or snuff videos or traded to grooming gangs or satanic cults.

We've had some instances where rich kids have been kidnapped and horrific videos and images have been sent to the family with a sole purpose of extorting money. Jessica's mom gasped and a little more of her soul left her body as her imagination tortured. a already fragile mind. So what was this Ramsey character doing trying to assault my daughter if he's a government asset? My mom blurted out in a rage.

Well, Ramsey was what we call a spotter for the swarm. He would identify and stalk potential targets that seemed lucrative. You know the types. Homeal owners, terrorways, runaways. He's a clever, sadistic psychopath. He knew the area well and he sold information on targets to these bastards.

These people would be trafficked, and he also knew of people who scout for rich families to extort and blackmail by threatening their loved ones. Ramsey himself was not a fully-fledged member of the swarm, but he knew how they worked, so he could tell us the gang would scout kids that they could potentially snatch before obtaining photographs

so to advertise the target on the secret online forums of group use. If these adverts are met by a buyer's specific tastes, then the buyer would then offer to pay an obscene amount of monies to the gang for delivery of the targets. The way he said that word, made the parents in the room recoil with nausea. And believe me, it gets worse. With Ramsey's information,

we've discovered that these buyers aren't what or who you'd think they'd be. He bit his bottom lip and clasped his hands together as if anticipating the impact of what he was going to say next. They aren't mentally disturbed sex offenders. The buyers, a goddamn CEO, judges, senators, politicians. Geez, we even have some circumstantial evidence, some high-ranking cops were involved.

We believe this organized group have direct links to some of the country's most rich and powerful elite. This is why this investigation is top secret and any links to it at all have to be kept internal. We have assets in the field who we need to keep safe.

We couldn't believe how dark this was all turning. I could tell everyone was having a hard time grasping the reality of it all. Most of the members of the group tend to be extremely violent and all of the high-ranking ones have a lot of sociopathic tendencies, but ultimately, together, they are well-organized units, with a strong hierarchy in place, and I'll do anything to further their interests. However, Ramsey, well, he was different. He didn't care about the money or the power. That sick bastard had a taste for the young ones himself Didn't always just hand over the information

And he often used his line of work to satisfy his own twisted needs And his arrogance eventually got him in some personal trouble with the law He was arrested on suspicion of the rape and murder of a five-year-old boy in Atlanta a few years back Oh boy we had DNA evidence damning CCTV footage We had that bastard dead to rights literally and Georgia has the death penalty and he said this like a soccer player who just missed a last minute penalty

Agent Johnson's contempt for the man started to show as he continued with the story we were literally about to charge him when he got this smug look on his face that stupid face of his he turned and says to me with this real superficial arrogance that made me want to snap his neck right then and there

I knew the tone of voice he was talking about so assured like he was invincible. And now Agent Johnson did his best to replicate Ramsey's broad Georgia accents. You just wear the cut and picking many of their agents. What if I could give you the biggest winner your pathetic career? Who cares about one little toddler, who, let's face it, was begging for what he got anyway. I could make you the biggest cat in the alley, Agent Johnson.

So, we agreed to drop the charges in regards to the charge. child in return for his cooperation and information that aided our ongoing investigation into this organized crime syndicate When Johnson finished he almost took on the look of Jessica's mum He looked defeated He'd sold out this little boy who'd suffered horribly at the hands of this animal for nothing but a few cheap winds A few bad apples had faced charges but the tree so to speak was still standing The swarm was still out there ruining people's lives In our defense, he gave a lot of information on the gang's methods, sites they used on the

deep web, places they would trade their livestock, as he called them, high-profile buyers and so on. We were a lot more aware of their presence than we were three years ago. We were able to solve a lot of cold cases thanks to his insights. He knew dates, places, people, numbers, sites, accomplices. He was a goddamn gold mine and a hundred percent untouchable. and the son of a bitch knew it. He never told us everything at once.

He always held stuff back as insurance for him against future convictions. His gaze met mine when he said that last sentence. And I understood why he was so bold with me that day. He never once looked as if being caught bothered him. Ramsey went on to secure a Witzek agreement, and we moved him to this area, safe house, immunity, new identity, the works. but we've come to learn one thing tonight when it comes to the people who are dealing with here

there ain't no such thing as immunity at that time I wasn't sure what that last comment meant but the agent continued before I could ask what he was talking about he had multiple reports of his behaviour since he became a CI just minor stuff until today public indecency assault drug charges however any police reports or inquiries on him automatically set off a federal tripwire

and the files became immediately encrypted to anyone except the Bureau. This is to protect the identity and our investigation. Agent Rodriguez piped up for the first time, rising from his seat at our dining room table with a blue folder in his hand, stamped classified in contrasting blood-red ink. We first became aware of tonight's events earlier today, a police report that was filed by a neighbor on the adjacent street eight days ago. He reported a man matching Ramsey's description being dragged into the side door

of a white Ford transit earlier today by two men dressed in all black, with what he described as creepy-ass Easter bunny masks. Agent Rodriguez backed up the FBI's theory by pulling out a photo from the blue file to show the adults in the room. Greg, after receiving a non-verbal cue from Johnson, distracted me when this was happening by asking me to help him with his iPhone. I knew it was some other bullshit made-up issue again, but I helped him anyway. I knew now that whatever was being shown was bad. The image, whatever it was, made Jessica's mum gasp, burying her face into her husband's embrace. She broke once again into a sobbing shriek. After placing the photo away and closing the folder, he continued giving the account to the neighbour's police report on Ramsey's kidnapping.

He said the van had been lingering in the area, with the engine running, and the neighbour thought it looked suspicious, as he'd noticed the van had kept showing up in the area over the past week, but no one ever got in or out, and there was no road words going on in the area. at the time to explain his presence. We believe karma and the swarm, finally caught up with Ramsey. We're not sure if they came here to find Ramsey and found Olivia, or if they came to take Olivia and caught Ramsey in the acts. Either way, he belongs to them now.

I'd have sympathy for the guy, but maybe now that kid in Atlanta finally has some justice. Rodriguez immediately realized that last comment likely wouldn't go down well with Jessica's parents, and I noticed he was deliberately maintaining eye contact with Agent Johnson and Agent Johnson alone. He realized he'd just planted a pretty nasty seed in their already fractured minds about the fate of people who were taken by these animals. Oh, and in case you are wondering, I asked my mum about the photograph. My mom told me a few days after this event that the photo was a screenshot from a video found on a memory stick

that was delivered to a wealthy family's home two years ago. It had been taken into evidence during a high-profile kidnapping of two young kids and the image sounded horrified. She had two terrified six-year-olds sat on a couch with black tape across their mouths. In between the two kids had a man in all black clothes with his arms around the two boys in a non-threatening way.

She said it would have been just like my father would put his arms around me and mom in our family photos. But this man wore a mask. a pink Easter bunny mask The ears pointed straight up and flopped over just before the top Totally regular but It was the eyes They were pure evil

They were the type of eyes that drain all sense of safety away from you When you look into them A threatening, horrifying glare That my mum said she still sees from the shadows of her bedroom at night In front of the couch was a table On the table there was an array of tools screwdrivers drills, scalples, pliers, bolt cutters. My mom continued to go into gut-wrenching detail about the wounds the kids had before I asked it to stop, and she gladfully obliged.

Once again, we hugged and said we loved each other. We seemed to do that a lot these days. Agent Johnson continued his story, but I noticed Rodriguez received a call that he'd clearly been eagerly waiting for. He answered it with haste and left the room to speak. I had a question. When, I mean Ramsey, when Ramsey was trying to get into my house, he got spooked by a drawing an hour drive. I saw you two looking at it earlier. What is it?

I asked. Agent Johnson closed his eyes and nodded his head as if to signal he was just about to explain that before I interrupted him. The symbol at the bottom of your drive is the gang's brand. The symbol is a butterfly. You see in the world of child sex trading, It symbolizes that a buyer is into very young girls. With this being the gang's niche, we can only assume that this is the origin of the symbol, hence the name, the swarm.

We tend to find this symbol branded onto the victim's bodies a lot. Branded, like with a hot iron. Jessica's dad piped up, and he immediately wished he hadn't because Agent Johnson reluctantly nodded, and Jessica's mum's spirit broke again. A working hypothesis is that the gang came to town for business or to look for Ramsey. Whilst here, maybe Olivia caught someone's eye. Walks home alone to an empty house. She looks young for her age, or the stuff that makes these sickos see dollar signs.

They would have obtained a photo or video, then advertised it on a buyer's forum on the hidden web or black market this gang use. They'll have received an offer from a buyer, so then they'll have begun to arrange the snatch. They'll have been watching the Matthews' house for a few days after, to figure out your work schedules and your neighbor's schedules and so on, fighting the best time to strike. When everything is set up and a date is set,

this is when they spray the symbol on the drive of the house. This is to signal to the snatchers which is the house of the target. They use the yellow so it can be easily seen in the dark. In rare cases, it's also to claim the target too. worn off other interested parties and avoid conflicts of ownership with a rival outfit. I'll be frank though, not many guys like to piss off the swan. I didn't doubt that for one second. We believe the snatchers were here to take Olivia the day when Ramsey was trying to get into your house.

They must have spotted him with you and waited for him to take you inside where they could have nailed two birds with one stone. But he noticed the symbol and then fled the scene after realizing the gang could be watching. That stupid son of a bitch walked right into their grasp. Agent Johnson, despite knowing his best source of information into the gang was now likely being branded with 256 degree hot metal and being mutilated with sharp tools by a bunch of psychotic Easter bunnies. Couldn't help but replicate the expression of satisfaction Rodriguez had displayed earlier when they thought of the horrific things Ramsey was having done to him for betraying the swarm. I could tell he really

felt better for the boy Ramsey had killed in Atlanta. His current situation now gave him a bit of peace. What goes around truly does come back around. Agent Rodriguez re-entered the room and blurted, We're on. I'm heading down now. I'll check in soon with a status update. Looks like we don't need Ramsey after all. We could get these bastards tonight. He gave this information with a slight head nod full of positivity. I couldn't help feel my hopes of seeing Jessica alive again flutter upwards for the first time all night. I looked at the clock. We had around 15 minutes before the deadline to trade me for Jess was up.

So, what happens now? What are you going to do to get my Jess badge? Jessica's mom erupted after pulling herself together. Well, we've been trying to trace the cell number the gang called on to try and locate Jessica, but it's taken a little longer than anticipated. However, our surveillance team have been in position at the warehouse where the caller told us the switch would go down. Two minutes ago a white van

matching the description of your statement pulled up We're just waiting for the golden approval From our strategic firearms commander To move in and take down the men at the drop We need the order in case we need to use lethal force Rodriguez is on his way down now So if they've brought Jessica to the meet We'll have her back home soon

I promise you guys I could tell he was trying to convince himself As much as he was anyone else But something really didn't feel right to me When me and my mum taught this over, a few days later, she told me she'd had exactly the same worry. This gang had evaded capture for years and sounded as if they have the local police networks potentially in their pockets. There was no way arresting them and getting Jessica back was going to be as simple as they made out.

The silence and tension in the room was killing me, so I asked Agent Johnson a question in private that I really wished I'd kept to myself. What's so special about me, agent? me and Jessica are always being mistook for the other. People say we're like twins. Why are they so desperate to trade me for her? What's the difference? I knew it was a selfish question on the bare face of it,

but I was genuinely curious at this point. I looked at my mom for approval to answer honestly. She nodded. Yes, the fact you and Jessica lookalike meant they grabbed her instead of you in the dog by mistake. They wouldn't have known she was in the house as you entered through the bad garden today according to your initial statement and the van always washed the front on the recording the

man said that they presented the buyer with a video of jess after the mix up but he said she looked too old and was too much on the bigger side he wanted you because you looked ripe and wore pigtails well it had to be you or no deal that made me feel sick my mom showed a look at agent johnson to scold him for being a little too honest with the wording of things Agent Johnson did his best to pull back his error in judgment by adding that, likely if I was the one to go downstairs, and they'd try to take me, then maybe they could have killed Jess to make sure there were no loose ends. He added that if I was the one who'd been taken,

I'd be being traded as we speak, and there'd be no opportunity to save me like we have with Jessica right now. I could tell he wasn't the best when dealing with younger people, so I humoured him and acted as if actually seeing the bright side of the situation. I could tell he felt better, and we smiled at each other. I could tell he felt as though he'd done a good job with the way he gave me and my mum a friendly wink. I think, well, I still think, to this day, that Agent Johnson was a good man. A brief, light-hearted moment was blown apart by Agent Johnson's radio handset, crackling to life.

Agents down. I repeat, agents are down. Status zero. They're dead. They're all dead. I repeat, status zero. Everyone in the house just dropped what they were doing and focused on the harrowing dialogue coming through the device in Agent Johnson's trembling hand. I could tell he was trying to remain calm for our benefit. Rodriguez, what's happening? Where are the targets? Where is the go? The five seconds of silence felt like hours as we all crowded around waiting the news. It's a goddamn massacre, Johnson.

The van was a goddamn diversion. There's four bodies here, two in the front seat of the surveillance van and the vehicle is on fire. God, he's blown to shit. He took a moment to cough the smoke out of his lungs before he finished the update. The other two were laying face down in the dirt by van tire marks. My God, their throats have been slit wide open. Jeez, it's a goddamn bloodbath, Bill. Jesus Christ, come on, Jack.

Damn, no pulse. judging by Agent Johnson's facial expressions, he'd come to a horrific realization. Four bodies. There was a team of five. Where's the fifth man? Daniels. Agent Daniels. If you hear, make yourself known.

Agent, that's an order. Both agent's tones were panicky, desperate and short of breath. For the first time tonight, I feel the two men truly empathized with what Jessica's parents were feeling. Now I'm older, I have my own theory about what happened to the surveillance team that night outside the warehouse. I imagine the gang had no intentions of making a trade and Jess was never with them. They wanted to lure me to the site under the false sense of security being under FBI escort. They likely had a unit already in place to take out anyone at the meet, and they were planning to take me by force whilst tie up a lot of loose ends at the same time.

Agent Johnson did in fact say it would be their sort of M.R. I believe the gang had seen the surveillance team arrive and park up. They then waited. When the time was right, they drove the van into the middle of the dirt road outside the warehouse as a diversion. A group of men armed with weapons lay in wait inside the vehicle. Once the FBI got the golden approval from the SFC, three armed agents got out of the FBI vehicle and approached the van with guns drawn. At this time, another group of swarm members attacked the vehicle with a Molotov cocktail or grenade.

The hot explosion and the sound of their colleagues screaming and agony, pulling at their burning skin and clothes, caused the men approaching the van to turn their back on it. This gave the group in the van a chance to jump out and kill two of the three federal agents and kidnap the other. I guess we'll never know what truly happened, but after five years of going over it in my head, that's the most plausible scenario I can think of. There was maybe an hour or so that passed by since the incident, mainly filled by Jessica's mum, screaming at the agents, wailing and shrieking, asking where a little girl was, and what they were doing to get her back.

Agent Johnson's superior then called him to lose his shit, and asked him what an earth had possessed two decorated agents to send a team of just five people to take down the most dangerous organized crime group in North America. Johnson attempted to justify his actions by saying too many agents may have got them detected by the gang and cost them their chance of taking them down and saving Jessica. I would have felt bad for the guy if not trying to pull my head out of oblivion. The realization,

I was never going to see my best friend again, was a blow I wasn't ready for. When people asked me what the darkest time of my life was, it was this hour. The uncertainty. The waiting. The time between learning our last hope to get my friend back was gone and awaiting to hear what had become of a hardworking agent

who was doing his job. And of course my best friend who had never done anything other than be nice to everyone she'd ever met. The anxiety and dread pulled my insides into knots that I never thought could be undone. And then, our landline phone rang, the same process as before with the tech guys setting up the recording and listening devices whilst once again attempting to trace the call. Only this time Agent Johnson picked up the phone, and he wasn't in the mood for games.

Where is my agent You hand them both over now We can talk about a deal You heard either one of them And I promise I will pursue you To the full extent of my ability With the entire backing of the Federal Bureau of Investigation The only headset was being worn

By one of the FBI's profilers So Agent Rodriguez hit the speaker button So we could hear the man's words And what he was saying about the missing agent I look back now And wish he hadn't done that what I heard over the next seven minutes is forever burned into my head. A drawn-out Virginian accent came over the speaker.

Now, come on, agent. You've been doing that for three years now. You're still seen as a failure in your department. We're still going strong. Not even that little rat you had working for you could help you. You give me back my agent and the girl, you sick bastards. Johnson snapped. A clown-like cackle burst from the speaker.

Well, ain't that cute. You allowed a child being raped and murdered to go unpunished, just so you could further your investigations. You call us the masters? Typical lawman. I couldn't help but sympathize as I could tell this struck Agent Johnson's nerves. In a sense, the man was right. It was hard to defend the hypocrisy of the justice system at times.

Johnson had traded the life of the boy Ramsey killed for a tick in the wing column in his investigation. I knew Agent Johnson had been haunted by what he did for a long time. He barely had a comeback. And besides, we wait past making deals. We gave you a chance to make a deal. Girl for the girl and you tried to trap us. So now you're going to feel the consequences of your actions. The man took a pause and said something that made awe.

our heart's wrench. And then we're going to come get the one we want, whatever means necessary. We're dumb pussy-footing around, and we got a lot riding on that little girl you got there. She's just what our guy wants. My mum and dad help me as if to give me some sort of feeling of being safe.

Jessica's mom looked at us, and I swear I saw her look for Jessica to give her the same reassuring hug. And when she grabbed nothing but air, For the tenth time today, I saw her spirit break that little bit more. Another pause and a few inaudible noises before we heard the agonized screams of a man. The agent. But there was something about his groans of pain.

He was off. Daniels. Daniels, it's Johnson. Shout out anything you can to help us locate you. What do you see? Give me something. Oh, he won't be able to do that, unfortunately. You see, we thought you might try something like that.

that, being a crafty fed and everything. So we ripped out his tongue. He said that with a coldness that had a lot of us taken back. He could see that broke, Agent Johnson, knowing his judgment and decisions had this man in this situation. A family man with two kids who should be home right now, watching the Lakers take on the Raptors in the playoffs with a cold beer, right before he tucks the boys in good night after a day of fighting the bad guys of the world. Instead, he's been held against his will, beaten, tortured, and mutilated. Don't worry, though, Agent. Things will stop being cut and ripped off, this gentleman.

If he just writes down in this paper what we want to know, we all looked to Agent Johnson before my dad asked, what is he talking about? That is goddamn classified. He snapped. Well, of course, you know, bill the use of agent johnson's first name visibly startled him the man continued of course you could put your man out of a lot of misery and suffering if you just give me the name that i want you have my word law man

i'll put a bullet in him right now no more games but if you don't he took a deliberate pause to allow the gravity of his innuendo to hit the agent's imagination well let's just say he's got ten to and five fingers he doesn't need in order for him to write a name on a little piece of paper, and if needs must, there's two rows of pearly whites he had to play with. I am not handing over another innocent for you, Psycho is just a butcher. Agent Johnson exploded. His eyes now glazed over with tears of torment. There was another horrific five-second pause before the man took a deep inhale through his nose. Fair do's, Bill. Fair do's.

it your way. The dull, drawn-out shrieks of Agent Daniel's tongueless mouth screeched through our landline as he was dragged off out of audio range of the call. It was hard to tell with no pronunciation, but we were all pretty sure he was screaming the words, please, no, we all could tell he was sobbing too. I didn't think this night could get any worse. Then the speaker projected the man's voice again. Now then, but Jessica's mother. on the phone, please. We all gasped. Our eyes widened and I felt my pupils dilating.

There was no way this was going to be good. Jessica's mom took the receiver from Agent Johnson. She's already fighting back tears. These people didn't seem to care, though. She dived right in. Hello, please, please just give me my little girl back. She's a sweet little girl who hasn't done anything. Mommy! Mommy!

Jessica's voice interrupted her mother's feeble attempt at appealing to the kidnapper's better nature. These people didn't have one. Oh my God, baby. Yes, I'm here. Everything's going to be okay. I'm here and we're going to get you home, I promise. The man came back on the phone. Hello, Mrs. Adams. I need you to know that this isn't anything personal. It's just business.

Scrap what I said earlier. this right here this was the worst moment of my life this was when we all knew this isn't the way i wanted it to go down honestly he almost sounded sincere the FBI stepped on our toes one too many times and they've made us very angry a message needs to be sent i hope you understand oh please tell the matthews family that we'll see them very soon that dead is still owed and we will collect Jessica's mom knew at this point what was to come All she could do was to find the strength To try and comfort her little girl and be there for her

In what was no doubt unimaginable hell for her The image of her shaken frame and tears bursting from her eyes Will forever stay with me To her credit she did her best to remain strong Telling Jessica everything would be okay She started to sing her the last lullaby down the phone from when Jess was five years old and under the weather. The song always made her feel better.

Every kid has that one song their mum sings to them when they need comfort and warmth. I hope it gave Jess some sense of her mother's presence in those last moments. I think I have a lot more issues than I do now, had Agent Rodriguez not acted as quickly as he did. He dived over the dining room table to switch off the speakerphone just as a sound of an electric drill revved to life and Jessica began to scream in abject terror. We all watched Jessica's mom attempt to hold herself together, tears leaking from her eye sockets. Jessica's father embraced her mother in a state I'd never seen him before. We all watched the last of her soul shatter as she sang, hushed little baby, into the phone,

as Jessica screamed in pure agony for her mom and dad to come save her from the bad man. She stayed with Jessica until the very end. We never heard another voice on the line after the screaming stopped. The phone went dead almost immediately afterwards. Jessica's mom collapsed when the caller hung up. A unit arrived shortly after the call went dead. It was from the US Federal Witness Protection Program. They gave my family all new identities and relocated us out of the country.

Apparently that was also part of the document we'd signed earlier. We weren't safe anymore. and needed to disappear. Well, I can't give much more detail on this for obvious reasons. It was just that our family had to go missing. The FBI concluded

it was unlikely the swarm would come for Jessica's parents. Their debt was paid, and they'd hurt them enough. We said our emotion pat goodbyes and offered what fortuitous condolences we could muster. We packed our essential items in the ten minutes we had

before a black sedan came to collect with a SWAT team escort sandwiching our ride. And I watched my home for the last 13 years, fade away into the distance as me and my parents in Barton, our new life, away from this nightmare. Apparently, while we were being removed from the country, the FBI finally traced the call made to our landline.

It led to a remote location way off the grid just outside of our state. The FBI in Evidence Response Team followed up to some old abandoned storage facility. There, they found the remains of three bodies, Daniels, Ramsey, and Jess. We were told one was totally dismembered. One was hanging by their neck from barbed wire attached to the roof support beams, and the other had been drowned in boiling hot oil.

They didn't tell us which was which, but when Jessica's mom went to identify her body, that was the final straw. She committed suicide the next day by overdosing on her. prescription, diasma. Her father is reportedly still alive, but by all accounts he's turned to a life of alcohol and antidepressants. Our handler says she doubts she'll see out the year at the radio's going. It always hurts to hear the lasting damage of this horrendous event. I hope they all find each other again someday. We're me and my family have settled now in our new home. We're making a go at a normal life, but we will all forever be molded by the events of that one

night. I won't walk anywhere alone. I have severe separation anxiety and it's affected a lot of my romantic relationships. I can't keep a boyfriend for longer than a month as I can't talk to any of my boyfriends about my issues and where they stem from as it's against my Witsack agreement. Our case handler says we're the luckiest people she's ever met and we need to embrace this gift that we've been given. We're the only family to have ever been targeted by the swarm and make it out alive. All the other families out there like me and my parents weren't as fortunate. Well, I doubt I'd use the words lucky and fortunate. Our handler wasn't there that night listening to those people die in some dark, dingy old building screaming for mercy.

But at the same time, I do get where she's coming from. I always read the online news articles for my old town and surrounding states to keep an eye on the alarming number of rising and missing person cases. It's horrified. mainly young girls too who just vanish from their homes and neighbourhoods without a trace the swarm is responsible i know it well even though i'm told i'm safe now and getting on with the rest of my life i always find myself coming back to three things from that night one the look of jessica's mum's heart-breaking as she sung her baby to sleep for the final time a moment that haunts me on dark nights two the last moment me and Jessica shared together before she was taken that lingering warm smile we gave each other as she stood in my bedroom doorway the treasure I truly hold dearly on those same dark nights

and three the common agent Johnson quoted about Damon Ramsey in regards to his own Witsack agreement protecting him from the swarm when he comes to these people that we're dealing with there's no such thing as immunity And so once again We reach the end of tonight's podcast My thanks as always

To the authors of those wonderful stories And to you for taking the time to listen Now I'd ask one small favor of you Wherever you get your podcast wrong Please write a few nice words And leave a five-star review As it really helps the podcast That's it for this week

But I'll be back again same time, same place And I do so hope you'll join me once more Until next time Sweet dreams and bye-bye.