Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S6 Ep324: Episode 324: Utah Hiking Horror

Episode Date: March 17, 2026

Tonight’s terrifying feature length wendigo story is ‘There's a deceiver in the hills of Utah’, a wonderful tale By rephlexi0n, kindly shared directly with me via my subreddit and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission: u/rephlexi0n r/DrCreepensVault/comments/11co96u/theres_a_deceiver_in_the_hills_of_utah_1/

The Bell Air Direct app includes crash assist, which detects an accident the moment it happens, and even offers you emergency assistance at the tap of a button. Okay, but what if I don't have an accident? Well, just keep on, keeping on. Bell Air Direct, insurance, simplified. Conditions apply. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's dungeon. Well, it is said that gold is a luxury, but that trees are true necessities.

Man can live and thrive without gold, but we cannot survive without trees. But that doesn't mean that trees and forests are safe havens, as we'll see in tonight's stories. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. And let's begin. In the world of a private reporter, one can and likely will be subject to a variety of strange occurrences. The allure to this, for me at least, is that I see.

strive to be the first to document them and decode the underlying mystery. The story I'm working on at the moment is unlike anything I've seen before. Truly, it's the most bizarre incident I've ever had the pleasure of investigating. Well, maybe pleasure isn't the right word to describe yesterday's events, but I'd be a liar to say that this one hasn't got me riled up. My name's Lewis Amor, though most refer to me as Lou in person. Perhaps excessive syllables aren't worth the time for most. but I've ever objected to the name. I've been a private reporter, investigated to an extent,

for the majority of my adult life. I suppose that in some ways my passion is similar to that held by mountain climbers, cabers, and other such hobbyists, the endless search for virgin territory to sink my teeth into it. But, as evidenced by my experience,

some things are not worth the intrigue are better left alone to stagnate outside of public awareness. I'm getting ahead of myself. Now, let me begin at the beginning, at the flame which ignited the trailing view. I live in a relatively large town in Utah, you know, the red rock type of place, roiling summers and usually mild winters. The cold is dispelled much by the town's surroundings, sheltered by hills and mountains, though. On the flip side, it turns into a green house out of hell in the hotter months as a result.

Now, all of this started yesterday. I've been running dry on juicy stories to dig into for a few weeks, and I was just going about my weekly routine. I found myself ambling down the crack pavement, heading to my favourite grocery store to stock up. I mean, there wasn't anything massively special about Rockermark, but I always found the staff there to be the friendliest of all, often finding myself late to other deadlines for the day as I lost myself in conversation with Jimmy, the store clerk. My usual venture was cut short when I spotted a boy stumbling down the road. Not the pavement, the road. It couldn't have been more than 17.

He seemed to be in a fugue state. This wasn't a huge shock to me, seeing as the heat could quickly force heatstroke on a person if they aren't careful about sunscreen, water intake, even in the spring months. I slowed my pace, scuffing my trainers on the asphalt, whipped out my phone to take a recording of this, just in case anything concerning happened.

It took a considerable amount of time for the teen to wobble his way close enough to discern anything else. But when he did, my worry started to blossom upon seeing the details. The first thing I noticed was his eyes. He didn't seem to have any control over them whatsoever. Instead, they were lazily rolling around in his sockets, like poorly fitting glass eyes. Full-on googly eyes.

I'm glad I decided to film me in retrospect, because it became a person. that he was babbling about something. His words were messy as if haphazardly plucked out of an alphabet soup. The only words I caught at the time were, We take, it takes, can't stop knowing, and give it back. Of course, all this meant nothing to me at first,

simply the sun-beaten ramblings of someone who needed assistance. I moved toward him with the intention of helping, which seemed to draw his attention. He almost tripped over as he turned toward me, before messily walk jogging his way over. In an instant he had his dry, almost scaly hands wrapped around my shoulders, uttering further nonsense in an apparent attempt to tell me something of utmost important. I kept recording, though the footage consisted only of the boy's dusty tank top and frayed jean shorts. Other than his previous phrases, I wasn't able to catch much else,

other than his frequent repetition of variance of... Stop thinking. I tried to prime myself from his grip, but his hands were white-knuckled in determination to tell me something, an effort which in the end amounted to nothing. He started to panic, fearing he might accidentally hurt me in his stupor. Images of my skull cracked open on the curb flashed across my mind,

when a strange movement within his eyes caught my attention. It looked like his eyes were reflecting some dazzling light source, dancing around on their glassy surfaces. I only saw this for a moment before the kid's eyelids drooped, and he loosened his grip. He proceeded to stumble his way down the road a while longer, before catching his foot on the curb and meeting the fate I previously imagined awaiting them. He had a sickening crack as his forehead struck the dry pavement, and the shape of his head notably shifted on the inside.

Of course, I was stunned at what I'd just witnessed, but I was present enough to notice that despite such a fairer, head injury, blood leaked from his head as infrequent droplets, leading to bright crimson splashes against the contrast of the drab asphalt. Now normally such an accident would leave a miniature sanguine pond in its wake, but not this time. And the weight of the situation hit me, and I resisted curiosity to reel myself back from dissociated all.

My camera app was still recording, so I ended the video and pulled up the keypad, dialing 911 and requesting immediate medical assistance. During the five to ten minutes before the ambulance arrived, I made my way over to the boy and rolled him onto his side. With his hair hanging back, I could see the injury in full, and it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. Still, no signs of life were left in the eyes of this poor kid, and his chest remained still.

What lay before me was no longer a person, no thoughts or hopes bounding around in that dead skull. The paramedics were quick. to swipe him up and ship him away. But the futility was evident in their expressions, eyes hanging low. After they drove away at the solemn speed of a hearse, I was left standing alone, with no evidence for what had just happened

other than a few straight red drops on the road and, of course, my footage. I went about my grocery shopping without any attempts at socialising and hurried home so as to review the footage, and most importantly to back it up. A mobile phone can be a fleeting thing in comparison to the online storage service I've been subscribed to for some years now. So I got home, unpacked, and set my focus on re-watching the video over and over, in hopes I could unearth something that I hadn't at first noticed. Honestly, the guy was so out of it I wasn't able to decrypt very much other than a few things.

First, I noticed a detail that had been glossed over before. Around the upper portion of the kid's head It was a very faint mark Circling the perimeter of his skull It was no surprise I hadn't noticed it Seeing as how faint it was But it looked like something like Well, a pink scar tissue

There's no point in going any further with this With no background on this guy But it went into my notepad nonetheless Second and lastly I was indeed able to make out some more of his words But the rest remained a nonsense typical tumble dryer of letters and sounds. Most of what I could discern is irrelevant to my writing here, but at two points in the video I distinctly made out the words,

North, Northwest, Western, in the hills, up at the, between those peaks, the red and the dust and the red and the rust. This may seem useless to even consider building upon, but as a journalist, list those words made a big difference in this new project. Well, not at first. At the end of the day, it was just a tragic event, a life removed too soon. But my loose transcript proved its worth after meeting with one of my good friends, Davis, who just so happened to be in the local police division. I contacted him about what had happened, and to my surprise, it replied with an invitation, rather than just the fleeting interest I'd expected. Apparently an autopsy was required as boy's death couldn't be sufficiently explained by his head injury, which was found to be minor.

Davis asked if he was free to meet in a local park later in the day, so we could discuss the mystery surrounding this kid. Something about a staggering post-mortem discovery. So, as planned, I met with Davis on the Jerusalem green. I found him smoking on a park bench overlooking the park. But he didn't seem overjoyed upon seeing me. He looked more, well, paranoid than anything. After finding my seat, he skipped any formalities and was straight to the point.

So, uh, you know, I could get in a lot of shit for this, Lou. I don't want to be here too long. Yeah, yeah, of course. I really appreciate your help here, man. Okay, I'm gonna make this quick. This, well, this is the kind of case

that gets the attention of the higher-ups. I'll tell you, this once and once only. Kid's name was Aidan O'Leary. His serious tone quickly had the same effect on me, and I lowered my voice, glancing left to right a couple of times to make sure we had no unwelcome eavesdroppers. He sat in silence for a moment, as I stared at Davis expecting him. So, you know how they had to do the autopsy?

I couldn't determine a believable cause of death, so they cut him open, yada yada, well, They, um, they ended up examining his brain, soaring through bone. You get the picture. Damn, that's, did they figure out what happened to him? Brain damage stroke, something like that. They found nothing. Oh, well, that's unfortunate, I guess. No, Lewis. They found nothing. Literally. The kid was hollow-headed, not in the metaphorical sense, no brain, not even residual parts. Some evil fuck cut his head open, most likely. Even being second-hand to this revelation, I was shocked and appalled that anyone could do this to an adolescent.

It dawned on me after processing what I just heard, a glaringly obvious sore thumb about the whole thing. Well, then, what? How was he alive? How long for? My question, guarded no response. Instead, Davis just sat there, dead-eyed, and slowly shaking his head. Well, I relented, and just sat with him, sharing a moment of baffled silence. I can't tell you anything else, man.

I'm already risking my job, so if you don't mind, I'll be off now. Nice seeing you. With that, he was gone. back to his daily schedule. The walk back was slow. Energy redirected into my thoughts as I ran through the endless possibilities of explanations which might change the pure impossibility of the incident. Even after getting back and sitting at my desk, my fingers lay idly on the work surface

as my mind raced in a desperate effort to understand. Well, I haven't come to any adequate conclusion yet, so I've decided I'm going to go look into the kid's identity. See if I can't find it so. figure out what he's been doing, where he was last seen. You get the idea. When I'll be contacting my partner in crime, Annie, also a journalist. Hopefully she'll help in having a different perspective, something like that. Hopefully she's not too busy.

Honestly, I have a feeling she'll shove whatever she's working on in favor of looking into this. So if it works out, we'll be spending the rest of the day during research. The Bell Air Direct app includes Crash Assessing. which detects an accident the moment it happens and even offers you emergency assistance at the tap of a button. Okay, but what if I don't have an accident? Well, just keep on keeping on.

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Oh, hail. A lot has happened during the last day or so. I've calmed down a bit, so hopefully my writing will make some sense. Much to my delight, Annie was enthralled to join me in this, and came over to my place pretty much as soon as the text appeared as read. I brought her up to speed on the info I'd gotten, thanks once again to Davis. Annie is much more techy than I am, so she took the reins in researching any possible leads

concerning the kid's online presence. After a few search queries and new tabs, she found a matching Facebook page for Aidan O'Leary. Luckily for us, he seemed to be quite active on the site, posting pictures and videos of events and places. he'd been to. Of course, what we were looking for was anything that could hint to us at his last known location. Lo and behold, it's exactly what we found.

Well, we assumed that to be so, given his following radio silent. It was a selfie picture of himself and a friend on a hiking trail somewhere up in the hills. Both were kidded out with a generic set of backpacks, cargo shorts, sunglasses, and the whole package. The image was captioned. What a great day to be out in nature. Wish you guys could see the view from up here. Even better, there was a location tag on the post. Nothing specific, of course,

but it was labelled as being in or around the Salt Point Trails, a network of time-worn paths hewn throughout an area of the local hill range. The place was almost a 50-minute drive-away, which, in the scale of the country, is nothing at all. With some additional link-clicking, we discovered that the buddy he'd been out with, along with himself, had also been reported missing over two weeks ago. I don't mean to be rude, Davis,

but during that time I hadn't even heard of this, let alone any efforts to track them down. Anyhow, Annie and I had a free schedule for a good few days, so we decided on heading out there straight away. He made sure to pack all the necessary things, food, hiking poles, a small tent, probably more power banks than we need is. Well, you get the picture.

I may be a journalist, but I've gone on my fair share of treks living in this part of the country. I mean, how could you not? I'm sure it can get sweltering in the summer months, but quite frankly, that's easily ignored in favour of seeing the exquisite landscape. Besides, it's spring anyway. Not too hot, not too cold. Just about right. I was relieved to find Annie's backup screenwash bottle by the time we arrived.

must have used two-thirds of the tank already washing away the orange dust that gathered around the windshield the way iron filings would to a magnet and he isn't a small person by any means but with myself being six-one i was bestowed the burden of carrying the heaviest load in other words i ended up lugging the tent bag up rocky arid slopes and through spiky tall grass no luck found us for over an hour as we plod it on through the heat After summiting a particularly merciless hill, I was caught off guard by Annie pointing something out with an abrupt... Hey, look! Came to a stop and dropped my pack, giving myself a breather.

What? If you're gawking at those trees over there, just keep in mind we didn't come out here to absorb nature. No, Lou, look at the ground over there. I follow the direction of her outstretched finger to see what looked like heavy and rushed footprints in the sand ahead of us. They weren't anything special, maybe left behind by a jogger or something. I didn't really understand what had Annie so captivated.

You really need me to point it out for you? An investigative journalist? She gasped, still out of breath. Yeah, actually. They're just footprints. No, look. Clearly, whoever made these was running in the opposite direction to us, and they leaded off the trail just over there.

I looked over in turn and she was right. It still wasn't anything particularly noteworthy, but it did stir my thinking brain into wondering where this person had come from, out in the brush, why they'd been in such a hurry. No stone left unturned, Annie said smuggily. That's not even how you use that... Okay, fine, noted.

We continued along the track. Head swivel to the left to see if we could, could track the prince any further. To our surprise, the prince came back up onto the trail, at which point a large area of scuffed sand and rocks became apparent. Hmm. The scuffle looks like. What from, though?

I pondered. Annie simply nodded as she observed the surroundings, panning around for any further details. She seemed to do a double take and stared at something. Um, does that look like a rock to you? you, she said, her tone lowered. I gazed over to what she was looking at and was struck with a similar confusion.

A football-sized stone lay beside the disturbed sand, but I'd never seen anything like it. Parts of it shone, glistening with an odd, desaturated hue. I say that because the stone here is generally orange or red, the spots where the sun glinted off, almost dazzling, almost closer to grey in colour. On top of that it had a bizarre texture to it, wavy and grooved, almost like...

Annie cautiously approached the foreign object, then crouched down, swiping brunette strands out of her face. She prodded it with her walking-pong. My brow furrowed further when, in response, the thing jiggled, like it was made of jelly. Wait, no, it's... Holy shit, Lou.

It's a brain. What? A brain. I'm no anatomist, but that looks awfully similar to a human brain. The realization made me recoil in disgust. With morbidly comedic timing, the smell hit my nostrils. The sickly sweet stench of past fresh meat, festering in the midday heat.

But it didn't smell. like your bog standard rodden flesh. No, there was an almost smoky hint to it. Well, I'm going to chalk that up to the sun acting as an open cooker. But after willing myself to inspect the brain more closely, I realized it was covered in scorches and severe burn marks. Hey, it doesn't look like there was any wildfire here, right? I asked Annie, who'd also noticed the oddity? Well, if there was, it was a stealthy one. She half-heartedly joked. Not the time, Annie. We should have turned back then. I don't know why we kept going. Maybe because I'd been running dry on meaty stories, and maybe to get to the bottom of this conundrum, I don't know. It was irresponsible, yes, but something deeper in the

mountains was calling out to me, asking me to come and see what it was hiding. The train was more forgiving now, at the very least, and the sunset came a cool blanket of dusk air, which felt great. We settled on walking for another 40 or 50 minutes before setting up camp and calling it a day. I couldn't help but feel uneasy, hiking through the quickly darkening valley, though thankfully the right of the path was mostly clear, giving the growing moonlight a straight shot to illuminate our roots. Darkness took residence in the shrubs and trees around us. At some point, I can't remember when. I had the distinct feeling that we were being watched from somewhere out of sight.

A few times I thought it heard rustling nearby, but remained vigilant, keeping the lid on the creeping dread that wished to overtake me. I was so focused on settling my mind that I didn't even notice Annie had stopped dead in her tracks, and I bumped into her back. Went to apologize before seeing her frozen stance. understanding it was best to keep quiet. I followed her gaze to see. My horror.

A hairy face peeking out from the bushes to our left. The fluorescent green ice shine from Annie's torch betrayed a god-dammed mountain lion. Of course, just our luck. The bastard had probably only just now come out to hunt and its eyes were set on us. If you ever come across a mountain mountain, line out in the hills, you can be sure that it saw you a good while before you notice.

It seemed to register its hiding place had been foiled, and it slinks out onto the path ahead of us. Slowly, back away, I whispered it. I remembered then the rule of making yourself as big as possible, but we had no coats to spread open, so I came closer to Annie and said, Hey, get up on my shoulders, quick. She understood my intent and followed my instructions after I'd bent down onto one knee. I grasped her shins in my hands and stood back up with some effort.

The big cat didn't seem to like this and recoiled momentarily before composing itself and letting out a low ground. You've ever heard the growl of a mountain lion. You'll understand the primal fear it instills. methodically it resumed its movement toward us testing the limits to see how close it could get before striking panicking I kicked a stone at it with as much force as someone carrying a person could give yowled in surprise for a second

but this one was determined and continued its approach it was then that the rapidly forming cloud formation that smothered the moonlight came to my attention somewhere far above the peaks ahead swirling great clouds grew into a dense mass of mind-bending coils. It happened so suddenly that I almost dropped Annie. An intense light flickered on from somewhere inside that murky nebula before an intense beam of light erupted from within.

It was the most powerful spotlight I'd ever seen, panning across the valley in cicada-like movements, searching for something. Every time it swibbled, a distant vibration could be. heard, which I imagine is what also drew the mountain lion's attention away from us. Before I could even turn all the way to look, the white floodlight fell upon it. Instantly, the cat fell onto its side, yowling and screeching while it convulsed in pain. Even from a distance, I could see its hairs singed and smoke, its skin bubbling as if exposed

to the surface of the sun, before pale white flame spewed out from its eyes, it was. ears, nose, and mouth. And in an instant, completely engulfed the wailing animal. The poor creature screamed unrelentingly for what felt like hours, when in reality, more like 20 seconds or so, until just as quickly as it had settled, the spotlight started its frantic motion once more. Annie broke our shared stupor and pushed herself off of my shoulders with adrenaline-fueled agility. She grabbed me by the wrist and hauled me over to a large boulder off to the right to take cover. Mere seconds after we'd reached it,

the gleam cast the rock shadow, which stretched out far behind us. And there we sat, shivering in fear, contrasting the unmoving light that waited for us to emerge. For the following five minutes, my heart yearned to leap out from my chest. And so, when we were once again plunged into darkness,

the relief washed over me in ways. I waited another few minutes, looking into Annie's wide grey eyes, before daring to glance out from behind the rock. Those clouds were gone, but underneath where they once were I saw something that, somehow I hadn't initially seen. There looked to be some building higher up on the slope of a large hill. It was dark and distant,

but even then I recognised the architecture to be unlike any other structure you might find in the state, or hell, the country even. After feeling like I'd stared longer than I considered safe, I returned behind the boulder and looked over to Annie, who was just as shaken as I was. With an effort to ignore the smell of burnt hair and flesh, we set up our tent without a word and climbed inside.

Thank God there's reception out here. The sole fact of having access to the internet calm my nerves enough for me to ride this up. Well, we're going to sleep this feeling off, hopefully. I haven't told Annie about that building up ahead. I'll show her tomorrow. But even then it'll take some convincing to get her to come. I know. I know.

How could I possibly want to go any further after what I've just seen? I'll call me crazy, but the events of today have only added more fuel to the fire of my intrigue. Part three. This may be the last time I'll ever be able to talk. After the shit, Annie and I had to witness today. I'm not longer sure we'll be able to return with our story. Maybe all will be in the end, a faces printed on paper posters, piled up in a dust-ridden cabinet with the rest of them.

I've compelled to write this, so that at least someone out there will know where we went and what's happening here. Okay, just needed to get that out there. Here's the events of today. Hey, good morning. You sleep okay? was my first sentence of the day, knowing full well that neither I nor Annie got any sufficient rest. I don't think anyone could, after watching a mountain lion, be torched into a mass of blackened flesh and bone by a giant spotlight in the sky.

After we got up, I hesitantly went over to the remains of said animal to get a closer look. As a journalist, you have to overcome even the most repulsive of details for the sake of having an accurate writer. well as I'd expected the mountain lion now more closely resembled a flaky hunk of charcoal completely burnt out but even in this state tiny flickering sprites of those pale flames danced around the edges of its frame as well as inside its mouth I took pictures of course all the more resources to use later on however morbid and he stood at a distance letting me do the examination she crossed her arms each grasping the other, her face painted with a pitied grimace.

She was most definitely reluctant, but her interest was stolen away after I pointed out the peculiar structure a mile or so up ahead. That isn't to say she'd brushed off this situation. What is that architecture? It's so familiar, but not exactly, Annie said, bemused, still with some lingering anxiety. Reminds me of those little Hindu temples. You know the...

What's the word? Recurcet. I think the right term is teared, but yeah. That there's an entrance, though. It looks more fitting for a Buddhist monastery, replied Annie. A search for the structure she was referring to and quickly came to a similar conclusion. We were still too far away to make out any finer details,

but a large doorway on its left side was embraced by a curving, frame-like structure, accented with red and gold. "'Well, should I go check it out?' I asked. Annie went to speak, but hesitated, and the word sat on her tongue. He breathed, and then said shakily, "'That's where that—that thing was above there, right?' "'I mean, yeah, but couldn't penetrate a simple rock, let alone a whole building.

"'Plus, it doesn't seem to like the daylight. "'Come on, Annie, this could be the big. biggest scoop of our lives. Admittedly, I cringed a little at that last statement, but it seemed to lighten her mood of it. Still took some more convincing, but eventually she acquiesced. God, how could I have been so stupid? It wasn't worth it. It really wasn't worth it. We made it to the slope below the building in good time, but the climb was definitely the most challenging. The loose rocks and grass provided poor foothold. and I became confused as to how anyone was intended to travel to and from this place. By the time we reached the top, we were both coated in sticky burrs from the knee down. Those spiky little balls, I mean, those things that cling on for dear life no matter how you try to brush them off.

And it was even more beautiful up close, intricately carved supports lining the outside, and the gold paint which glimmered with pride. I stood outside for a while, and I took some photos, obviously. During that time we neither saw nor heard any signs of life at all. While this eased us into entering, also had a vaguely sinister undertone. All that was just feelings from first impressions. But we should have listened to our guts.

Entering, we made it a short distance in before a robed figure revealed themselves from behind a pillar, with such elegance that the lustrous fabrics seemed to dance. Annie was startled, but I jumped backwards at least three feet. The person, who we found was a man, was dressed in blue, red and white robes, and had a slightly off-putting haircut. Concentric rings of shaven hair centred around the top of his head.

He looked between us once, twice, his mildly irritated expression grew into a knowing smile. Welcome, France. You know this is trespassing, yeah? Oh, um, yeah, um, sorry. We were hiking through the area and saw this place up above. Decided to check it out. Look, we'll leave if it's causing any trouble. I apologized. Oh, don't fret. This is a place of peace. If you'd like, I can show you around this haven. All I ask is that you do not raise your voice.

I looked over to Annie, then back to the man, and nodded in silent agreement. Wonderful. My name is Domimica. I'm a priest of sorts. Nice to meet you, we said in unison. Now, please follow me this way. There is much for you to see. This was crazy. What religion was being practiced here, I wondered. There weren't any giveaways in particular, but my attention was quickly drawn to the bizarre layout of the place. We turned and snaked through. narrow corridors, like navigating a maze. And the thought occurred that, in an emergency,

we might not be able to find our way out alone. But I pushed that notion away after Domimico led us into a long room, wider than the passages before. The sides of the chamber were carved into large steps, upon which sat several monks, appearing to be deeper in meditation than I thought possible. I could just barely make out the gentle rising and falling of chests, but no other movement otherwise. Each monk wore a strangely shaped hat. They were shaped like a funnel, one end wider as if to fit over their heads, and the other upper end also found out into a smaller open mouth. He stealthily snapped some pictures of the scene, hoping our guide wouldn't notice. He didn't, I thought so at least.

Annie then piped up, intrigued. So how long do these guys stay like this? I mean, per day I mean. Oh, it varies much. We have no desire nor need to rest in this state. Some have been communing here for months. Oh, there's a year or more. What? A year?

No one can meditate for that long, can they? Annie's confused barrage had no. effect on domimica as he continued his slow strides down the length of the room as i have said they commune not meditate you are indeed correct even the most dedicated are unwilling to empty their mind for such long periods this is not what our practice entail i was hooked now communing what do you mean he didn't reply instead becking us to follow him to the next location of interest. After more of the same coiling tunnels, we emerged out into the biggest room yet.

The outer walls were lined with small carved pillars, which segmented the view of the scenery, and the floor was so polished I could practically see the paws on my face when I looked into it. Incense burners littered the area, and what appeared to be brass tools of some kind were hung on the pillars. But by far the most staggering feature was the gargantuan object that rested in the centre of the room. Dozens more monks encircled this object, all still and silent statues. The more I tried to work out what this thing was, the more I was pulled to it.

There was some allure to it which transcended any rational explanation. Ah, here we are. This, my friends, is our connection to the great well, stalwart and steady. Annie was trapped in the same trance as I was, and slowly circled the artifact in all. Is it a tree? she asked. Dear me, no, chuckled Domimika. No, this is what remains of one of the nine beings. It's how we are able to communicate and weave our minds into the great well.

Upon processing his words, I came to the realization that we were standing before a skull of an immense proportion. The symmetry gave it away, but it didn't resemble any species I could think of, especially any of that size. This thing was bigger than a school bug. Scaffolding adorned one side, with steps leading up to the top. The square plates on its crown looked out of place, looked like a wooden hatch with a brass handle affix, thought back to what Domimica had said, and a question came to mind. You, um, you keep talking about it. this well. I'm guessing that's metaphorical. Like, it's not an actual well where you'd bring

water out from. Before I could get an answer, two others entered the room. A simple notion that there were more people here that weren't among the unmoving monks shocked me, if only for a moment. D'emimma's face lit up at this. Ah, good morning, year, Hemmi. I see that this one is ready, marvelous. Indeed, his affinity for the well is exceptional. I am sure of this, said the man called Yerhemi, in a rather breathy voice. He escorted with him a monk of younger age,

leading him to the wooden steps beside the great skull. They ascended, and upon reaching the top, Yerhemi gently grafted the young man's head and muttered something to him, in a whisper I couldn't quite make out. His face was solemn in that. moment, but that quickly fell away to a blank expression. The man then turned and knelt down over the hatch, reaching out his hand and pulling it open.

He remained on his knees and bowed his head forward, where he remained still. At this point I started recording a video of the ordeal. This was way too interesting to pass off. Yerhemi then produced a metallic object from somewhere. I didn't see how he could have stored it within his rows, but nonetheless there it was. It was a large, flat band shaped into a ring, bearing tiny mechanisms on the interior,

slit like holes with thinner protrusions emerging from it, and began to grow concerned when he leant down and carefully fitted the object onto the young man's head. Then he... Oh, fuck it all happened so quick. Yet Hemmy engaged a lock of some kind. Then with grateful, pulled out a lever from the ring I hadn't noticed before the switch was flipped

180 and the band was then twisted around the monk's head so much blood gushed down the man's face it was a spilled paint can of crimson hue he shuddered whimpered and cried all the while struggling to stay in place as Yerahemi performed one final twist with it him a repulsive sound of suction as he pulled the tool up and away, taking with it the top of the monk's skull. My legs felt weak. All I could muster was a frail whimper in response to what had just happened. Annie, wide-eyed, had one hand on the wall behind us, steadying herself. I forgot my phone was still recording, only capturing my feet on the shiny floor,

before I realized and stopped the video, sliding my phone away. I stammered out to no one in particular. I... I... I think we should go now. Annie, let's go. Domimika, interjected. My apologies, but I cannot allow that.

You agreed to see all that there is yet. You haven't yet witnessed the full ceremony. I made a move toward the doorway, and he brought his fingers to his lips in response. By blowing through his fingers, a high-pitched whistle rang out, and at the exact same moment four of the previously dormant monks shot up and walked toward us with purpose. In groups of two, they held Annie and myself by the arms and turned us to face the grotesque ritual once again. This time, Yer Hemmy held a pair of long-handled scissors,

and inserted them into the slit made at the base of the young man's skull. He snipped once, twice. Three times and then removed the instrument. Next, in the horrifying slideshow of surgical operations, he used what I presume to be the same scalpel that had made the previous incision and began to slice away at the edges of the exposed gray matter. Off peeled the translucent veil from the brain's folds, yet he allowed it to slide out into his hand with a wet slap.

Please, please, I don't want to look. Let us go. I yelled. as your hemi once more held the bloodied scissors. Reaching down into the vacant cranium, he went on to cut twice, severing what I can only imagine to be the poor man's optic nerves. I heard the monk whispering. Dark, it's dark, felt hot vomit churn in the back of my throat as the freed brain was held up, like cimber in the Lion King,

before it was dropped into the open hatch, and it was gone. The hatch was closed and Yehemi returned to the monk with the circular instrument, still holding the skull's upper half. He placed it back onto the man's head and fastened it with a twist of some dial or not. By this point, the monk whose body had been so violated

now look calm, serene. No more did agonized gasps to escape his mouth and his shivering slow to a stop. Yet hemmy bent down, then rose again holding a metal jug of some kind. He opened the lid, allowing steam to billow out and plunged a brush inside. Bringing it out, I could see it was now coated in hot, melted wax, which he then painted around the head of the newly thoughtless monk. Finally he produced another of those funnel-shaped hats

and pressed it firmly onto the man's head, holding it for several moments until the wax had set. It was over, thank God. The monk rose to his feet and was escorted back down the scaffolding. After reaching the floor, he paced out into the room on his own and sat down amongst the others in silent community. Well, I could only repeat, Why?

Though the more pressing question that didn't occur to me at the time was, How? After a deep inhale, Domimika declared, It's glorious it is. The day a person was lost, but a receptor gain. Who will one day be accepted by the vast well, and guide us in the forthcoming day. I was dumbstruck at how the man in front of me saw joy in whatever the fuck had just happened. Still, a false hope grew that we'd been subjected to all he intended us to see.

Okay. That was definitely something. Can we go now? And he said in a weak and croaky voice, I implore you, stay. If your thoughts are of pain or worry, dispel them. We have no intent on harming you or your friend here. And with that the false hope was shattered into a thousand pieces

and we were practically carried by robotic monks to a room up in the next floor. They shut us inside and left us. The far side bore the same ornate pillars. They're much more closely packed together, so that they more resembled cell bars than anything. I waited for a few minutes and then tried to leave. The door wasn't locked, but swung open to reveal two of the stone-faced monks, as if they were waiting for me to try it.

In perfect synchrony, they stepped forward and shoved me back inside, pulling the door firmly closed once more. So, yeah, as of now we're being held against our will in some temple of an indiscernible faith. I said it once and I'll say it again. Thank fuck for the internet. I know what I do if I couldn't communicate what we're going through right now. I don't trust the priest, but I can only hope that he is no lie. I would say pray for us, but without God's grace covers this domain.

I still have the means to update everyone by the end of tomorrow. I'll be doing just that. But four. Hello all To any who are but growing concern ease your hearts I won't lie and say that I feel safe now For I don't believe this to be true

But I'm not in any direct danger Don't see the harm or mutilation I have seen here to await me I plan to leave tomorrow As being in this place is having an effect on me One which I no longer desire to experience But I fear that

that I'll leave here alone. Yeah, no, no. Perhaps that isn't the right word. Maybe the word for this feeling hasn't yet been conceived of. In any case, I don't like it. I don't like it here. Annie and I managed to get some sleep. In fact, the beds provided were quite comfortable

with linen spreads and woolen pillows to rest our heads. Yet I was awoken by something during the early hours. My eyes flickered open, but there was nothing noticeable at first that could have caused this. I had no need to use a restroom, nor was I thirsty. I searched for what could have possibly roused me for a while, until I realized that it had been there since I had emerged from sleep. A low harmony of uncountable tones sang out from somewhere.

I felt in particular that it came from somewhere above us, but with how the frequencies merged and separated, interwove and unwound, made it difficult to pinpoint. I had no worry, well, not at first. But the longer I listened, the more my mind became in tune with the soaring vibrations, and the less I found my ability to think clearly. My train of thought was constantly derailed, or switch lanes, without my conscious choice. The thoughts, musings, they became disordered, and often felt as if they were not my own.

When I began to make out voices. for lack of a better term. Not those that you'd hear spoken, travelling as molecular vibrations in the air. They were better described as how one might hear their internal monologue. Only the words and ideas conveyed were foreign, unfamiliar. They were not mine. I can't recall anything distinct with how they overlapped,

becoming one and then separate again in an endless chain of order struggling against entropy. I suddenly considered the notion that if I listened for too long, they would replace my own internal self entirely. That idea terrified me more than anything had before. I was quick to dive back under the covers and fold the pillow tightly around my head. The relentless cognitive noise settled,

and I found sleep again. I was disturbed once more, this time with faint orange rays pouring in through the gaps between the pillars. Unlike before, I immediately registered that a sound had woken me, and I shut up into a sitting position. position to see Annie had done the same.

Standing at the door, holding it open, was Domimaka. I hope you have found rest this night. I have brought some things to refresh the both of you, that I feel you will enjoy. He carried with him a large wooden tray, which held two steaming earthenware cups and an assortment of fresh foods.

I shot Annie an inquisitive glance, and her returned expression agreed the sentiment. Now, excuse my French, but the food was freaking delicious. I don't think I've ever had a more fulfilling breakfast in my life. And even now I strive to be able to cook a morning meal that could even begin to rival it. The cups held some kind of herbal tea, which invigorated my body and cured any lingering tiredness from my interrupted sleep. We ate cheeses, bread, fruits and vegetables, the likes of which never blessed my tongue with such wonders. My only complaint is that it was too good, and we were finished without taking the time to savour it.

Domimaka seemed pleased with our reception and waited patiently until we were ready to walk with him. The breakfast, fit for a lord, did not dispel the memories of what we'd experienced yesterday, though. I made an effort to bear that in mind. As we walked down a long, straight hallway, I gave Annie the liberty of asking the questions this time, but she definitely bordered on interrogation at some point. I chose to remain silent, in part because of the residual horror of yesterday's events. The monks here, the ones who sit still for as long as you've described,

how are they alive if their brains are gone? As I have said, they become receptacles in which the great well of thought may reside, in some capacity. Their minds are not here, but there is droplets of oil in an ocean. so that they are preserved as individuals. All the while, Annie was writing all this down on her notepad, as was I. Having two versions to compare is infinitely better than one, in my eyes at least. She continued with pre-planned questions, instead of delving further into the answers she received.

This well you talk about so often, what are you referring to? The huge skull you showed us yesterday? The great well of thought, my friend. Would you lend me your ear? Allow me to enlighten you on why this place came to be? Of course, Annie replied instantly. Domimikaa was silent for a time, seeming to ponder how to start the tale he was about to tell us.

His head tilted back, eyes closed, before he returned to composure and spoke. Before us, there were nine beings who wad the earth as one of its innate properties. Of these beings, they shared by, one mind, a vast sea in which their ideas, thoughts, and concepts came to fruition, and so would these manifest in the physical realm as they desire. However, despite the limitless potential for creation, they felt hollow deep inside,

while good were they as one perfect collective with nothing else to witness them. With much pondering, they conceived a free will, so they might create an independent being, but one with access to their great mind, in which they could think, honder and muse. As the source of the being's creations, the mind was something they could not replicate, so their only choice was to share a portion of their own. Annie seemed entranced by his telling, and had stopped writing. I kept on with it, though, as her backup. What good is a single living being with no companions,

no way to pass on their ideas and their memories? The beings understood this as well, and begot living creatures able to propagate through time. The mechanisms would vary, but most were successful. With each new generation came a variation in their beings, slight changes which morphed and shaped their forms over the ages. The wonder of evolution. At first, in the expansive oceans, they spawned primordial marine life. They observed, seldom interfering, watching his life began to,

vary, expand, change. For these beings, the wait for the first of the creatures to crawl onto the shore was but a fleeting moment, and soon the creatures are devolved to be far more complex, acting off their own volition. This went on, and here we are. Humanity. Mankind bred had families, expanded, and built their settlements. Again, for living things to think for themselves, the being had to share their well of thought. So was the nine-one-one-weread. So was the nine-werewerewerewere. watched from out of view, seeing the good, the evil, and all in between emerged from the minds of humanity. It began to take a toll on them. Their great mind became tainted, imprinted with the ideas, thoughts, and memories of all humankind. And as they advanced further than they

could have imagined, eons passed, and one by one, the nine beings began to perish in body. They traveled to remote and quiet places before their death. While only bones remain, they live on, inside the well of thought. Though I transcribed his words, I doubted each and every one. How many men have proclaimed their dogmatic truths, all claiming to speak the words of a deity, taking themselves for profits. Such is our single-mindedness.

For the beings, inventing life free to act on its own, was their greatest mistake. For while they hold unimaginable, power even now. They are not all powerful, and their sea of thoughts, while unfathomably vast, is not infinite. And each day it comes to be tainted, broken down, purely through the mere action of thinking. So the fate of humanity has come to be that one day they will have run dry the great well, and it will cease to exist, leaving all living things as beings of perception, nothing more. Egos will fade into nothingness, individuality forgotten.

no more will be born new memories no thoughts nor ideas nor concepts all that have existed throughout history will vanish leaving humanity to roam aimlessly as mindless beings acting purely out of instinct you would hear see smell and feel all to comprehend or remember nothing well admittedly i was impressed with the tale yet again mankind would condemn itself to eternal torment as it would condemn itself to eternal torment as it is is proclaimed in so many faiths. Perhaps there was an inherent loathing for those of our kind, as we walk amongst them. We sure love weaving narratives about Apocalypse and Armageddon. Something was missing, though. What exactly had Domimica, Yehemi, and the others devoted themselves for? What good was worship in the face of the inevitable? So, I asked, What's the point of all this, then? Your faith and how you insist on it.

Why, if we're all damned anyway? Well, he replied, seeming to already know I would ask this. It is the fate that is concrete no longer. Our founder encountered one of the nine in these hills, the skull of whom you have already witnessed, acting as a gateway of communication to the rest above, in the well of thought. I understand that our practice may seem rather,

brutal, but rest assured that those who commune are not in pain or even discomfort, after the initial right, at least, but that is a passing agony. Their minds are offered to the great well, and they remain in communion for as long as needed. When the pure white flames spout from their empty skulls, that is when they are truly ready to enter unity. So they are offered. There they remain alongside the Nine, quietly assisting as angels of youth. humanity. When the time comes, we will wipe clean the slate, purge the sea of all thought and

start anew. The angels will guide humanity in rebuilding their societies, ideas, and connections. I would hope that when the need arises once more in the distant future, our descendants will follow in our steps. I cannot say when this will happen, but the well runs dry, and it may come sooner than we believe. Even holding my skepticism, I couldn't help but shudder at the notion. To reduce every person to a mindless animal

then rebuild from the ground up. Every last memory of life of friends and family lost. Language, forgotten. If hypothetically this was all true, the plan Domimica described it seemed infinitely better than the alternative. Looked,

over to Annie, whose legs carried her along, but her mind was somewhere else. Despite the story being concluded, she still seemed ensnared in all she'd just heard. Annie, hey, broadsog calling Annie boy, I said to her, lightly snapping my fingers. Well, this worked in pulling her back to the physical realm, and she shook her head and rubbed her eyes. I remembered only then about the spotlight thing we'd encountered before reaching this place. Hey, um, About this wealthy. When we were coming up here, there was this huge beam of light coming out from these clouds. We were trying to fend off a mountain line.

This big spotlight darted out onto where we stood. And it burned, too crisp. Dimmemmachar was hesitant to answer, but relented. Yes, well, would you not hold some resentment for all those who caused your downfall and bodily death? We are exempt, of course, but there is hostile. against all beings that gestate thoughts within them. The judgmental eye you witnessed indeed dissolved the very consciousness of this animal. The thing bound so tightly to the body, the removal leads to annihilation.

That is why we are blessed, as the world allows us to persist, despite this separation of flesh and self. And that was all he was willing to share, apparently. He led us on silently, before we realized we were back at the skull room again. my memory isn't photographic, but I could tell that the monks had not budged a single millimeter from before. The memory is flooded back, and I slowed my pace cautiously. I have a proposition, Domimikar announced. I am willing to permit you a fleeting glance into the eyes of the receptors here.

I do not imagine you'll be able to remain for long, but I must offer you this as a courtesy. Do you accept? I was wary, but to my surprise, Annie jumped at the opportunity. There was a glint of something in her eyes that I didn't recognize. Something I couldn't help but think was not herself. I stood contemplating as she was led over and sat down between the others. D'emmikar crouched and leaned in close, cupping her head and whispering something to her.

At this, her back straightened, head upright. and she was still. He rose to his feet, then positioned himself so that he was directly behind her. His hand raised into a peculiar gesture, and after only a second he said, Good. Once more, then.

A couple of his fingers curled up, then once more he said, Good. After this strange interaction, the mimic car turned to face me, swiveling gracefully on his heels. well will you join your friend i didn't like this but i come too far to pass off the chance to validate any of these wild claims i was so stupid to doubt it all despite what i'd already witnessed but this contradiction irked me so i accepted de mcmacar took my hand and led me over beside annie i sat down crossed my legs and closed my eyes

I could feel him come down to my level, and he whispered to me what I previously not heard. Become one. The mind is fluid. Yours is yours, but also all, and so all is yours. Set free the bounds of your thoughts. Here into your true nature. As the last word was spoken, an electric feeling shut up my spine like nothing I'd ever felt before. I could feel it coursed through every single path of new. neurons, every portion of my brain ignited with a shock of newly found energy.

More intense it grew, and I felt the edges of my mind dissolve, the way the rubber peels away after a water blew in his pot. My eyes opened. Actually, it was more like I no longer had eyelids to hold clothes. I found myself elevated, higher up. Confused, I turned and looked down only to see my cross-legged body upon the polished floor. Domimekar already stood behind it, holding up his hand in yet another odd sign. For some reason it occurred to me to count the fingers he held a lot.

One, two, three, four. Very good, he exclaimed, and the realization dawned on me what the purpose of this was to make sure that I was indeed separated from my corporeal form. His fingers fluttered, so he now held up seven. I counted. Marvelous. It is now time for you to see our patron. Suddenly it was as if I was rocketed upwards, far into the heavens above.

All I saw was white at first, till the feeling of G's pulling on myself ceased and my vision cleared. In front of me was a vast plane. rippling like the ocean surface. And like the previous whiteness, it was mottled, sullied with sickening hues of green, purple, brown, like endless patches of bruise and rot,

eating away at the reality where I stood. Where I stood, well, it would be inaccurate to say where, because all at once I saw it from an infinity of angles and positions, as if I were peering inwards into my own consciousness. memories from places unknown filtered through me and I remembered lives I'd not live, names that were not mine, parents and children I'd never known. It occurred to me that I wasn't really sure on which of them were mine anymore, unable to disinguish between my own experiences and those of people who died long before my birth. Even so all these memories were fleeting. Not one stayed for more than a moment before being replaced by another. I was Shakespeare writing Macbeth. A bullet traversed my brain as Abraham Lincoln.

I hunted a mammoth with crudy-made spears. I was... I felt a scream. But with no body, I heard nothing. A tingling sensation overcame me in that moment, one of irretrievable loss that burned at the fringe of my psyche, stirring all that I was in a cognitive melting pot. Again, the sudden acceleration hit me. Before I knew it, my eyes were open, and I finally heard my own screams.

So bright, I felt blinded, like a flashbanger gone off in my face. A harsh stench hit me then. Something burning. Seathing heat that engulfed my face demanded my attention, and I could see fragments of the room through my hazy glare. I wasn't blinded. Bright, pale flames were rocketing out of my eyeballs, singing off eyelashes and the tuft of hair that hang over my forehead.

I smacked at the fire wildly with panicked wimper's. All I could manage at the time with the equally intense blaze spewing from my mouth. My face felt like it would melt away if this went on. The mimaca was at my side, and through some esoteric practice the flames dissipated. I sat in wide-eyed terror for a long time, before coming back to myself. The smell of burnt hair hung around us, and I could already feel the stinging pain over my face, lips and eyelids roar. As feeling returned, I remembered.

Annie! I whipped round to my right, fearing the worst, but saw her with the most serene look on her face, not an ember to be seen. And how could she be so peaceful in that place? I felt the question escaped my lips without realising I. spoken. Yes, she seems to be well attuned, doesn't she? It's rare to see such an affinity at First Communion. Exceptional, Demo McCar exclaimed. Yeah, it does seem that way. Why, I'm sorry for your experience, Fran. I shan't ask any more of you. He didn't return for a few minutes.

Supposedly, I was only there for about ten seconds. But in that place, That span felt like countless lifetimes condensed into a single moment. I couldn't fathom it, and I didn't want to, to be honest. We must have spoken for a long time as we walked before, as the sun had already started at its descent. We were led back to our guestroom, all the while Annie's spouting revelations and realisations that meant nothing to me. In my eyes, she was speaking complete nonsense,

things so far-fetched that I had trouble understanding what she even meant. and what I could tell it was like she'd been somewhere else entirely in comparison to what I'd seen that is. The abrupt change disturbed me. She seemed almost a different person. For God,

I'm so tired now. My eyes are begging to close as I write this, despite the swollen blisters over my face that burn more with every passing minute. Hopefully I can sleep uninterrupted tonight. We'll leave tomorrow, I'm sure of it. I can't imagine anything else Domimika could possibly have to show us.

I already know that I won't be returning as the one who came here, but I refused to lose any more. I worried more for Annie than for myself. I don't like how she was acting. The word sounded from someplace else. Yes, right. First thing tomorrow, we're gone. If we make it out, expect an update.

later tomorrow, but fine. I'm standing out in my garden at heart. It's sunny, but the clouds start to roll in, and quickly the weather becomes overcoves. Something's wrong. Long strands start

falling from the sky above, reaching down towards me. Try to move, try to run, try to do anything at all, but I can't move. They grabbed me and hoist me up, and pulled upwards further and further into the newly born blanket of gloomy clouds. Above me, the upside-down surface of a lake approaches at great speed

before I'm plunged into it and pulled through. I hang in a great abyss, held still by unseen forces. It's so cold. Things move around me in the murk, but I can't make out their shapes. They approach, curiously, and grow bolder. They reach out, nipping at my body. more and more start to attack each time stealing away a tiny part

of my body the assaults increase larger and larger parts of me had torn away and lost to the haze around me yet even after the last fragment of my body is taken away I remain I see and hear everything as a being of perception alone

but I cannot look around non-existent limbs refuse to cooperate no matter my yearning to scream no sound is produced from a mouth that is no longer there. It's torment and infinity. Sorry, I had to write all that down first. I wouldn't want to forget such an astounding dream.

Well, nightmare, really. As for the rest of this, I had a very hard time putting any of it onto paper. It seemed to have recovered now, but forgive me if there are things I've missed out. Following that terrible dream, I woke up in a frenzy confusion. I felt terrible, foggy.

Where was I? What was the time? The date? Who was I? Roaring my head, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress. I looked around to see another empty bed. Was I here by myself? Or was there someone else here? Someone else? Arthur. Angela. Anj... Annie? God. Where was Annie? Through the haze I somehow whirled my brain into recalling who I'd come to this forsaken place with you. I tried to stand up from the bed but my legs buckled and I toppled onto hands and knees. The cool stone floor definitely gave me strength,

dispelling some of the abhorrent mist that clouded in my head. Pushing myself back up with an effort that felt like the last rep of a push-up set. I found myself on my feet once more, albeit with wobbling knees. I reached a hand out to the wall to steady myself, and after gaining some composure, I was able to start walking. The door to this room hung wide open. There was no one outside. God, Annie, wherever they've taken you.

What are they doing to you? I stumbled and tripped down a seemingly endless hallway, and, like smoke or vapor, a man suddenly appeared in front of me. I bumped into him, but he caught me in his arms and hoisted me back up, both hands on my shoulders. My friend, are you okay? What are you doing?

He said with a concerned tone. Who the hell was this guy? Yet the weirdest haircut, like ripples on the surface of a pond, wore the most dazzling robes. Any shadow that fell upon them was washed away in place of their vibrant colours. I tried to speak, but my native language should not yet come back in its entirety. I... Where am I?

"'Where's Annie?' "'The man shot me a quizzical look, "'then took my hand, turning around and leading me somewhere. "'I think it's time you'll leave, for your own well-being. "'You will recover soon. "'I'll prepare a brew that should nurse you back into being. "'I don't remember the journey, "'but I found myself sitting on a bench with a steaming cup in my hand.

"'It was hot, really hot, and I dropped it reflexively. "'The man was still with me, "'and without a word, he filled another cup, placed it down next to me, clearing up the one that had just shattered on the ground. This time I waited to let the drink cool, and then drank half in one gulp. The warm sensation travelled into my stomach, and was pleasant, and the effects of its contents were made apparent as clarity found me again, and memories came flooding back.

I groaned, took a few deep inhales, then got up and asked, Can I... We... Please leave now. Dominic. Oh, sorry, Damimoka? Absolutely. I should have sent you on your way yesterday, regrettably. But alas, here we are. But before that, would you like to say your farewell? My farewells, yeah, of course. Thanks for the hospitality. I...

Oh, no, no, he interjected. I meant to your friend. A pang of adrenaline cut through me as I... I heard that. Why would I be saying farewell to Annie? Unless... What have you done? Where is Annie? I want to get her and leave. Where is she? Wordlessly, Domiukkah beckoned me to follow. With no other choice, I complied. And after a short walk, we arrived back in the skull room, complete with its burning incense, polished floor, monks. And Annie, God, Annie, no, please... I... Well, I was too late.

I didn't recognize her at first, but I recognized that shade of Brunette anywhere, tufts peeking out from underneath a funnel-shaped hat. No, fuck, no, Annie. How could you do this? I screamed, thrashing out of Dormica's grounds. Please stop this. I implore you. It was of her own choice to join us. Nothing was forced upon her.

I don't believe you. How the fuck could you possibly have done this? My weakened legs carried me to warns her, but again, that whistle sounded, and I was quickly restrained by a pair of brainless monks. I pulled, shouted, fought to escape, but it was no use. I think that's more than enough. The well speaks, and the presence of this man is welcome no more. Here, hemi, please escorted him out of here with haste. The other man, he had Hemi, appeared from nowhere, from somewhere behind me, and took my arm and a grip of steel.

It was unnatural strength from something else within him, something that shouldn't be there. No, no, stop, let me take her, please. The whole time my head was turned backwards, screaming out for Annie, even though I knew there was no possible scenario she could return with me. My throat was shredded by the time we arrived back at the entrance. There, Yerhemie halted his march and turned to me with a grim expression. You must leave this place quickly. The great well covets you now.

It has allowed you to peer inside it, but I can sense his revulsion to your gaze. Please run. Do not linger here one minute longer. In those final moments, I finally saw the pink scar tissue encircling his head. If I had the time to properly understand this, he pushed me forward. jump-starting my muscles into action. I tumbled down the slope and dust and brittle leaves. From above sounded a soul-twisting vibration, and I dared not look.

My descent was broken, and I rolled across the ledge, the path I'd taken with Annie to reach this terrible plate. All my limbs were scratched and scraped, but through a divine miracle nothing was broken or sprained. My shoes scraped across the ground, gaining traction, and I ran with all the, the energy I had left. As I fled, the sun's light began to dim, and a dark front slid over the ground, stretching far away from it. Nothing could distract me now, booking it at full speed

down the time-worn trail. Sounds like thunder erupted from far above, an awful crackling resonance that penetrated flesh and bone. Lung screamed, muscles burned. But none of that mattered. even if I never walked again I would absolutely choose that over being taken by incomprehensible madness the same one whose eyes were now on me without warning my foot caught on something and I rolled head over heels

gashing my cheek on a sharp stone in the process I forced through the dizziness and turned to sit upright a mistake oh what a mistake in doing so I'd unwillingly turned around to face back from where I came I tripped over some strange black object.

And it hit me then, what had hindered my escape. It was the same black and seared corpse of the mountain lion from days before. No more white flames this time, but... I don't know why, but I looked up. I immediately regretted this decision, as I saw those dark great coils tighten around each other in a way that made my head ache. Condensed, twisted, and grew impossibly

until a colossal blanket smothered the midday sky. It dwarved the formation we'd seen before, tenfold larger in size and span. Didn't want to acknowledge it, but the cerebral shape of the formation was obvious now. And then, they parted. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, the great cloud separated down the middle.

What I thought to be sunlight was re-emerging, clawing its way out of the dark mass. But it wasn't sunlight. It wasn't anything close. The sky between the clouds cracked and splintered, and it ruptured. A vast split cleaved apart of the heavens, widening into a gaping fissure, leading to somewhere else in town.

It was so bright. God, it felt like staring into a military flashlight. I had to shield my eyes from certain damage. The colorless void stirred. Out of the fractured sky, uncountable strands fell out like dangling ropes. They were huge, unfathomably so. They danced about the orange peaks like pale snakes. But they weren't.

They were that same pure, blinding flame that had plagued this journey. Every single one slivered through the air towards me, every last one. They were distant still, but even then I could feel the radiating hunger that wanted to eat all that I'd, I was, everything I'd ever known. It let out a shriek, which was retorted by a deafening wail, sound that was the embodiment of the collective despair of tortured minds. I hated it so much. Nothing since has come close to instilling the raw terror that I had in that moment. I scrambled to my feet and turned, almost falling again as my feet slipped on the ground. At that time I could have beaten the champion sprinter, doped by pure adrenaline.

I feared that I'd not been soon enough as I felt a weight, something of substance crawling out from my eyes and ears, caught in the gravity of my pursuer. The skin on my face bubbled, small patches sloughing away with my air resistant. For this day, I've never felt such a scathing heaves, as if the flames of Lucifer himself were reaching out to me, lapping at my soul. Dreading the loss of anything else, my mind went blank as all power was directed to my life. legs. My feet were in agony, slapping down on rocks and dust over and over, and my chest felt tight. I would still rather die from a heart attack than be caught. I felt my consciousness slipping, blotches covering my vision, like I'd stared at the sun for too long. I didn't slow down one bit, though. It was like my body had entered full autopilot. As the red and purple spots

spread over my sights, I heard words spoken to me. Well, not spoke. More like something had hijacked my internal monologue in order to convey itself. I'd return. Not yet. For thyself is sweet and succulent. Long as it be. That's all I could remember in any meaningful way. Invasive thoughts of oblivion swam about my head. At this point I was practically blind.

I don't remember much of the next part. There were several blinks in perception, and each time I caught glimpses, vague outlines. of new surroundings. The blinks became less frequent, and I came back to full lucidity to find myself teetering on the edge of a steep hill. I'd learn not to look and see what was behind now,

so I shot down the slope, almost skating with my trainers like skis. An intense flash of light hit my eyes, and I feared for the worst, but it went as quickly as it had come. Plenching my eyelids a couple of times to clear my vision, I could see that the light had been reflected off of it. of a vehicle's hood, the grey range rover, Annie's range rover.

Didn't even register to me at first that it was likely I didn't have the keys. In fact, I wasn't even aware of the pack slung over my back until I slowed to a stop and felt its weight. Tore it off, unzipping to reveal the content. No tent, of course, but I still had my notepad and laptop, mostly undamaged by some miracle. A few wires, empty wrappers. No key. My heart dropped, but I persisted and shook the bag up and down. There was definitely something rattling in there,

and I remembered the pouch on the side of the bag. The lip was hidden at first, but I reached in and grasped something cold and hard. I'm not saying I would live through all of that again to experience the same feeling, but the unadulterated, euphoric relief that rushed over me was incomparable. I did indeed have the keys to the rover. not skipping a beat I fumbled to unlock the driver's side door and clambered inside the first comfortable seat in hours I sat there for a good ten minutes before I even considered starting around

only my pulverized joints recover it'd be a real shame to die in a car accident after only just escaping with my life and sanity I won't bore you detailing the drive but I felt a deep sense of regret the whole way home surely I could have done something to save Annie. I mean, she didn't have any brain to speak up now, but I feel that killing her would have been a mercy.

It kills me to know that she's still out there somewhere. In the clutches of that thing. The shock started its onset barely five minutes from home. Burning pain radiating across my face was subdued. I just about managed to get back and park safely. I exited the car and opened my front door, stepping inside with total vacancy. I made it a few steps into the living room before.

Ultimately, my legs gave out and I collapsed from exhaustion. I woke up later, seeing it had already started to grow dark outside. For a blissful moment, I was spared the memories of all that had happened. I was short-lived, though, and as it came rushing back, my eyes widened and jumped up off the floor. I called 911 and requested an officer. Who could have guessed to see Davis standing on my porch after opening the door to urgent-sounding knocks? I explained everything.

Well, not everything in truth. I wasn't even sure if I could understand half of what I'd witnessed. I didn't want to come across as bat-shick crazy while giving a formal report, even if it was to David. I think he could tell I needed the rest and told me he'd come back. back tomorrow to discuss further. A missing person's report was filed immediately, since we'd already been out on the trail for a few days,

and a recovery team was sent to the Salt Point Trail. Well, the case was kept confidential, but I don't really know much beyond that. I even felt a pang of guilt, having them sent out to that place, in case they might also never come back. But what I do know is they never found any. Nor that it surprised me. Even if they did, she might as well be dead, and likely would be if she ever left that place.

I never want to go back there, ever. Fear of losing your entire cell, all that composes you is something I've never come to terms with. It's a feeling of unimaginable loss, becoming irretrievable in the hands of something old and something hungry. Still, I've tried to look into the place over and over again. There's nothing on satellite images. The strangest thing is that no matter how hard I try to remember, to try and remind myself of where it was or exactly how to get there, and never learn anything.

It's like the knowledge is permanently lost, like even if I were to dedicate every day of the rest of my life to discovering it, it turned up empty-handed, empty-headed, rather. That in itself terrifies me no end. The fact that something so trivial as a location is now, forbidden my mind repelling any attempts to relearn the whereabouts I know where the salt point trails are where the car was part but beyond that I cannot fathom I would

write for Annie here the whole if you're out there thing but I know in my heart that she will never find rest only eternal dissolution the total loss of everything unique and dear to her one could see it as a hell of sorts be an undying being of a unbiased perception, knowing and remembering all from everywhere, but without the ability to solidify any of those thoughts or memory. Well, I don't think I'm going to try and sell this story after all. It'd be an insult to my partner in crime, but even disregarding that, it would just read as a jumbled mess of nonsensical events, likely the deranged hallucinations of a sun-stricken man. So, I think I'll just keep this here.

This is a warning. There's something deep in the hills of Utah, and it's not benevolence. It's unnatural. A deceiver between the peaks. This is not just a piece of creative writing here. You were to encounter whatever's out there. You wish you'd never been born. Endless non-existence is child's play in the face of this.

I don't think anything I was told there was true. Or maybe, but a heavily warped truth. one that even the monks themselves could not see through. I fear for them all, but beyond a shadow of doubt, they have been deceived. What else can I say? You ever find yourself deep in the hiking trails of Utah or anywhere else,

and you see alien clouds whirling in the sky? Turn around, never look back, do your best to forget. There's nothing there worth investigating. It's not. worth it. 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.