Note: The following is adapted loosely from a story by Junji Itou.
JUNE 12TH 1996 - The following was recovered from a handwritten journal by Officer V. Antonelli on the scene of an abandoned campsite. The writer has so far been identified as a Mr. Richard Hayes, whose driver's licence was recovered from his discarded clothes. The entries of his journal were later compiled and transcribed by the British Columbia RCMP.
Today there were a series of wild earthquakes throughout British Columbia. While most cities were able to endure it, a few villages were obliterated when a large fault was discovered near the epicentre, around the Cascade Volcanic arc. So far most sources have said it's several kilometres long and rather deep, like valley when walked through. I'd really love to take some pictures of it, as nothing like this has happened in Canada before, but I'm writing this in a motel right now before I start hiking tomorrow morning.
I went out at about nine o'clock, and about three hours after that, I met a young woman hiking on the same route I was. Her name is Samantha Worth, and I'd place her age between 19 and 25, rather plain-looking. Apparently she was fascinated by the news of the fault on TV and wanted to see it for herself.
We reached the fault and at the side of the mountain was a large crowd, even some news outlets. We could all see, and it baffles me to even describe it here, thousands of perfectly human shaped holes in the rock. These holes were absolutely perfect; there were even some details of fingers, hairstyles, ankles or ears on certain holes. They continued far into the rock for as far as any of us could see, and there were teams of university researchers on hand to attempt to analyze them.
I attempted to listen to one of the research teams. The human shape they were studying went straight into the mountain for about thirty metres before slowly curving off inside the mountain. Theories started flying around then...like, they were dug out from the inside by Aboriginal tribes, or that they connect to an entrance that's blocked with built-up soil, the same that was clogging these holes for hundreds of years.
Samantha became antsy as soon as our party reached the side of the fault. She claimed to have seen it on a TV broadcast this morning, but she believes there's a hole in the shape of her silhouette somewhere. I attempted to convince her otherwise but she began shouting at me, which caught the attention of several others whom are looking for holes in their shape. I was able to calm Samantha down long enough to go find a camping zone with three other searchers. I felt like the least deranged person among them.
Isaac, the leader of the search party, woke us all up at about seven in the morning to tell us that he'd found his hole in the mountain. Samantha and I hurriedly got ready and followed him, and I admit that the hole matched up perfectly next to him. But somehow he could sense my disbelief, and I remember him glaring right at me before promising he could "prove it". He stripped down to his underwear, climbed into the hole just the way his limbs would match the shape, and slipped in. However, he wouldn't stop, and by the time Samantha had returned with help, I couldn't even see his body in the hole.
Later the park security called in a rescue squad, and an officer close to Isaac's size climbed in to check, but had to get out after less than five metres in and openly refused to go near it again.
5/18/1996, 11:53 PM
I just woke up from one of the worst nightmares I've had in years. In this dream, I was Isaac, and I was completely trapped in pitch blackness, hundreds of metres into the hole. I kept trying to move, but my arms and legs were stuck in narrow ruts, the stone outline around me crushing my ears and lower arms. The earthquake must have deformed the rock so badly that I couldn't go any further. Isaac started screaming at the top of his lungs, trying to squirm further, but the rock was crushing the sides of his throat, only making his screams higher and strangled. I woke up feeling like I was going to be sick. I'm strongly considering going back to Calgary as soon as I can.
Samantha greeted me at my tent this morning. She had found her hole.
She directed me to where it was on the side of the mountain, and sadly, it was a perfect form of her silhouette, even with a slope from her head to shoulders where her long hair would be.
The more we were in front of it, the harder Samantha started shaking. From what she was able to tell me, she believes it's a hole specifically dug for her, fully intended for her to enter, but she knows she'll never come back out of it again. She asked me to hold her back from it in case.
As we were walking away, a young man in his late teens started screaming at the top of his lungs, climbed the holes, and got into one, yelling at the crowd, "This is my hole! It was made for me! Tell my mom goodbye!" He threw his glasses to the ground and slipped into it perfectly. The crowd began panicking, and as we stood there, we realized that about six other people had entered or were about to climb into their respective holes. It turned into utter bedlam trying to get them out, so I took Samantha with me down to the lake for some sight-seeing to calm her down.
It lasted about ten minutes when we got there. She wanted to go back and just watch her hole. I let her, but she just sat before it for the longest time, eyes wide. Slowly she started to rock back and forth, bawling and mumbling, her noise getting louder and louder until I ran over and attempted to make her stop. Out of desperation, I grabbed some of the rubble and fallen rocks around us and began to fit them in her hole in the mountain. It took a while, but soon I'd completely packed it shut. I brought her over and assured it wouldn't "call" to her again. There are little emergency tags taped over so many other holes that I can't believe it.
That night, Samantha asked to connect her double-ended tent to mine, as she was too scared to sleep alone. I accepted; she's beginning to feel a bit like a daughter to me.
5/20/1996, 2:04 AM
I just woke up from another awful nightmare. I dreamt I was a member of a caveman tribe, hundreds of thousands of years ago, and I was about to be punished for committing a gruesome crime. Nobody in the dream spoke, only gestured, so I don't know what I did.
They led me to a cliff, where there were countless other holes in varying sizes. I knew automatically, as if I'd been told it before in the dream, that when a person of my tribe committed a crime of my magnitude, they had a hole dug out for them that they were forced into.
I had no choice but to move forward. There was cold stone all around me, and the walls were carved in a way that kept you - or someone of your perfect size - from retreating. I kept sliding down further and further for what felt like days, and eventually, I felt a growing tug on my neck. To my horror, the further I went, the indent for my neck only got longer and narrower, gradually stretching it as I went. The indent for my limbs slowly curved and twisted in several directions at once, and over time, I felt my body warp into a series of thin, noodle-like appendages.
I woke up and checked that Samantha was still in her tent. She doesn't seem to be sleeping well, either. I'm going to attempt to return to sleep too...
5/20/1996, 8:18 AM
I panicked, and the first thing I did as soon as I got into my hiking clothes was begin searching for her. I didn't have to look far, as I found her hole in the mountain stripped of all rocks, an emergency tag taped over the silhouette of her head.
She's as good as dead, or worse. That's it.
I don't feel like doing much today; I'm going to hang around the lake and take pictures of whatever I can to take my mind off this.
5/20/1996, 7:15 PM
I found it by accident while walking back to my tent. My hole. It's mine; there's perfect indents for my waistline, my hair, the shape of my arms, everything. I tried to see what it looked like next to my body, and it was very, very close, but I was afraid standing in position by it would make me jump in.
I'm holding myself up in my tent. I don't want to go outside, not even in an effort to go hike to my car...all I can see is my hole in the distance when I'm out.
I'm shaking all over. I don't know what I'm going to do today and I hope I can sleep this feeling off.
END EXCERPT - Subject disappeared from campsite between the hours of 21:30 and 23:00 PM and is assumed missing in the same manner as previous casualties. Mr. Hayes is estimated to be casualty #144 at the Cascade Volcanic Arc.
Officer Vincent Antonelli, Royal Canadian Mountain Police, Southeast District, Kelowna, British Columbia
6/12/1996, 12:41 PM
RCMP FILE UPDATE - SEPTEMBER 22ND, 1996 - The following was submitted from a university research file conducted by the Okanagan University of British Columbia by a Dr. F. Rojet on 19/09/96.
Day: #124, Study Date: 18/09/96, Dictation: Dr. Fredrick
Data: We have been attempting to track the other sides of the Human Indents of the Cascade Volcanic Arc for the longest while, and thanks to a tip from a family of climbers, my team and I were able to find the entries on other side of the mountain. Like the other side, the shapes are carved carefully into the earth, the surface around them smooth from where the earth split in the fault. However, these shapes resemble nothing remotely human. They can be best described as long, wavy shapes of five long tendrils. Two of my students offered descriptions; Anne Chau called them squiggles, and Greg Beaton pointed out that they resemble spider veins.
There are approximately fourteen of them in view, the others presumably still closed off by unbroken earth.
My team began carefully checking as many of the formations as we could. I decided we would check the large one at the far bottom last, but we found no trace of life up to thirty metres in any of the others. Out of curiosity, my assistant Pat slipped off to see if the large one was the same, in the event that we could pack up early. Instead, our notes were interrupted by his terrified screaming.
We made our way down to the hole, where he was pointing frantically, claiming "it" was heading toward us. I took his flashlight and peered in, and I will now attempt to describe the utter travesty of nature that my team's eyes fell upon.
It could possibly have resembled a human at one point, but now appeared a narrow stream of writhing, folded flesh that rippled as it slid forward. I could see the faintest grooves and scars that the surrounding stone had inflicted. Its right leg was long and narrow, its left wide, compressed and short like a wrinkled stump. Its left arm continued far to the side, and its right so far up I could hardly see it.
Its face, worst of all, was a long, curved shape, maybe two meters long. The mouth had been plucked of all teeth as a result of pressure, wide and forced open amidst a frame of warped waves of skin. One eye was positioned before the other, bleached due to the lack of light. I vaguely remember Pat calling for the RCMP as I watched this thing draw closer, a pale wide-eyed tangle of flesh, with the faintest choked groan echoing from its gaping mouth.
END EXCERPT - SEPTEMBER 22ND, 1996 Template:Sort