The Dark Somnium - New Emergency Alert System Message | Scary Stories From The Internet

Episode Date: January 9, 2026

I hope you all have a great day! this is a remake of a story i did back when i first started, the main characters is a female character so i had @SpiritVoices do the main narration and i play a few characters and voices in it along with @RomNex and @DusklightRadio I hope you all are doing well and let me me know what you think! Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See https://pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Entry August 16th, Tuesday, 2016. M. Caliphs. I'm writing this from a motel in Redstone, Colorado. I've been in the same room for the past three days, and have only left to get snacks and bottled water. There haven't been any warnings on the TV yet, but I'm waiting. Will there even be warnings this time? Back in Glenwood Springs, where I'm from,

it started with the warning, the emergency alert system. You know the sound, the sudden silence, then the successive beeps followed by that flatline tone. When I heard the beeping and screeching, I assumed it wasn't anything to worry about, at most a weather advisory.

But how do you react? when this comes up. Intersection I-70 and Route 80. Locate closest relations. Grasp hands and sit where you are. Close your eyes and do not speak. Do not speak. Do not open your eyes.

Ignore all sounds. Do not react to tie. To follow cautionary measures will result in detection at the sound of four short beeps, followed by one extent. I want you to hear this before going into the rest, into the rest because if you do hear it, and I hope you never do, then know that all you can do is take care of yourself. You'll want to help your parents or siblings or partners, but you can't.

Please let me share this with you as crazy as it might sound, and it might help you. I lived with my mom in a small ranch house that sat close to the road just outside of town on Highway 6th. The sun had just gone down, and the sky still had errant remnants of fading colors. The sliding door leading to the small backyard was open, and there was barely a breeze coming through. It had been a beautiful night, disturbed only by heavy and sporadic traffic. I didn't pay a lot of attention to it at the time, but it sounded like semis were making their way into town, then back out again. Mom was in the kitchen waiting for water to boil for tea as she went through her cell phone, which was charging in a nearby outlet.

Lynn, my best friend, had stepped into the bathroom, and I was relaxed on the couch watching something. It happened right then, a sound from the distance so potent and full of force it started as a rumble in my chest before I even heard it. The vibrations were. rolled through me and before I could react, I heard a sound blasting in the distance. It was like a sub-audible rumble, followed by a muffled explosion, ending in what sounded

like the last bits of water going down a recently unclogged drain. I froze and looked back at my mom. I heard it too. She was wide-eyed. The steam was just beginning to shoot from the kettle spout. I heard the bathroom door shut, and Lynn came back, stopping at the couch. Her hand was resting on her chest. Did you hear that? Yeah, and felt it. I looked at the open sliding door. What do you think? My phone went off. My mom's phone went off. The kettle reached its piercing shriek, and she removed it from the stove. The TV went blank and began to buzz loudly. We read the message. I looked to my friend, my mom.

I saw their mouths forming the words, Grass pants, do not speak. The wind picked up, and night air spilled into the house. The smell was intermingled with ozone and decay. My mom went to the door and closed it. The lights went out. I saw dark shapes. charging past the house out of town, with strange blue-green lights emanating from their eyes.

Lynn screamed, but covered her mouth instantly. My stomach dropped three inches into my hips. Despite all of this, it was eerily silent outside. Aside from the wind pounding against the house, there were no screams, no frantic tires peeling down driveways. When Lynn grabbed my hand, I almost jumped. My mom sat next to me, and all three of us eased onto the couch in the dark. Lynn whispered into the inky black. Is this for real?

It's like some bizarre test or practical joke. I felt their hands in mine and knew that, on some level, we realized it wasn't a joke. The wind continued, but through it, I heard something else. It was the sound of a crowd talking, but it sounded like they were all speaking in whispers. I had this feeling of being far from them, but that I was drawing closer every second because the cacophony of voices became larger, but no more intelligible. I think we should do like the warning said, at least until we hear the all clear,

I said to both of them. They both agreed in small words. voices, and I could only assume they were closing their eyes like I had done. I have no idea how long we sat there. The sound of voices grew, but dissipated slightly, as if scattered by the gusts outside. I heard no human voices outside, no boots pounding on the road or the sound of engines. Then a few things happened, almost at once. I felt a few puffs of cold air come from the left, then the right, moving across my face and tossing my hair. Whispers were carried on them, but I only caught snippets.

Where is she? That nasty fucker. That nasty fucker. He's next. He's next. Some crying and sniffling. It sounded like it was coming from a child. Time, time, more time, more time.

My mom's hand clenched in mine. It was dry. but the way in which she held it felt different. The fingers moved one by one in succession, the thumb rubbing the top of my hand. It felt so familiar, and though I can admit now that I realized right then why I remembered that touch, I couldn't. I heard the sharp intake of breath, followed by a slow, rattling exhale. It made my blood run with ice.

It sounded... Final. Mom's voice came out dry, papery and tired. I've missed you, but you've got to get out of here, but they're frenzied and craving life again. It's a thirst you can't imagine. This was said urgently, sadly. Please, sweetie, get in the car and go. My mind was racing and Lynn's hand was beyond sweaty.

She had heard it too. I knew the voice and I knew I trusted it. But the warning? As I was trying to think of where my car keys were, Lynn's hand clenched in mine, painfully hard. She convulsed on the couch and cried out. I couldn't help myself and I looked over at her. When I opened my eyes,

I found her face four inches from mine with her eyes closed, breathing heavily through her nose. I asked in a whisper, You nasty bitch, it should have been you. Lynn's voice was hard and cruel. She wrenched my arm towards her and my finger slipped from my mom's hand. I won't detail the grappling fight we had, partially because the events of that night were so sudden and confusing,

I hardly remember specifics. I left her writhing on the floor, yelling incoherently, and ran to the kitchen, grabbing the keys off the key rack, and I felt my way to the garage door in the darkness. The scratches she gave me hurt, but the tears had fallen from my eyes, so the already dark and confusing world I saw

was at least clear, not blurry. I had no idea what the hell was happening and knew that I was in danger merely by moving, breathing heavily and loudly, and for having my eyes open. Mom's car rolled onto the street, and I went south down six. The town was dark. The shops were all deserted, but maybe people were just sitting and holding hands, eyes closed, waiting.

I saw a few people walking slowly in the streets. A few were running, taking clunky, uncoordinated steps. They looked confused, and some looked angry. As I approached the edges of town, I saw a blockade with a small opening in the middle. of the road. Men and women and black uniforms and glowing blue-green eyes watched me as I approached. They began to converge on the gap with strange brass-looking tools in their hands. I began crying as I sped up and surged through them. A few screamed as I almost clipped them with my car. They watched me leave with their strange eyes. What good is a blockade if they left? If they let people through. Did I do something or not do something that put them at ease as I drove?

Were there others and where did they go? Why were their eyes glowing? I couldn't shake that they felt like military. But most important of all, what the hell had I experienced? The speed with which these events took place left me dizzy and it took some time for my mind to settle. So I've been sitting in this motel room now, wondering all of this, and I think I'm starting to put it together. The first piece that came to me was the acceptance that the voice I heard and the touch I felt were my father's. I didn't want to believe that, because he's been dead for six years now. A sudden stroke took him as he worked in the garage one morning. He's the only one who called me Bob. I'm going to stop here because it's as far as I've gotten.

I want to return, but I don't know what I'll find, or even if I'll be allowed back. There's been nothing broadcasted on the news. I appreciate your comments or thoughts. Update. I've been contacted by an EDD official named Eldridge. He wants to speak with me about the events of that night. I meet with him tomorrow. Hopefully I'll get some answers to all this.

Stay posted. I appreciate all of your responses. I was told by Eldridge that my mom didn't make it through the event. He said, The town is lost. He didn't elaborate. I want to believe she's alive. That Lynn's alive too.

But after what he told me, I don't know what to think. But if I'm being honest with you, I think I know the truth of it. I'm reeling from this news in the worst way. But this forum and writing everything down seems to calm my mind enough for me to have some feelings of normalcy, so here I am. I appreciate all your thoughts and kind words. One user asked why I just left my mom there, taking the only car we had. I would like to say I knew right then that she was gone, but that would be a lie.

I was scared, scared of the rattling breath she took, the words my father spoke, the sudden change in Lynn. It was all too much. So I ran. I'm not proud of that. But there it is. Entry. August 18th.

Thursday. 2016. M. Callis. I did as some suggested and met Eldridge in a public place. He was almost aggressively ordinary. appearance, somewhere between 35 and 45. His eyes and his demeanor conveyed a kind but sterile personality. Below is what he told me. He gave me clearance to write this down and pass it on. He said he wants to get this out into the open, even if it is in the smallest of ways, on one random

subreddit out of a thousand. A higher-ups aren't reacting how they should be to this, so maybe this will subvert their orders to remain tight-lipped. His words. We met at a local coffee shop. Amidst the normal sounds and the conversation, we took a seat in the back. I stirred my black coffee as he talked. The EDD referred to in the emergency message

is called the Extraliminal Defense Department. It was started in the late 1930s, when rumors of Nazi experiments into the paranormal began circulating. Although it was said to have stopped in the early 40s after the Philadelphia experiment, Google it, I had to. Operations continued. He was brief with me on details, and he glazed over a lot, but the turning point for the EDD was when a breakthrough was made in relation to the afterlife, or, more accurately, a liminal phase, as they call it. Don't ask because I don't know how, and he didn't say, But they determine that to some extent humans can exist beyond death.

It's not life after death. He was adamant about that. They found that there is a plane of existence or a way of being after death. It has something to do with emotions. Eldridge explained it like this. Individuals create patterns in their brains throughout life relating to events, situations, or circumstances, and these are linked, inextricably, to emotions. These create which you can think of as ruts in the road, or a well-worn path related to a thought

pattern. People carve these ruts deep as time passes. In many cases, the patterns are negative in nature, though in some cases they're positive. In general, though, it's negative thinking patterns. Individuals that pass on with deep ruts associated with one emotion, or a few, often feel these emotions more strongly than others. These emotions are somehow the catalyst for perpetuation beyond the physical existence. There's a desire to keep those ruts deep and fresh. I thought of old ghost stories, where people die angry or in deep sorrow, and their spirits linger forever. I told him this, and he said it's very much along those lines, although much more complex and less Stephen King. It's an inability to let go in some ways. We can't explain

it too in depth, but the science that's been worked out is beyond me and definitely beyond you. He explained, with no condescension in his voice. Cut to 1995. Facilities have been built across the United States, five of them. Colorado, South Texas, West Virginia, Maine, and Arizona. These facilities contain the culmination of the R&D done for the EDD, both privately and government-funded. Each facility has its own liminal gateway equipment designed to generate a space to bring these manifestations, read, ghost, into being. They're called shadows to the shadows to the those in the know, apparently. The catch is that enormous amounts of energy need to be fed into the shadows to make them corporeal. This tends to result in a gross amplification of the

shadow's personality and their emotional state. All five facilities operate simultaneously, or not at all? Despite their geographic distance, they share some sort of laylines that power the devices with enough energy to complete the shadow infusion process, read bringing a ghost into physical existence. All are set to operate by specific key players in the EDD. The problem is that if less than five are used at once, more power is fed into the active devices by default of the laylines, which can have potentially devastating consequences. Colorado's site was the only one running the night of August 16th. The fucked up thing?

Pardon me. No, you're right. It's all fucked. He smiled. Yes, well, the problem we didn't foresee was the ability of a shadow to escape the liminal containment field. I was lost with this comment, but he muttered something about the infusion plates operating at unregulated rates and a crack in the containment lid. In 2013, he explained, a manifestation escaped and entered into a research scientist's body. The woman in question immediately became violent, her behavior erratic.

She injured a few others on the floor before being subdued, and the machine's sequence shut down across the country. Her original personality never returned, and for the past three years she's been held in a secure EDD facility. The behavior ebbs and flows, but she won't answer to her name anymore, and has accurately provided details into a life she should know nothing about. This has since been dubbed supplantation or supplanting. It's as scary as it sounds, not necessarily a body snatcher, but a body switcher, with the caveat that the person whose body it is has nowhere to go after being supplanted, so they push you out of your body and take over.

EDD scientists don't know where you go or what happens to you after being supplanted. So far, there have been 11 supplantation incidents across EDD facilities. And these people are not themselves anymore? I thought of the word spoken to me that night. You've got to get out of here, Bob. That wasn't my mother.

Not anymore, at least. Did that mean? Eldridge tore at the cardboard of his now empty coffee cup. No, not anymore. The ones who are still alive, that is to say, are not who they used to be. Three out of those eleven killed themselves. Why? It was all I could ask.

We suspect that the intruding manifestation couldn't cope with its new body, It's a new state of existence, but we don't really know for sure. He glanced at his watch, then out the window into the sunlight. I have to leave soon. I wanted to meet for two reasons. The first I already covered. I wanted the history of this, at least some semblance of it out there. What the government and the EDD are struggling with needs at least some light shut on it.

We're playing with dangerous, volatile, and up. Best, poorly understood forces. Forgive the hypocrisy of my current official station, but that doesn't sit well with me morally. The second and more official reason I'm here is because I need to know your experience. We found your mother in your house and the remains of what appeared to be a fight. I sat back in my chair and took a deep breath. The events of that night had played over in my head a million times. And I knew he'd read my post. on it, otherwise we wouldn't be meeting. Still, I explained it to him. He listened silently, taking notes. He looked up when I explained about my father. What was your father's last name?

Charleston, but everyone called him Charlie. Never Charles. He hated that. I thought again of the touch of my mother's hand as my father spoke through her. Eldridge was silent for a moment. He clicked his pen and shut the notebook. Thank you, Miss Callis. I have to head back to town. Glenwood? Does that mean...

No. No, it doesn't. I asked quickly. Were there others? Others who got out? He turned to leave his back to me. He shook his head, no. Wait!

I got up and followed him. It feels like you told me a lot, but barely anything of worth. That information is worth more than my life in some ways. Believe me. Yes, well, tears willed in my eyes. My mother's gone, according to you. And that's probably true if I can trust what I feel in my heart. But my father seemed to speak to me, which seems impossible since he died six years ago.

And my home is apparently off limit. yet no one outside of Glenwood seems to have any idea what happened. My voice had risen, and the couple close to us looked over uncomfortably. Eldridge glanced around hastily and led me outside. The night of August 16th, at approximately 1900 hours, the device outside of your town was engaged. The other four were dormant. We're determining how this happened, but it's somewhat hard, given that the facility is largely destroyed. The conductors aren't meant to handle that much energy.

With no containment field... Containment field? I must be crazy showing you this... He grabbed a napkin and drew this. This is more or less a piece of what the device looks like. Those five structures... He pointed to them. ...are melted beyond recognition.

We don't know how it was turned on, but this now puts the other four at risk. So, this device is activated. It goes, nuclear, essentially, opens a door for the manifestation... Manifestations, plural. Manifestations, to come through, and then... And then the door was shut. The EDD currently has operatives containing what they can, but we are looking at what I think can be ironically called a ghost town now.

I say again, the town is lost. His keys jingled and he shifted. I have to go. He handed me a business card. If you remember anything else, contact me. Do not attempt to go back. Do you understand me?

I nunly took the card and nodded. He patted my arm awkwardly and left. And now I'm back in my small room. This is what I remember from the conversation. do with it what you will. I want to mourn my mother, but there's a bizarre sense of hope with the knowledge that my father is somehow still around. It's masking those sorrowful feelings, for now at least.

I'm going to go back. I can walk and camp my way there. I have to begin tonight. The last four days have culminated in nothing but empty takeout containers and confusion. There has to be something I can do. Some way I can see my parents again. I will keep you all updated as best I can in the next few days. Thank you for your support and thoughts.

Entry. August 20th. Saturday, 2016. M. Callis. The grief was nearer than I thought. I posted the last update and everything swept over. me. It's hard to convey, but the sheer terror of knowing that this has happened paired with the apparent death of my mother overwhelmed me. The thought of going back to Glenwood was exciting, but that feeling

disappeared quickly. I wanted to get out of Redstone. I needed to fill the space in my head with something other than worry and grief. I roughly, very roughly, put it. push this down and covered it until it was a dull throb in the background of my mind. By Friday, I was in motion. I thankfully had my mom's credit cards as she had left her purse in the car, so I bought a single tent, backpack, change of clothes, a battery source for my laptop, and some other supplies. I finished prepping around 3 p.m. At 3.10, the power went out in Redstone.

I checked outside my motel room door and saw quizzical faces appearing in the windows. Small clusters of people gathered outside. There was a sense of general confusion and annoyance. Returning to my room, I took a shower quickly to savor what I could of the hot water, and eventually left town on foot around 4 p.m. The power outage was bizarre and ominous, and I half expected to have my phone go off with that terrible emergency message, but nothing happened. The answer would be in Glenwood.

It took me about ten and a half hours to get there with some small breaks in between. Along the way, I saw roadblocks with heavy traffic being directed through detours. The EDD must have set up some sort of quarantine in order to keep others out and Glenwood residents in. I kept my distance and continued along. Foot traffic through the wilderness didn't seem to be a top concern for them. I admit that when I finally got there, what I found in the late hours of the night chilled me. As I approached, I felt a hum in my chest, similar to the one I felt on August 16th. It wasn't followed by any explosion, but it grew as I got closer to town.

Once I was close enough, I saw why. Spaced in intervals of about 120 feet apart were semi-sized truck flatbeds. On each one rested a tower, four-sided and slightly triangular in shape, 40 feet high, topped with a globe that was ringed with a flat band around its circumference. Dozens of these flatbeds ringed the town. They went as far as I could see, shrinking in the distance until I could cover them with my thumb. Countless cords, as thick as my thigh, ran from each. Suddenly the power outage made sense.

This much energy had to come from somewhere. Did the EDD release some false statement blaming a mechanical failure at the power plant? The humming was emanating from them, and a fine haze, not unlike heat rising from a hot road, hung in the space between each tower. I couldn't help but gasp, It's a goddamn containment field. The implications of this were frightening. In the distance, I could hear yelling, laughter, crying.

It all sounded off. The laughter slightly too hysterical, the yelling persistently furious and full of red anger, the crying of a mourner at the edge of a freshest, dug grave. It was overwhelming. I suddenly didn't want to try to get in. The events of the past few days were so fresh, the pain so new. I wasn't sure I had the strength. So I sat down and unpacked to busy my hands. With my tent set up, I went inside and zipped the flap shut. The humming in my chest remained. I set an alarm on my watch and dozed for a while. I slept fitfully,

and when the alarm went off at 3 a.m., I was happy to be awake. Eating a granola bar, I contemplated turning around, but what was there to go back to? Grabbing my backpack, I zip my tent shut behind me and took off. I could see personnel carrying those strange devices in the distance, blue-green eyes alight. As I walked, I thought over what Eldridge told me. My eyes had been closed when both my mom and Lynn were supplanted. The shadows felt like gusts of cold air, and I could still hear them. But could I have seen them?

Maybe the strange eyes were some sort of defense against implantation. Ocular implants, though? Were these people keeping watch? even human? These questions whirled like a dry wind in my mind, and before I knew it, I was within town limits. It was dark, so I wasn't terribly worried about being seen, but I crouched anyway. I made my way up to the west side of the Roaring Fork River, and I would have to cross before it connected to the Colorado. The centuries, I guess I can call them that now, were weaving in and out of the tower-generated haze, untouched as they patrolled. I reasoned that I should be all right, too.

There wasn't much activity, but the horrible noises continued, growing louder as I approached. I would have to go through some residential and shopping areas to get to the heart of the town, and the thought scared me. I didn't have a weapon, and I didn't even know what kind I would need. Obviously, you're reading this, so I'm currently safe for the most part. but at the time my mind was moving from one awful scenario to the next. I never mentioned details of my fight with Lynn, and I don't intend to, with the exception that she fought with the strength I didn't know she had. I was terrified to encounter that,

not only for the potential of an altercation, but it would also alert people to my presence. Moving softly, I crept around the edge of a flatbed. I looked up, and the enormous, Normandy of the device struck me. It was tall and alien. I skirted around the right side of it and saw the retreating back of a guard moving away to my left. I took off running and stopped under the awning of a small hardware shop. Passing through the haze and hum, I realized that I felt nothing, no resistance or pushback. Even stranger was the fact that once I passed through,

the humming in my chest stopped. I kept close to the wall and rounded the corner. I was going to have to cross the Colorado and head way west to get to my house. It would take a while, but the shadows would help. The sounds continued in the background, but as I moved through the streets, I heard something else. A low, muffled moaning slid down the empty streets. I heard it coming from two different ends of the road I was on. I tried to ignore it, but I heard it again as I advanced.

And on the corner of 7th and Grand, I saw it. A cube made of what looked like plexiglass 10 feet by 10 feet. Eminating from what appeared to be the plexiglass itself was a light blue hue, and inside were about 15 people crammed together. Their clothes were dirty, and their skin had a yellowish blue hue to it. Their eyes were sunken and afraid. Some looked angry but worn out. Others' eyes were just closed, heads leaning against the glass, almost dead.

The moaning was coming from those inside. I recognized a face. Marshall Levy, an old high school classmate. We had gone on a date once, but a dramatic episode involving spilled soda on my pants and a serious lack of chemistry ensured it was our only date. He looked terrible, but his face seemed different. There was something in the way his lip was pulled up into a leer. There was dried spit and mucus around his mouth, caked and cracked. His eyes found mine, but there was no recognition.

there. I realized I was just a few feet from the glass now. Looking down at the road behind me, a loud thud made me jump. Marshall had pushed others aside and slammed himself against the wall. He was yelling inarticulately, scratching at the glass. My heart instantly began pounding, and I stood frozen, watching him in his frenzy. Voices, human voices, echoed in the distance and I heard footsteps. Sparing a glance at Marshall, I ran across the street to the footbridge and sprinted away hard. By the time I reached the end, I had slowed to an out-of-breath walk. I had to follow six until I hit the outer edge of town to find my house, but I needed a break. From my position slightly above the main road, I could now see the dull glow of blue spotted sporadically

along the east, west, and south of town. There were dozens of them. The people in those cubes, they were residents. All of them were residents. All of them looked gaunt and exhausted. Were they all supplanted? I couldn't even fathom a situation where literally no one had escaped.

But then I remembered Elridge and the small but firm shake of his head, when I asked if others had gotten away. No. If that was the case, then it would mean that the EDD was rounding up these people, many of whom had probably been supplanted, but others who may just be terrified and in hiding. It was sick, but Eldridge hadn't given any indication that a method was known to unsuppant, is that even a word? Someone, assuming the intruding manifestation could be pushed out. Would the body die? Were all of these people simply lost causes? It was cruel and cold. Then a sudden thought struck me. My mom. Was her body dying in a cube somewhere? My father trapped

inside. I connected with the main road and followed it to the street that crawled along the foothills of the mountains. Along the way, I saw more personnel in black. but also other individuals in gray and red uniforms, carrying firearms, eyes glowing. At the time, I didn't know what to make of that, so I ignored them. I followed the road slowly, and it took me until 4.30 to get to my house. Cube studded the road as I went. The faces I saw were dead-looking in appearance, but filled with raw emotion. some showed nothing at all.

I wondered if some of the bodies simply died after being supplanted, or if suicides were simply thrown in with the rest while the situation was taken under control. My house was as I left it, except the front door was wide open. The garage stood open and empty, the blackness within uninviting. I heard scuffling feet in the distance and inch. closer to the house. Despite the effort of getting here, I was afraid to approach my home now. It was that feeling of visiting a place where memories seemed to be held for you for safekeeping, the smells and look of things once familiar pulling you back with irresistible force.

Sometimes those are good experiences, reliving those memories. But in that moment, I was afraid of what it would do to me. The scuffling got louder, and I looked over my shoulder down the street. There seemed to be movements in the shadow, but I wasn't sure. My eyes were swimming with tears. I steeled myself and marched through the front door and directly into the living room. It was dark and cool. The undeniable fragrance of home invaded my nostrils, and I felt myself relax.

It was still creepy, but it was familiar. Lynn was gone. She must have run through the front door and left it open. I looked at the mug of tea I had been nursing that night, spilled on its side on the floor. Going through the kitchen, the kettle sat cold and silent on a burner on the stove, my mom's charging cord dangling against a cabinet. Standing there, with my hand resting on the counter,

I heard a gravelly intake of breath somewhere in the house. I froze and felt icy fear rippled down my arms and into my stomach. I quietly crept to a drawer in the kitchen and took out the large maglight my dad bought years ago. Testing that it still worked, I snapped it off again and moved into the back of the house. The carpet muffled my footsteps as I walked. listening to the small noises coming from my mom's bedroom. All thoughts of collecting small things I'd made a note to retrieve from my room and the rest of the house were lost. I rounded the corner of my parents' bedroom and looked in.

On the bed was a figure back facing me. I saw the chest expand and shrink, the small wheezing cut through the air. My hands were sweaty and shaking. I lifted the flashlight and turned it on. The circle of light was dazzling in the darkness, reflecting off the second porch door that was connected to the room. The figure, in navy caprice and a red and white striped top, froze. Mom?

It was what she had been wearing that night. I inched closer. the figure remained frozen. Mom? I asked again, my voice cracking. In the light, she slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder at me. I gasped and almost dropped the light as I saw her hollowed out face and watery red-rimmed eyes. A dry breath and then... Oh, no.

It was the same voice I had. had heard that night. This realization helped me move more confidently over to the figure. Stepping to the other side of the bed, I saw clutched in her hands an old family photo of the three of us that my mom had framed. Daddy? My eyes were dry, but emotion was in my voice. Oh, no. A hand reached weakly out to mine. It was my mom's voice. It was my mom's voice. but my dad was evident inside of it. I knew it was him. Have you been here this whole time?

I wanted to sit on the bed next to him, but I couldn't. Not just yet. This is no way to be, Bob. Your mother, we're both gone now. Oh, I'm here. I'm so confused. So scared. His hand gripped the first.

photograph more tightly. He smiled a dry smile and I sat on the bed next to him. But it sure is good to see you again, kiddo. The suddenness of my father's passing six years ago was completely upending. For months, my mom and I struggled to get through our daily lives. We managed well enough financially, but the small life we were building lost one of its three primary pillars of support. I've since made peace with it, but still had dreams about him coming to see me, asking about my life. In those dreams, he was always proud of me, and I'd wake up missing him so much I almost couldn't catch my breath. I'd wish to see him again, to really talk to him.

But looking at this pitiful figure, the true shadow of the man I knew, feeling the hard loss of my mother, I couldn't help but take that wish back. I just... Is it really you? Yes. I don't know how this happened. Everything is so sharp and hard-edged now. The sounds are so loud and the lights are so bright.

He repeated quietly to himself. Something happened and then I felt some magnetic pull. He took a deep, rattling breath. And I was here in this house. Your mother. And I found this picture after you'd gone. His fingers touched the glass of the frame.

Look how little you were. Suddenly, a shout cut through the air. The harsh sounds of footsteps broke through the house and I heard enraged screaming. The first one through the bedroom door had cuts all over. with bloodied fingertips and cracked lips. He had a manic grin on his face. One other man and two women charged into the room and stopped. Their breathing was heavy and somehow empty.

They saw my mother lying on the bed, and they saw me sitting there. There was a moment's hesitation as something computed behind their eyes, and then the sliding glass door behind me exploded. Gunfire lit up the room and a bullet caught the first man in the left cheek. His head pulsed open and he fell. A man and a woman with glowing eyes advanced through the shattered door. Those devices held in front of them. They hummed violently, and I saw an adult height-hage shield projected from the front of it.

The weapon almost looked like a mini containment tower, with a smaller golf-ball-sized sphere on the end. My hair stood on end as they passed me. The remaining three supplanted, I could only assume that's what they were now, tried to run, but they were met by three other personnel in black forcing them toward the first two. Devices held aloft. The man with a gun seemed even more hostile, with fiery blue-green eyes. He stomped in behind them and grabbed my father's arm and shoved him towards the three-cornered

supplanted on the other side of the bed. The picture fell from his fingers and hit the edge of a nightstand, cracking it. I watched my dad get up slowly from the floor. Jesus Christ, Miss Callis? Eldridge came in from the hallway, eyes glowing. That's my fucking father, you piece of shit! I moved towards the gunslinger. Eldridge caught me by the arm.

Eldridge's eye swept over the room. He looked at each of their captives in turn, examining them. A third team is outside, waiting to help move them back to A-block. This is the last of the residents. Move. They started forward and, carefully keeping the four individuals inside the field of their devices' resistance, walk them outside. I stepped up quickly to stop them. Eldridge pulled me back and zip-tied my hands in front of me. You goddamn bastard!

All these people! are no longer a threat. They are not who they once were. Let's go. I started to speak, but he shot me a look, a knowing look, and I fell silent. We were taken by truck back to the center of town. We passed the group that included my dad as we went. I saw them being ushered into an already full block. My dad looked tired and frail as he was pushed in. I looked at my shoes and looked. took deep breaths, trying to contain my raging and conflicting emotions. As we approached, I saw what looked like a fleet of big rigs lined up diagonally on the main road.

Their back doors open. I saw blocks being loaded into their dark, cavernous bellies, three to a trailer. The people inside displayed a mix of reactions. I felt sick to my stomach. The writing on the big rig said Axiom X. The name sounded familiar, some kind of company, but it escaped me. We were led to a grouping of trailers stationed in the mall parking lot. I was ushered inside one of them by Eldridge and a firearm-carrying guard.

The guard waited outside, and Eldridge shut the door behind the two of us. He produced a pocket knife and cut the zip tie roughly from my wrist. wrists. I saw, sitting on the seats of the trailer's kitchen table, my backpack, and the remains of my tent. My laptop sat closed on the table. Eldred looked at me. He looked tired, and the bags under his eyes were pronounced. You will be taken into custody and moved to a secure facility. You will be given limited access to your cell phone and other devices to maintain the illusion of regularity in your daily life to your friends and relatives. Your computer has yet to be confiscated and replaced with an Axiomx approved device.

I suggest you use this time wisely. That knowing look again. Why are you doing this? I didn't know what this was in particular. The rounding up of citizens, the leniency towards me. He was about to speak, but a squawked voice came through his radio. Block loading at 75%. Eldridge, we need you down on 8th and grand.

He looked at me. Right. And he left. I'm sitting here exhausted, and we're supposedly leaving soon. These are my experiences so far. I don't know when I'll be able to write again. If I'll have access. I don't even know if they want me alive.

This all feels so complex and steeped in years of hidden history. It feels insurmountable. But if you're here, my voice and I will keep it strong and loud for as long as I can. I can't be the only one to bear witness. I hope to update you all soon. Alice, thank you for your concerns and replies. The fact that I'm not in this alone and have your support means the world. I can't answer all your questions, but I will say this.

Some of you were right. You suspected and anticipated some of what has happened. Unfortunately, not to the extent that any of us could have dreamed. I'm not sure what to make of the past couple of days. Our journey took a day. I wasn't allowed outside throughout the trip, so I never really got my bearings. When we reached our destination, though, I finally understood where we were.

The desert, dry heat and oppressive air. It had to be Arizona, the closest sight to the one in Colorado. As I was lit outside with Eldridge by guards in gray and red, I saw the large semis being unloaded across the tarmac in the distance. The facility the blocks were being moved into was enormous, but bland. It looked like those buildings you see every other semi-duct were the, they drop off and receive cargo. I saw noticeably less movement in the blocks as they were transported inside.

The compound the facility was on was enormous. The walk to where they held me was somewhat long, so I tried to take in as much as I could. To the west were two large buildings that appeared to be built for holding cargo. This included the one where the blocks were being stored. To the east was an industrial park. locking lots, three-story buildings, medians with cacti and red stone. It looked remarkably ordinary. Cars littered the lots. I saw the logo for Axiom X on the walls of these buildings. To the north was desert, bleak and empty. The south was the same, except for the black vein of

road cutting through it. The whole compound was fenced in. The poles of the fence were thicker than your average fence pole, and they were topped with brass globes. I was taken to a large, flat, one-story building. Air conditioners chunked quietly in a line above one wall. Once inside, I realized these were living quarters. The guard stopped inside the doors, and I saw sweat beating their foreheads. I had to go through a security checkpoint where my phone and computer were taken. These posts are the only records now. I ask that you save them somewhere, so this isn't forgotten. Eldridge beckoned me to follow him down a series of hallways and showed me to room 250. It wasn't anything impressive. A single bed, a desk, a sparse bathroom, and a dresser.

No TV, but there was a stiff and scratchy armchair in the corner if I had the urge to sit back and read for a while. Could you explain to me what's going on? I dropped my bags and sat on the bed. I felt sticky with a sheen of sweat covering my skin. I hadn't changed my clothes since Friday. Eldrish made sure the door was closed and turned to me. You technically broke into a government quarantine

and interacted closely with individuals inside that quarantine. This... He gestured to the room. ...is more than others would have gotten. I tried to contain my scoff. Is this because I made it out that night untouched? Is that what this is? Because if it is, you know why.

My dad warned me in time somehow. There is nothing special about me, other than I was lucky enough to get to a car in time. I realized that, but there are others that see potential in you. Back in the early 90s, there was a lack of congressional funding to the EDD, which resulted in a substantial amount of contractual work with Axiom. The technological advances Axiom made were leaps and bounds beyond what the government scientists were producing. The committees involved in the EDD were happy to hear this. Over time, more control was given to the company, and by 1999, all five facilities were running with Axiom created equipment

and staffed largely by Axiom scientists and staff. Congress and the governmental side of the EDD still had a hand in things, but Axiom-backed congressmen and women have slowly begun to become more prominent on those committees. The operation of the EDD has slowly come more into the control of Axiom. The government is still extremely tight-lipped about everything, but I haven't heard of anyone's hackles rising because of this shift. in the power dynamic. He paused for a minute.

Maybe it was decided by the powers that be that this is just too much of a liability for the government to handle, or that it's not worth the time or money any longer. What I'm trying to tell you is that you're of great interest to Axiom right now. Regardless of what I report to them or the government, what happens next is largely out of my hands. I felt hot, waxy fear dripped down my back. I couldn't stop it from happening. A wash of self-pity came over me. I wondered how the hell this had all happened. I lost so much in such a short amount of time. It would be hard to describe, but I imagine it's similar to what people might feel when a natural disaster strikes. You lose your home, sometimes your family, you lose your family, you're

your pets, your assets, everything. You're left with what you had on your back. Life experiences and intelligence may count for something, but the sheer emptiness of the loss of your physical life is beyond my ability to describe. Sitting in that dingy, motel-like room drove it all home clearly to me. I had no home,

and I felt as if I wasn't even regarded as a person any longer, but more upon in the overall scheme of things, as if I had some special ability, some special immunity that they could tease out of me. I know the trope of the sinister corporation is tired, although not unwarranted in many cases, but what Aldrich described to me about the shift in control over the EDD really upset me.

So I'm to sit here and what? Wait on them? Until they're ready with whatever they have to test me? or something. Look, I didn't choose any of this. I was lucky enough that my father somehow came to me. And now here I am days later waiting on the whims of people who know nothing about me except the truths I've told you. Yet they still don't want to believe what I said. God, I can't stay here. You can't leave. He stood up straight. You can't leave the compound. They won't let you, Even if you did leave, the fence I saw you eyeing means protection.

Being outside of it is dangerous. His phone buzzed. I have to go. You'll be a shooter laptop soon. I think you'll find a notebook and pen in your bag, though. Don't stop recording and don't stop writing. He pulled a small bag from his back pocket. It was black nylon and pill-shaped, roughly the size of his palm.

Eldridge placed it on the bureau. Your access card is in the outside pouch. Two of the scientists, Parson, and Chamberry, have asked that you report to Facility 1 at 9.30 tomorrow morning. I advise you make it a priority to get there. He unzipped the pouch and produced a contact lens case. Before you go, put these on your eyes. Axiom develop them.

They allow you to see the manifestations. They react with the heat in your eyes and bend the light to such an extent that you can see where manifestations are at any given time. Don't keep them in too long, though. Two hours max is pushing you. For what it's worth, I'm sorry you're here. I never expected this turn of events. Though, maybe I did on some level. I could have kept you out of Glenwood when we saw you approaching.

This story's just too important. Then why not do it yourself? You're using me to get this bullshit out into the open. I have trouble swallowing your supposed altruism when I'm the one living this and telling others about it. Eldridge's face grew red at that. I have to live with myself in my past. Bigger things are in motion, and at this point, my credibility is compromised by association with all of this. Your voice is pure and untouched, so yes, I am using it.

I'm not going to ask you to overlook that. Be disgusted with me. I'd welcome it. I'd be shocked if you weren't. Once you get in there... He pointed over in the direction of the facility buildings. You'll see the extent of things. He turned and left abruptly.

I didn't look at the contacts or the access card. I laid on the bed and looked to. the ceiling. My body and my mind were tired. I wanted to shower, but felt too exhausted to move. After a few minutes, I fell asleep. In my dream, I was laying in the bed just as I was when I drifted off to sleep. The lights were off, and the silence was so complete, my ears felt like they were ringing. There was weight on the bed other than my own. To the right, facing the wall, was a dark figure with its back towards me. It was still, but in the same position my dad was when I found him in the bedroom in Glenwood.

I didn't move, and I barely breathed. The figure started to slowly roll towards the tight space in between the bed and the wall. I knew a full rotation would reveal its face, and although I wanted to shut my eyes, I couldn't. And then it fell suddenly into that tight space. I didn't see its face. My dream self had no reaction, but then I saw two long-fingered hands, smoky and black, grip the edge of the bed and begin to pull it towards the ground. My side of the bed tilted up as the hands pulled down. A head began to rise above the edge of the comforter.

It was shorter than a human head and charcoal gray. It had only a mouth that was open impossibly wide. My body began to give into gravity and slide down the bed. Suddenly the bed was the size of a parking lot and I was the size of an ant. The open mouth was huge. An empty, gaping maw. I fell towards that mouth, and as my body rolled over the hot, steaming gums, I jerked violently. I woke up suddenly and in a panic.

Crawling off the bed frantically, I backed up against the window. It was dark out, except for the lights, illuminating the outside parking lots. I breathed heavily as I stared at the space between the bed and the wall. Eventually, I got the nerve to check that space, and there was nothing there. I left the lights on the whole night while I wrote. I'm going to stop here for now. I will post more soon. Entries continued.

August 21st, Sunday, 2016, to August 24th, Wednesday, 2016. Entry I slept only a few hours. after that dream, and was woken up by a knock at the door around 8.30 a.m. on Tuesday. When I opened it, I found a laptop bag with a computer inside of it sitting there. I didn't use it until I ended up in Albuquerque, where I am now. I got ready for my meeting or appointment or whatever you want to call it, and felt a bit better having showered and washed my hair.

The contacts sat waiting for me. I'm lucky enough to have almost 2020 vision, so I didn't have to swap any prescription lenses for these. They were thick and awkward when I put them in, and I had to blink away tears as I adjusted to the new sensation. When I opened my eyes, things looked how they normally did, just a bit sharper. Have you ever worn polarized lenses? There's something about them that sort of mutes the brightness of the world while sharpening the edges and colors of what you see. These lenses did that. I wasn't surprised to see then that the Arizona sun didn't bother my eyes as much as it normally would have when I left the residential building.

I glanced around the compound as I walked and found myself looking into the expanse of the desert. I thought I saw gray-white blurs in the distance, but they were too far to make out. The haze of heat rising from the desert earth obstructed any chance I had of seeing into the distance. with clarity. I quickly forgot about what I thought I saw once I got to Facility 1. I provided my access card to the front security desk. It was scanned, and a security escort came to me, eyes literally glowing. We made small talk.

She was friendly, but I had a sense that she was working off of a loose grit. We whispered through hallways where I saw a laboratory space, offices, social, areas and storage rooms. The air was chilled, and I felt goosebumps on my arms. The route through the building was winding, and it felt as though she was told to take the long way round to get to Parsons and Chambray. We entered a side set of stairs and climbed past the second floor and exited on the third. Pushing through a door at the end of the hallway, we walked out onto a dangling metal bridge. The catwalk crossed over what was probably one of the largest and most vast sections of

the building. Hanging from the ceiling were large, flat bronze discs and stretched along the walls where more containment pillars. I took this all in in a matter of seconds, but before I even looked down, the sound was what hit me first. There were hundreds of people down on the floor. Almost all were yelling, some weakly, some loudly, some were crying or arguing through sobs. These interactions were sometimes occurring with a partner, sometimes alone.

It was a symphony of the dead. Bunks were scattered around in what I could tell were once orderly rows, and I could see temporary toilets against the walls and intervals behind privacy curtains. Everything was in disarray. Everyone looked emaciated and sick, their clothes dirty and tattered. Many were simply sprawled out. On the floor or the beds, it didn't seem to matter. But with my new eyes, I saw more.

I saw grey-white figures, opaque and hazy, as if seen through the snow on a washed-out TV screen. Some were tall, others were squirt. and fat, and some figures had the proportions of a normal adult human, only with slightly larger mouths or two long legs. I could see that these figures were lingering around the body to which they were attached. It was as if these people had died, and yet their ghosts were still tethered to their physical bodies. Only I knew that wasn't what had happened. The shadows were making grotesque faces, contorted in grimaces of pain or sorrow, anger, and hate, of fear.

I saw their mouths moving, talking quickly, but heard no sound come from their transparent throats. Some had their mouths open and what looked like a terrified scream. The figures were all distorted in some macawed manner, and all of them looked to be in some type of pain. Somewhere in the rational part of my brain, I wondered if they had always looked like this, or if they had been twisted over time. The people to whom they were attached appeared to mimic the shadows, somehow translating and vocalizing those emotions in one form or another. Worse still, were those who had no shadow hovering over their bodies.

They were just people. Glenwood residents swept up with the rest of the supplanted. Solitary children, a few men, and some women, all by themselves and isolated from one another. My escort didn't notice I had stopped some ten feet back when she turned. I these... I couldn't get the words out. My eyes searched frantically among the bodies for my father. She didn't answer, and instead asked me to follow her. When we got her, we got her, we got her. to Dr. Parsons' sparse office space, I realized I had no recollection of the rest of our short journey beyond that catwalk. My mind was racing. Dr. Parsons and Dr. Chambray both looked like normal people.

They could have been the parents of friends of mine. They wore lanyards around their necks with access cards attached, and contacts in their eyes. I sat down. They introduced themselves, Dr. Jerry Parsons and Dr. Janice Chambrey, and offered me something to drink. I declined. Then they began to run through a history of the EDD. You know most of it, I do too. Not worth repeating. Dr. Chambry shifted subjects.

You must be wondering about what you saw the other night, and probably about what you saw before coming here to this office. My hands were shaking with anger and fright. Axiom has begun experimentation and testing on the supplementation process, more accurately on how to deliberately supplant someone and how to then, forgive the term, exercise that manifestation, returning the individual to their original state. They explained further that tests over the past two years were unsuccessful. Those individuals were lost causes, my phrase, who knows what was done with them. The events in Glenwood were indeed unfortunate, they said, but not without their silver lining. We were lucky enough to save these individuals,

the ones you saw a little earlier. We brought them here and what we hope to achieve is to reverse the suppletation process. I finally got to speak. And you're doing this to rescue those lost during the events, to bring them back. It was hard to keep the disbelief from my voice. Well, yes, but as a part of our ongoing research endeavors, if we can reverse this process, then we're one step closer to actively supplanting someone safely with the manifestation of our choosing, then remove them with no harm done to the host.

Host? I sat back and felt the loose threads of what they were getting at trying to connect. You want to actively supplant a person, then pull. Push that shadow back out and replace it with the original person. Am I getting that right? Yes. To what end? I mean, you've seen what happens, the types of manifestations that come back.

The type of people they become. Chambray sat silently for a minute. Parsons looked at her. In your statement, you mentioned that your father came to you. She said, slowly, carefully. Further, you came into contact with him. again later the next day. I hope I'm not being insensitive. But what was that experience like for you? I opened and closed my mouth. The threads were alive with electricity, but I answered.

It was painful and sad. I've missed him. Of course I have, but it felt all wrong. It was him, but not him. They seemed to ignore that sentiment. That is the end we hope to achieve, Miss Callas. Imagine being able to speak with your loved ones from years past. What you would say, what they would say. His eyes glittered. You, Miss Callis, are the control of this experiment.

Those individuals you saw, the ones from Glenwood, provide the best chance we have at unraveling this mystery. You will act as a counterbalance of sorts throughout the process. The threads connected with a jolt. I couldn't believe the errant and utter disregard for those people. No more than I could believe how I was to be the control in their experiment. We are on the verge of a scientific breakthrough so monumental it defies full comprehension. The existential implications alone are staggering.

We are close, Miss Callas. So very close. Carson's stud. Come with us. I stayed sitting. The escort came from the hallway outside and pulled me up by my arm. Chambri and Parsons had apparently lost patience with my incredulity and half-hearted defiance to their work. I shook my arm roughly from her grip.

Despite what you may think or have been told, you are not a visitor here. We're scheduled to perform a test in 15 minutes. You will come and watch. Chambri said, looking into my face. The false niceties of the first half of our meeting, such as they were, were over. They told me my place in this, and I was supposed to respect it. That was why they were so candid with me, probably. They never expected me to leave.

What's the harm in sharing the details of their work? I had no fight in me, though. But more than that, I knew I knew I was. I had no plan of escape. I would have to wait. We walked through a series of corridors to an elevator, where we rode down to SB 2. Sub-basement 2?

The doors opened to a room with a cavernous ceiling. It was enormous and circular in shape. On the far side was a real-life version of the hastily drawn sketch Eldred had given me. The pillars stood tall, firm and imposing, and one of those bronze discs hung over them, covering the full circumference of the circle the pillars formed. On the floor were five smooth pie-slice-shaped stones, making a circle. Set into each was a smooth crystal about 20 inches across. Sitting in the center was a man in a

ruffled suit, tired and haggard. His eyes were wild, looking at the apparatus to surround him and the individuals outside of it. My contact showed me the shadow of an old woman, hunched over the man's body. She was spinning on the spot, taking in her surroundings. She looked afraid and was crying silent tears. I knew that Parsons and Chambry could see her too. We all could. Walking to a control panel set up on a platform some 40 feet away from the pillars, Chambray said. We have tests scheduled every hour and a half across all of our facilities. Of course, they're all working on separate pieces of this research,

although none are as interesting as ours. She smiled at me. I stood on the platform as the lights were dimmed and the pillars were powered up. Other control stations were set up around the room, and operators with headsets were confirming the sequence of activation to one another. I watched as the humming became stronger, and a light on each control station turned green, which presumably gave others the go-ahead to begin their part of the sequence. When all ancillary stations were green, the operators of the one I was on punched buttons

and pulled levers. The humming was impressive. Between the pillars, the heat haze that I saw in Glenwood rose up, Only this time I saw starlight dance along the haze. The smell of ozone permeated the air, and I watched as the operators worked. Dozens of pairs of glowing eyes were watching the spectacle between the pillars. The hum was audible and pressed in on my eardrops. Inside the circle, I saw the five smooth crystals begin to glow.

The man in the center cried out. The old woman began sobbing. The haze was so thick now it looked as though they were underwater. She tried to clutch at the man but her hands found no purchase. He was on all forms, breathing heavily, but I saw him trembling. He looked up with a platform, and I saw blood coming from his nostrils and his left ear. His eyes were red and the veins in his neck stood out. The old woman started to dissolve.

I could see the frantic look on her face as she began to fade. The man rose up on his knees, arms wrapped around his stomach. He looked as though he was going to be sick. Then, suddenly, the right side of his chest crushed in with a sickening squelch. The top left side of his head collapsed into his skull after that. He coughed one smattering of blood onto the stone. and fell forward. The old woman's mouth was open, and she suddenly and violently dissolved,

as if blown apart by a sudden forceful wind. The humming began to lessen and slow. For an instant, as I watched, I saw a large shadow pass over the sparkling haze of the containment field, a shadow as tall as the pillars themselves. It lingered for the span of three seconds, then was gone. I don't know if others saw it, but I assume they must have. My dream suddenly came back to me in that moment,

but like the first failed flick of a bicklider, the spark of that memory was gone in an instant. Parsons sighed disgustedly and pulled a contact case from his back pocket. He removed the contacts from his eyes and bled. linked moisture back into them. Ugh. Another one. Maybe the tension of the field was applied too quickly.

Chambri looked at him. Perhaps. She was silent and turned from him. Her eyes on the gore splattered in the circle. I was led away after that. No further explanation. Chambri and Parsons didn't appear to notice I left. I went back to my room and took out

contacts. Numbly, I rode down what I could. I'm done transcribing this for now. The events of the rest of that day were uneventful and aren't worth telling. I feel sick by what I saw, and as I think about it now, by what I would eventually see. I'll report more tomorrow if I can, but know this. I'm away from that facility. What happened there appears to be happening elsewhere. If that's the case, and I'm right, then this has gone far beyond my own experience. If you dream like I dreamed,

then you've had your warning. There is no emergency alert system for this other than that dream. Get out and don't look back. For now, I'm going to rest.