Unknown date and time: journal entry found buried in a pit beside an abandoned school. If you have any information on Judas please contact the FBI. We will be releasing what we can
This wasn’t what I had wanted to do with my life. Sitting in a small, cramped stall of a bathroom made for young children. My long legs stretched awkwardly against the door in front of me, fear pumping into my veins turning them to ice as the darkness of the room unnerved me. My breath came at a fast, rapid pace.
How did I get into this situation? Trapped, in the stall of a bathroom, my once beautiful long hair chopped off and dripped blood to the floor below. My phone clenched in my palm, red smeared against the dark screen as I hastily tried to type out this message. I need the world to know what I found, what I witnessed, but I have to be quick. I can hear it. An inhuman clicking that comes deep from the throat, the clack of claw on tiles. It’s coming. I have to hurry, but I have to start from the beginning.
I know my scent is masked right now, the smell of blood covering every inch of the bathroom. I can see it pooling under the stall, the blue light from my phone occasionally shows me how far the puddle is reaching. I don’t think I’ll get out of this alive, but if I can warn people–
I can hear it. A scream. It sounds like the distressed call of a woman, but I know better now. I understand.
If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead.
-
It started with a break up, nasty break up. I’m not a good person. We worked together, she was a photographer, I am a writer. Traveling the world together with my dog, Buffy. Taking pictures of some of the most exclusive tribes in Africa, writing about the ruins of old churches in England, eating the most delicious food in France, finding the hidden secrets of spice in India.
Our research and photos were published in hundreds of magazines, this came with a little bit of fame and fortune! That is, until I started to get greedy. The fall out was intense, what I did to her unspeakable and I deserved to lose everything we worked for, all our friends, connections, even my dog groomer took her side but I don’t blame him.
This caused me to stagger between jobs, trying to find my foot back in the door, but without her? I found it nearly impossible. My name was tarnished in the world of journalism, I was nothing. Then COVID happened, this landed me in more hot water as it became impossible to travel.
I decided to pack up what little I had and move cities, Buffy becoming my only family. I was alone now but maybe that’s for the better, I like my tiny apartment in the heart of the city. With its cold showers, uneven floor and constantly dripping pipes. It was home.
To make money during the pandemic I started to stream on twitch, I decided to use my experiences to my advantage as well as my dog. Strapping a GoPro to Buffy’s head was the start, as we explored abandoned buildings, dark caves and old churches my view count started to grow allowing me to pay off my rent and keep myself afloat even if it wasn’t what I used to have. People really enjoyed a “dog’s eye view” of things and Buffy was the perfect dog to do it! A medium size with ears that stood half up, one flopping down more than the other. A German Shepherd looking pelt, bright brown eyes and the most patient dog I’ve met, he’s my saving grace.
While editing a stream one day I got a call from a local streamer, nothing unusual. I often like to work with others on my small camp trips to strange, often abandoned, places. Brushing my fingers over the touch screen caused my friend’s voice to bellow from the speakers so loud I jumped. “Hey Judas!” He said, his Brooklyn accent made my name sound almost comical coming from his lips, “I got a place for you to explore,”
I paused, he often found good spots that brought forth a lot of interest. I glanced over to Buffy who snoozed on his back, paws in the air that twitched as if he were running. We had just returned from exploring an old church, nearly falling through the floor! I had started to wonder how safe everything was, but the idea of money overpowered this concern. “A place?” I replied, “This one going to skyrocket me into the youtube hall of fame?” “Buffy, maybe. No one wants your ugly mug attached to it!” He said, there was a soft laugh in his voice.
“That’s not what ya’ muddah said last night,” I said with a mock brooklyn accent causing my friend to laugh louder, I went back to editing as I listened to him ramble on for a few minutes about making fun of his accent before returning to the subject at hand. “Anyways, wise ass,” He said, “This is a little different, you know how you wanted to get back into actual Journalism?”
My attention had fallen completely to the phone now, forgetting about the editing I was doing as I turned in my chair to look at the device as if I expected to see the man’s gleaming eyes on the screen. “Yeah?” I said, “I’m not going to write a piece of you if that’s what you’re implying!” “I wish!” He snorted, “If I was big enough to have an article written about me I tell you, you’re goofy ass would make at least ten percent,” “Wow! ten percent? What will I do with all that extra money?” I was growing a little impatient, Cletus liked to talk.
“Spend it wisely!” He said, “About this–” “Yeah, anyways!” I could hear the smile on his lips, feel his energy sparking through the phone. He was excited about this, which lifted my spirits just a little. “I’m going to email you more information, there’s this church a few towns over. They’re this weird…community church? Well anyways, it’s full of scientists trying to find God or something,” He chuckles at this, “I think it’s a waste of time! But my Uncle apparently lives in it. He told me they’re looking for a reporter to come in and write a piece on them! Using pictures and everything! I guess the popo think they a cult or some shit,” He took in a breath before letting it out audibly.
“Are you high? What could I possibly do with that? My entire channel about attaching a gopro to my dog’s head and letting him run wild, what could a church possibly want with that?” He let out a few rapid coughs telling me that, yes, he was indeed high.
“Man,” He says with an exasperated tone, “Not the dog thing! Back when you were with Julia!” I felt a thorn in my heart, Cletus never knew her and was the only actual friend I had now. I took in a breath as he continued to chatter in my ear about how ‘good’ my writing is, that she was crazy, yada yada. It was something he did often, always coming up with new ways to get me back into writing.
“Look man, I don’t think I can do this,” He murmured, twisting in my chair as I spoke, Buffy watched me with lazy eyes. “Besides, why would a church want a failure to write an article on them. No one would read it!”
“Judas the dudest, you are the dumbest mother fucker I’ve met,” He laughed, “I’m sending you the information, this is a once and a life time opportunity! It ain’t often I know anyone important, and I guess this weird church has been the talk of the town. What better way to return to the journalism world? Writing a giant piece on how God exists or something. Stupid people love that!”
I groaned, he was right, I needed something to get me back in the game. It’d been far too long and with a lot of the restrictions falling apart it would be the ideal time to do it. I pondered this for a few heartbeats, watching Buffy as if I expected him to give me a thumbs up. I absentmindedly bit the skin on my lip, tearing it off as the anxiety pooled through me.
“Fine, send me the details,” I finally said, causing Cletus to shout in excitement. I heard his phone clatter to the floor, I used this opportunity to hang up the phone and return my gaze to the screen on the computer. My phone chimed only a few seconds later to alert me to the new mail, clicking it open my eyes traced the documents.
The body of the message is blank, but the first document reads, ‘For Judas’. Opening the file I was surprised to see it wasn’t something from Cletus but a man known as ‘Father Theos’ . I grimaced at the name, it sounded familiar but I couldn’t put a finger on it.
Dear Judas Brone
My name is Theos. Most everyone calls me Father but you may call me by my given name. I am a Prophet of the Lord and am dedicated to proving his existence. I was informed by one of my church members that you were once a big name Journalist, that you wrote the truth! The truth, my friend, is what I am interested in. You see, the world has started to believe the worst of us. We are not a cult, we simply want to prove the truth and if we can have someone with such a big name come into the community to help us we would be more than happy to accommodate you for a few days. Give you a tour around the facility, what we are doing, and how we are simply curious minds trying to find the existence of our creator.
I hope to hear from you soon! You are welcome to bring your dog with you as well as a friend or loved one. We will be waiting with bated breath for you.
much love, Theos and the Pearly Gates
“Sounds like a cult to me,” I said to Buffy, putting a hand on his head as he padded up to inform me of his late supper, I read over the second page that highlighted what was needed, for how long I should stay as well as more information of the Church known as Pearly Gates: A church destined prove God’s existence.
I closed the email and sat back, could I really do this? Why me? It seemed as if it were already personal, usually when someone reaches out for me to write an article about them it wasn’t written as if I’ve known the guy forever. I reopened the email, going to hit the ‘reply’ button until I noticed the words ‘Payment’ in another attachment. I swore, if it was a cartoon my eyes would turn to dollar signs. I hadn’t expected anything but possible exposure for my word but as I started to glance over the payment option I could feel the wheels in my head turning.
“What do you think, Buff?” I asked, glancing towards my companion. It would be easy, right? I got to my feet, causing my partner to hop towards the doorway. On my way to the kitchen to serve up a bowl of overly expensive dog slop I couldn’t help but think, just a few days around a handful of weird scientists. Take pictures, do some gopro live streaming, write up a crummy article and get paid a stack. It wasn’t anything I wasn’t going to do anyways with my next visit I had planned to an old ‘haunted’ hospital. Well, aside from the people.
As I dished out the food into a bowl I couldn’t stop myself from thinking over the name. Theos, it was so familiar. Maybe it means something? I felt my phone go off again, I checked it and opened a message from Cletus.
‘You gonna do it, my man?’ With a roll of my eyes I dropped the bowl to the floor to my waiting mongrel before leaning against the counter, rushing my fingers through my long curly hair. ‘Yeah, I guess I’m doing this,’ I paused, ‘Buffy’s coming too. Least if the scientists try to do weird experiments on me I’ll have some sort of help,’