Hey, it’s me again. I thought I’d upload the next few pages of this diary here as well. These are all the entries I’ve already read myself:
“March 28, 1986: The night after the strange incident with the bird was restless and plagued by nightmares. The image of the spinning bird haunted me in my dreams, and I woke up sweating and frightened several times. The darkness of the basement seemed to gnaw at my inner self.
Last night I called Dr. Smith. He’s an experienced researcher and a close friend I trust, even though I hadn’t told him about my secret experiments so far. Dr. Smith agreed to come over today and on the phone I only told him that I urgently needed his help with a mysterious case.
Before his arrival, I checked the surveillance recordings and deduced from the still dancing bird that it posed hardly any escape risk. When he arrived and opened the metal door to the basement, his expression turned serious as soon as he noticed the bird on the floor, still trapped in its grotesque dance. “What the hell is this?” he muttered as he approached and examined the bird more closely.
I told him everything, from my experiments to the moment the bird began its dance. Dr. Smith scratched his chin thoughtfully and studied the surveillance recordings.
We decided to lock the subject in the basement for the time being and conduct further investigations. The next few days should reveal whether there were any changes in its condition or if it posed a threat.
I could see the fear in Dr. Smith’s eyes, even though he tried to hide it. We had created something beyond our imagination, and we didn’t know how to deal with it. Our research had brought us to a dangerous point, and we would do everything to uncover the truth about this grotesque creature.
April 3, 1986: The past few days passed without incidents (aside from my worsening nightmares), and we spent hours conducting experiments on the strange bird, which remained in an eerie state of suspension. Our experiments were meant to shed light on the darkness of this mysterious phenomenon.
Our first attempt was to expose the subject to different environmental conditions to observe its reaction. We changed the temperature in the basement, played sounds, and manipulated the light. However, the bird did not react to these changes at all. It remained trapped in its mysterious dance, as if controlled by an invisible force.
Our next step was to analyze the serum with which I originally revived the bird. We discovered that the serum was an extremely unstable substance and rapidly degraded. My supply, which I had ignored for the past week, had completely decomposed and turned into a yellow acid. However, we temporarily set this aside to focus on the subject.
We concentrated on studying its strange movements. We filmed the bird and analyzed the footage frame by frame. It seemed as if it was trapped in an endless loop, its wings and legs moving in an eerie, repetitive pattern.
In a desperate attempt to learn more about this phenomenon, we decided to tranquilize the bird and then dissect it to examine its internal organs more closely. We hoped this would provide clues about the cause of its condition. However, when I shot the bird with my tranquilizer gun, it still showed no reaction and continued its incessant dance. Neither normal exhaustion nor a tranquilizer could stop it. For now, we will wait a few more days to see if the bird finally collapses. If not, I will have to get a gun, as I certainly will not approach this thing with a knife, nor will I live with a dancing zombie bird in the basement forever.
April 7, 1986: The past few days have become a real torture. The bird shows no signs of exhaustion or weakness, no matter what we try. Neither the environmental conditions we change nor tranquilizers can stop its movements. It’s as if it’s driven by an unstoppable and invisible force.
Our frustration and fear grow with each day the bird remains trapped in its grotesque dance. The nights are unbearable for me, with nightmares more intense than ever. I can’t shake the image of the dancing bird from my mind, and I wonder if there’s a way to end this torment.
I’ve seriously considered getting a gun to put an end to the creature, but I hesitate. It feels wrong to kill a living being, even if it’s trapped in this unexplainable state. But the longer this nightmare continues, the more I wonder if it’s even a living being anymore or just a grotesque parody of life and death.
Dr. Smith and I have reached a point where we feel powerless. Our research hasn’t brought us closer to a solution but has only drawn us deeper into this mystery. We must make a decision before this nightmare completely consumes us.
April 8, 1986: Today, we finally managed to overcome ourselves and shoot the subject. At least, that was the original plan, but this thing continued unaffected even after a headshot. A thick, black liquid oozed from the wounds. As far as Dr. Smith and I can tell, it seems like the creature is rotting internally while maintaining its external form.
In our desperation, we doused the subject with gasoline and set it on fire. I should never have started this experiment. I swear that even when there were only bones left, those absurd movements continued for a few more seconds until the skeleton finally fell to the ground and was reduced to little more than ashes.
I can’t begin to understand what exactly happened here, and I don’t think it can be explained solely by science. But I fear I must continue to research, as I don’t think I’ll ever find peace from this otherwise.
April 9, 1986: Dr. Smith agreed that we must continue, and he will stay in my guest room for the time being.”
I’d like to add the following: The person from whom I bought this house seems to be the brother of the author of these notes. At least, that’s what the real estate agent explained to me, as the seller wanted nothing more to do with this building.
I’d also like to note that neither the author, who apparently was Dr. Stone, nor Dr. Smith planned to move out of here. I’ve disposed of most of their belongings by now, but when I first arrived, both the master bedroom and the guest room seemed like they had hastily chosen a few clothing items and left in a hurry.
Regarding the other peculiarities: This strange experimentation basement definitely exists, but the room no longer has a metal door; it’s about 2 meters away from the house in the garden now. However, there are still clear signs that a strong fire burned something on the floor at one point. The table is still there, but it doesn’t seem designed for the bird from the story unless the two of them were experimenting on a damn albatross. However, there’s little left of the former laboratory; it seems like all the documents and research results were destroyed before their departure.
All of this concerns me, especially in combination with the diary, and I’ll be spending the next few days in a hotel. Hopefully, I’ll be able to sleep well again, and I also hope that the contents of the diary are just a story meant to disturb future residents.
Unfortunatly i saw a weirdly dancing sparrow this morning in a bush next to the entrance of the house and even in my hotel room right now i can hear a sound that kinda resembles a bird song but it just doesn’t sound right…