I’m not entirely sure where to begin. I’ve experienced things that defy logic, and only an insane person could accept. I don’t expect anyone to believe what follows. I don’t expect any of it to make any sense at all. I feel I’ve come so far, though, that the story has to be told, no matter the consequences.
On Monday, I went back to the woods behind my family’s old home. I took some pictures and posted them to twitter so anyone reading this blog could remain updated. After thirty minutes of hiking through the overgrown forest, feeling watched, and glancing over my shoulder, I finally found that godforsaken building.
As soon as I could see the red brick through the tree line, I felt this vague sense of “wrong”. The only way I can describe it would be like an instinctive fear of being near the lair of a predator. I was able to ignore it at the start, shattering a window and climbing inside. The entirety was empty, except for a trapdoor in the back corner. With every step I took towards the door, the desire to flee increased. Instead, I opened it, turned on my flashlight, and began my descent.
The stairway was surprisingly short, leading into a single, dark corridor. Proceeding deeper, I found myself shivering as the temperature suddenly dropped to the point where I could see my own breath. It was a minute or two later that my light fell upon a body, blood splattered along the walls. I gave into instinct, and ran.
As I said before, the stairs had opened to a long, straight corridor. There weren’t any bends or forks or turns where I could have gotten lost. I ran straight back, and never found that set of stairs again. Instead, I found the floor slanting downwards, leading me further into the abyss. Now, more than ever, I find myself believing The Navidson Record could have actually taken place. Nothing about that dungeon’s geometry, structure, or design made sense. I panicked, and turned around again to run back the way I came. I don’t know why, I just did. I never encountered the body I’d previously seen, and the ground kept sloping down into the dark.
I think I ran straight down that corridor for at least an hour, maybe more. I don’t know. Even time seemed to bend back on itself in that place. At some point, the corridor finally leveled out and I found myself in the orgy room from my parent’s video tape. I took a glance around the room when this noise seemed to shake the very walls of hell. It was like... the sound of reality groaning and creaking to accommodate something that shouldn’t be there.
At this point, I’d accepted my fate. I realized I was likely to die there, underground, alone, if not at the hands of a monster then by dehydration, so I didn’t have to worry any more. All I could do was explore. The room had only one other way in or out, which meant that, logically, the other hallway lead to the sacrificial room. Logic was something that betrayed me long ago.
I walked down that new corridor for what felt like maybe ten minutes before it finally opened up into a room – the same one I was in before, except this time there was a third corridor available to me. Wondering if perhaps this wasn’t a case of repeated design, I attempted to return to the previous room. The walk was distinctly shorter, and I found myself in the three-corridor room again.
All I could do was chuckle futilely at the insanity of it all as I began down the new corridor. The walk was long, forcing me to recharge my flashlight several times along the way. Every so often, I’d hear noises. Some were like voices whispering right in my ear, others were low, almost static or distortion-like sounds from far off in the labyrinth. I honestly can’t explain it other than it makes me wonder how much of the noise in videos about him are distortion on the tape and how much are actual audible sounds being recorded.
After what felt like hours, I could see light ahead. Walking into it, I found myself in the sacrificial chamber, staring at the altar where who knows how many children were given to him by people like my parents. Chains still hung at three of the corners, all in what looked like nearly perfect condition. Looking up, I found myself staring at a full moon and a sky filled with stars. It didn’t make sense for a number of reasons. The first being that I’d been deep underground just moments before; the last being that the night before I’d stayed up looking at a crescent moon.
As I looked around the room, I realized the room smelled of sulfur. I took a few steps towards the altar, only to find myself sweating as the temperature rose drastically. I can only imagine that it was a heat similar to what firefighters feel as they enter an inferno. Sweat began to pour off of me as I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I knew he was behind me, lurking in the archway that lead into the only way in or out of the room I was in. I didn’t want it to be true, but I just knew it was. So I turned and faced the terror that has haunted my life all summer.
I found myself frozen in place as I gazed upon my tormentor. I felt like a mouse cornered by a cat. I stared at death itself – dressed in black, faceless, towering over me. And I found myself speaking words that are burned into my memory.
“Finally, we meet. You’ve certainly taken your time.”
I screamed, but I’d lost control of my body to TheArsonist. All I could do was shout inside my mind and watch as a madman got me killed by that horror.
“Can you speak, I wonder? Do you have a mind or do you act on instinct? Where does one like you even come from? You create so many questions and no one seems to have the answers,” Despite my internal protests, TheArsonist took a step towards the monster that blocked my only escape.
And that thing tilted its head. My cold, cruel laugh echoed through the room.
“Do I confuse you? I would presume so. You’re so used to your prey running, hiding, resisting, worshipping… I do believe I may be the first to meet you as your equal, or even your better.”
A quiet buzz began to fill the room, like the earthly equivalent of static on a video tape. The monster’s posture was changing. Where before it had held itself passively, quietly observing, it now gave off an air of malice. I can’t say for certain if it was a trick of the lighting or not, but I thought I saw it’s arms elongate, thought I saw shadows moving behind it. Sensing the oncoming storm, I wanted nothing more than to run the other way.
“Yes… I think you—“
I saw that thing, that tendril, snap towards me with all the speed of a whip, and TheArsonist’s control shattered as survival instinct took over. I dodged as fast as I could, feeling it rip through the sleeve of my shirt. The terror stepped into the room, seeming to grow even taller in the open room. I did all I could, and ran for corridor behind it. The tentacles struck out at me, but somehow, someway, I avoided them. I ran faster than I ever have before, down that dark hallway.
And he was in front of me. I can’t explain it. Panicking, I turned and found a branch in the path that wasn’t there before. With no alternative, I dived into it before that thing could reach out and grab me. I bolted down that passageway, only to find that thing before me once again, and another turn making itself available to me.
I don’t know how long that cat and mouse game lasted, him appearing and me dodging away using the illogic of that strange place, but, eventually, he stopped chasing me. Slumping against a wall, totally exhausted, I fell asleep.
I woke up to his facelessness filling my vision. I choked down a scream, heart pounding in my chest. He seemed to be doing nothing but studying me, and with my back to a wall, I could only let him. It felt like I was frozen there for hours, but I’m sure it was mere seconds before I felt that tug on my mind.
TheArsonist was taking over. I did all I could to resist, but it wasn’t enough. I felt a smirk cross my lips. I spit in the monster’s “face”. My ears popped from the screech that filled the entire room as tendrils struck out at me again and I fainted…
The next thing I knew, I was bolting through the woods. I can only presume TheArsonist somehow got us out. As I ran, it felt like he was everywhere. No matter which way I turned and pointed my light, he always seemed to fill it. Again, I blacked out as my alternate took control.
I woke up here a few hours ago. I found a note on my table: “Well done, we’re safe”. On top of it was a bone with markings and engravings on it. I can only presume this is what TheArsonist wanted from the dungeon, and that he found it after he spat in the face of death itself.
Yet, despite having this totem that will supposedly protect me, I feel like I’m living on borrowed time. I keep expecting for him to appear before me, and I won’t get lucky again.
My story is going to end soon.