“This is Detective Hector Gutierrez. I’ve recently been assigned to a case involving several burnt corpses. So far there has been a serious lack of evidence, which is frustrating, to say the least. However, I have recently discovered a video file on a laptop that we recovered from the scene. I’m not allowed to release the video just yet, but my superiors have given me the green light to share the audio. I’m hoping someone out there who hears this might know something and come forward. I can promise you protection and anonymity. Please if you know anything, anything at all, you could be saving lives by sharing it with us. Before I play the audio, I must warn you, that this can get pretty graphic. I urge you not to listen with any young ones in the room. Again, anything you may be able to help us with could save a life. These deaths have been grotesque in nature please don’t allow these atrocities to continue if you know something. Here’s the audio.”
Audio file one: “This is Professor Reginald Jackson. I’m leaving this video journal as a warning. I thought I was ok, I thought I had escaped. I realize now that there is no escaping, Cliff House. You see we were doing a study on the history of Cliff House. I’m sorry my mind is all over the place right now. A man came to see me at the University. He offered five years of funding for my department if we would investigate a potential investment he had lined up. I thought it an odd request but then he told me he just needed a comprehensive report on the history of Cliff House including some field studies. I put together a team to include two of my junior colleagues and five students. At first, it was just a lot of digging through archives and documenting historical data, timelines, and that sort of thing. The client had expressed a rather enthusiastic interest in any urban legends that may exist about the property. I really wasn’t expecting to find much despite the site’s peculiar penchant for catching on fire.
When I did find something, I almost dismissed it but thought better of it, recalling the client’s emphasis on being completely thorough. He had specified that I should leave no stone unturned and no detail out. If he had already heard of this particular flight of fancy, he would know that I had not completed my task to the fullest. So, I began reading this strange tale from its beginning. To summarize, it told of a ritual that would summon the true spirit of the land on which Cliff House was built. That this spirit would give you a glimpse into the past and reveal the true nature of the land on which Cliff House resides. It also came with a warning, one I deeply regret not taking seriously. It warned that only serious seekers of the truth and believers in the occult should attempt the ritual. It claimed that the lack of faith in this process could cause the ritual to go horribly wrong and that the spirit does not tolerate non-believers. Of course, I scoffed at this, I am a man of science.
This text also claimed that this spirit was an elemental, fire to be precise. That did catch my attention since there had been multiple fires which have plagued Cliff House. Of course, I logically believed that the fires were what had inspired this tall tale. How cocky I was. For all my Intelligence I failed to see that the attached parchment which held the ritual itself was much older than the documents which held it. The parchment which also alluded to a fire elemental was older than the Cliff House itself. There were side notes scrawled next to the older text amending the ritual to fit Cliff House itself. Although that appeared strange to me it was nowhere near as strange as the main text. When I first looked at the parchment the text appeared to be in a language I didn’t recognize. After reading the notes someone had added in English, I looked back at the text and saw that it too was in English. I dismissed this as my imagination. Men of logic are often blinded by the very rationality that serves them. If something does not fit within the boundaries of known logic it is illogical and therefore untrue. How wrong I was. Even as a child, I knew that some things in this world defy logic, and some things have no rational explanation. When did I become so pompous? Lord forgive me. For Pride truly comes before the fall. Fall I did. I fell, spiraling down into the madness, which is truly Cliff House, or at least the land on which it sits. Unfortunately, this is a lesson learned much too late. Cliff House or rather the spirit which resides there has managed to sink its claws into me. Once attached it will never let go. I know this now. I’m sorry I must keep moving If I am to finish this before my untimely demise, which now seems imminent.” End Audio file one.
Audio file two: “Sorry about that. Where was? I. Oh yes. I must move within an hour, or the entity will claim me. I know I can’t run forever, and I have exhausted all attempts to find a solution. My only hope now is that I can complete this journal before the inevitable end arrives. This specter or spirit of the land is malicious. The text that I later procured showed that this spirit was called upon by indigenous peoples to exact revenge. They were slaughtered before the ritual was complete, leaving this curse isolated to the immediate area under and surrounding Cliff House. I have unwittingly exposed myself and my team to the full severity of this entity’s power. A regret I will not have to bear much longer I’m afraid. One of my students suggested that we attempt the ritual contained in the parchment as part of our field study for the sake of due diligence. Misled by disbelief in such things, I foolishly agreed. We were to complete the first part from the beach below the Cliff House and just South. When I witnessed the change to the structure, I should have quit the investigation right there and then. My thirst for knowledge would not allow my retreat. I was driven ever forward by the need for answers, and my desire, for a rational explanation.”
“Upon completing the first part of the ritual, the structure began growing. While the Cliff House has undergone many facelifts and even multiple rebuilds, the form it took was easily recognizable. It was quite possibly the grandest appearance that the Cliff House had ever held. The “Gingerbread” or “Victorian” Cliff House of the late 1890s to early 1900s, all seven stories of it suddenly and ominously loomed over us. Our group, while deafly silent at first, didn’t take long to begin buzzing like a hornet’s nest with theories and hypotheses galore. Even then they struck me as pretentious. The proverbial pot calling the kettle black I know, but for the sake of honesty I must hold nothing back if my warning is to be taken seriously. We made the hike up to the entrance of Cliff House where we promptly froze, every last one of us. No one was eager to be the first to venture through the doorway. Keep in mind I do not mean the doorway of the structure you see on Point Lobos today, but the grand entry of a seven-story castle-like structure that burnt down to its very foundation many years ago. I stood cemented in place. Fact-based based as my mind was, one fact trumped all else. The fact that what I was seeing could not be, and that it left me as scared as a toddler in the dark.”
“Being the leader of this expedition, I knew they were looking to me to lead the way. Although my body fought me every step of the way I forced myself to maintain a confident appearance as I stepped through the doorway. The entry was grand Indeed. Once inside we bore witness to architecture that can only be described as magnificent, as was the fact that we were literally walking through history. The high ceilings and columns were spectacularly designed. We took photograph after photograph anxious to document every detail. Eventually, however, someone was bold enough to broach the subject I had been dreading. The second part of the ritual. I knew it was inevitable, but I had attempted to convince myself that what we had achieved thus far would be enough. Of course, It was not. Nothing is ever enough for people obsessed with the pursuit of knowledge. We Climbed the stairwell floor by floor. Once we reached the top floor, we made our way to the observation tower and ascended further. The observation tower was where the final part of the ritual was to take place.”
“One of the very reasons I found this text questionable, aside from finding the occult to be rubbish, is the fact that the second part of the ritual was to be carried out in the observation tower. An observation tower that hadn’t existed in a very long time. It made no mention that the tower, much less the entire structure, would return as it did once the initial part of the ritual was complete. Not that I would have believed it from the start, but here I am now questioning every reality that I have known. All for not for the hour has grown far too late. I’m sorry for going on a tangent again. I digress. We started setting up for the completion of the ritual. I became very uneasy but once again the thirst for knowledge overshadowed common sense. That voice in the back of my head that’s there to protect me was drowned out by the voice of ambition. We were quite possibly on the precipice of the greatest discovery since the beginning of time. Proof of life beyond life. Spirits and alternate realities. While this was all too much for my logical mind to comprehend, it was all here waiting to be discovered. Once the final ritual began things became dark ever so quickly. You could feel the malevolence and hatred like a hand gripping tightly to your soul. My apologies It’s found me once more. I must relocate before continuing this journal, if I still live.” End Audio file Two
Audio file three: “The portable lights we had set up flickered and flashed before going out entirely. A cool wind gusted through the room though no windows were open. The only illumination was a pale moonlight creeping through the tower windows, as a sense of panic filled the dark void left by the silence. We awaited a response to the now completed ritual like statues in the dark. After what felt like a small eternity, a sound began emanating from everywhere all at once. The sounds became clearer as if they were words. Words being chanted over and over. Words chanted in a language I did not know. Uci Ara-i Coto, Uci Ara-i Coto, Uci Ara-i Coto. We witnessed a shape form out of the surface of a nearby wall. It slowly became the shape of a person reaching out toward us. One of my colleagues, Joshua, was seized by the featureless shape as its hand took a firm grip on Joshua’s throat. Realizing that Josh was being strangled we rushed to his aid. His body burst into flames before the nearest of us could reach him. We worked feverishly to extinguish the flames only to be left with the stench of a burnt corpse. Panic escalated from a feeling to an action as every person in the room fled down to the seventh floor.
We ran to the stairwell in an attempt to retreat. We got as far as the landing below the fifth floor when a curtain of fire rose up around a student named Steven enveloping him in flames. Unlike Joshua who had his windpipe crushed. Joshua who died without screams and asphyxiated before the fire could finish him, this young man was not so lucky. If there is an afterlife, I believe Stevens’s screams will follow me there, Unable to reach him before collapsed we retreated to the fifth floor. The chanting was relentless as we hastily navigated the halls in search of another exit. Apparitions appeared and disappeared in the hallways shredding any sense of sanity that may have been left. With only the animal instinct remaining withdrew through the stairwell door nearly trampling each other in the process. We made it as far as the second-floor landing when multiple shapes began forming and stretching out of the walls. One of my students pushed another into one of these shapes in an attempt to save himself. Unfortunately for him, he missed the shape right behind him and backed right into it. My remaining junior colleague Thomas tried to skirt around them and went rolling down the stairs right into another that shape which had formed on the landing below. The…stairwell.,… My God it’s back already and it hasn’t even been an hour yet. It’s starting to catch up with me quicker now. If I’ll make it I’ll add more to the journal, if not, then I hope you at least get something out of this. End Audio file three
Audio file four: Ok, ok, I. Sorry just give me a second. Ok, I was in The Stairwell. The stairwell quickly filled with smoke as my colleague and two of my students burst into flames. My two remaining students vaulted the railing down to the first floor. The screaming began almost immediately, followed by more smoke. There were flames everywhere in that stairwell and so I retreated to the second floor. I picked up a chair and smashed a window then climbed out. Looking behind me I saw a shape stretching its way out of a wall. Its head turned toward me, and I knew I was out of options. I closed my eyes and jumped. The pain radiated through my legs and up my spine. I crawled at first, unable to stand., Eventually the sense of urgency generated enough adrenaline to motivate me back to a standing position. Walking still came with great difficulty but I managed something close to a normal pace by the time I reached the car. I looked back at the Cliff House to see it entirely engulfed in flames. I climbed inside the vehicle and after sending the key home I sparked the engine to life. When I looked up again the Cliff House had returned to its present-day structure sans flames. I knew that contacting the authorities would avail me nothing more than a padded room, so I just ran.
When I made it back to the hotel, we had booked for the trip I secured my bag from the vehicle and proceeded to the room. My clothes were permeated by the scent of scorched flesh, so I began removing them promptly. My stomach took it upon itself to evacuate whatever contents it held within. I remained in the shower until the hot water ran cold. I staggered toward the bed only to collapse halfway there. I awoke some hours later with the feeling of being watched. That’s when I heard the sound of the wallpaper ripping. Although extremely disoriented, I grabbed my duffle bag and exited my room as naked as the day I was born. I took no notice of anyone who may have seen me, and I quickly limped my way back to my car. Speeding out of the parking lot I checked the rearview mirror relieved to find nothing more than an empty street. I stopped three miles down the road and retrieved some clothes from my duffle. Having finished the task of dressing myself I pulled the laptop from the bag and powered it up. I stared at the screen for some time not knowing who I could contact or what I meant to do. That’s when I came up with the plan to send a warning to the world by posting our experience, our demise.
It’s coming again. Been only fifteen minutes this time. Coming faster and faster now. Won’t be long before I simply can’t escape. So tired. I think this is the end for me. Please take this seriously. This isn’t legend or myth. This isn’t fantasy, this is a serious warning. There are things out there that cannot be defined by science or logic or even common sense. Some of them can hurt you. Some of them, can kill you. The land on which the Cliff House resides is tainted. There is a malevolent spirit there that means you harm. If you come across some sort of ancient ritual, don’t try it. If you hear rumors or read stories that a potentially dangerous possibly paranormal threat exists somewhere, do not dismiss it so easily. I learned too late. All that is left for me now is to escape one last time so I can find a place with Wi-Fi and post this. God, please let me make it. End Audio file four
That was the final entry. We retrieved the laptop while investigating a burnt corpse that had been reported outside a Starbucks. Again, if anyone has any information, please, please come forward. My partner left to investigate Cliff House this morning. I haven’t heard from him since. I’m going to have a look for myself. This is Detective Hector Gutierrez signing off.