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A Tale of two men

Opening

Ray Thomas Brown, that’s my name, that’s


what I was known as before I came in,
people call me fox now. I, like most others,
know little about the world outside these
walls, I’ve been here for over twenty five
years. Do I want to leave? Sure as hell but I
won’t be able to. By lord, I haven’t even told
you were I am, welcome to Heavergree
Island or more precise Heavergree prison,
that’s right, I’m a criminal or so they say. I’m
a criminal who committed nothing more than
attempting to find out more about the
anomaly known as ‘The Bermuda triangle’
and for it I ended up here. But let me tell
you the tale from the beginning.
Chapter 1 – A Hard Day’s Work

I was a reported before worked for a small


newspaper company called ‘Texan weekly’
it wasn’t big just a small paper for a few
small towns who wanted news with a Texan
twist. I’d worked for them since I was nine at
first as a paper boy and then at nineteen as
a reporter. There were a few other
employees’ in my area Larry fisher a boy a
year younger than me with his head in the
stars, Susan Brooks a twenty five year old
who did a lot of crosswords and Mr. Crowley
our boss. Now Crowley was the kind of man
who always had a problem whether it is with
work or home and when he was in
everything was harder.

Now my tale begins on Thursday the


sixteenth July twenty eleven a seemingly
normal day, woke up got dressed had a
coffee went to work and looked for stories
and it all started off at about three fifteen.
‘BROWN!’ barked Mr. Crowley as he
charged down the hallway like an enraged
elephant the veins on his bald head were
almost popping out and his forehead had
turned bright red. ‘BROWN, WHAT DO
YOU THINK THIS IS?’ he shrieked like a
vulture pointing at an article I wrote about
the recent Harley Brew bombings. ‘An
article sir’ i stuttered his very figure was
fearsome despite his size, Mr. Crowley was
a short middle aged man, his head was a
round as a football and had about as much
hair as one too, he wore brown suits and
always shouted, his temper was awful and
after a week working under him you wonder
if he ever isn’t mad.

Crowley was furious as he pointed to it ‘this


isn’t work, brown, this is horse fodder!’ Now
you may not know it but being yelled at
usually makes you feel good but being
yelled at by a gentleman who’s half your
size is humorous. Now a well-known thing
about Crowley was that he hated people
saying he was small it was like starving a
zoo lion, only ending with bad results. I’d
trained myself not to smile, laugh, chuckle
or show any signs of humor but somehow
something made me crack a smile for a
second. Unfortunately for me Crowley saw
it, ‘BROWN DO YOU THINK THIS IS
FUNNY?” he said as his entire head started
turning red ‘THIS IS NOT FUNNY BROWN
NOW ETHER FIND ME A GOOD STORY
BY THE END OF THE MONTH OR YOUR
FIRED’ he trampled out and to his office
catching the site of a small crowd that had
crept towards the door. Now I’d love to say I
got a brilliant story, something that got to
the top, something that every reader on the
earth read and thought my, that’s a good
read. However the same being that made
me crack of a smile stopped me from finding
one. On August the third I was fired.

Within a month I lost my house and went to


live in a youth hostel and within the year I
was surviving on one hundred dollars a
month. The misfortune that was brought on
me seemed to have no end until the
following April when an emergency news
report flew on the television. ‘Hello this is
Mark Hoffman with Sky news. A young man
named Larry Fisher disappeared today
when heading to his house in Dallas, Texas.
He was a Reporter for the small newspaper
‘Texan Weekly’ here is a picture of him. If
you know any information that may help in
his discovery please contact your local
police station immediately.

That was the beginning of my end, I’d been


looking for a story since I was fired so I
could get back in the business and there’s
nothing like a disappearing Texan to get you
a job. Looking back I probably would have
done better leaving this to the big shots,
never go that big story it just led me on to
more and more bigger ones until eventually
I ended up here Heavergree Island,
Heavergree prison
Chapter 2 – A young man’s game

About three weeks into the case I started


getting followed by a police officer, rumor
had it that I was a prime suspect, thinking
about it I probably was, a local man who
use to work with him, fired and been
seeking employment since and now I was
finding out about him and the investigation.
Foolishly this didn’t stop me in fact if
anything it drove me to keep going.

Near the end of April a neighbor gave me


the spare keys to Larry’s house, it was a
fifth floor apartment building near the east
side of town. The insides were cluttered and
dark with numerous electrical problems
such as broken lights and faulty cookers but
in the trash yard that was his house a single
room stood out as if it were misplaced like a
diamond amongst gravel or a swan
amongst chickens. Inside it lay the
beginning of my real adventure.

A map of the world and fifteen files lay


around the room massive boards and notes
were hung up around and amongst them
drawings of symbols. On the desk beneath
the map a book lay entitled ‘The Great
Military Scandal’ sat awaiting his return. As I
approached it I saw words on the floor with
lines among them it was illuminated with a
more light bulbs then the rest of the house
had and among the symbols was the logo of
the Royal Air force, American military,
afghan flag and many others and in big
letters above the map was ‘All connected,
They knew, THEY KNEW!’ the map had
pins placed on countries in cities like
Moscow in Russia and even towns like
Yorkshire in England but highlighted among
it was the Bermuda triangle and in the
middle crudely drawn was an island with the
words ‘Heavergree Island’ next to it.

I picked up his diary and skimmed through


‘sixteenth July twenty eleven, Crowley went
mental at ray, stupid tosser, if Crowley is
cracking at ray how long till me? Il have to
make up a story keep this one secret, no
one can know, not yet.’ Astonishment flew
through me as I read more about him until it
got to August third twenty eleven ‘Ray’s
fired, got his office but boss wants more
work someone’s following me every day the
white van and the hooded man follow me to
work then follow me home I swear he hears
me somehow when I’m in my house, never
alone, never alone!’ as it continued he
slowly descanted into insanity until the final
comment ‘April the third twenty twelve. I
hear voices they warn me but I’ve cracked it
tomorrow I will tell everyone tomorrow I will
tell the world. The hooded man isn’t here
anymore he left a week ago. Saw ray when
I was going to work poor sod, he’s living in a
small house after I get this story out I’ll help
him, yes, the voices will like that, they will
go away.’

I shut the book in dismay. And as I shut it a


loud smacking noise appeared from the
living room. I gulped unable to imagine what
I would see. I peered round the edge and in
the room stood a hooded man. I darted
round the corner back into the room and
shut the door locking it I stuffed some notes
in my pockets and took pictures of the
symbols and map on my phone I grabbed
the diary and crudely hid it under my shirt
and crept to the door as I opened the locks
footsteps appeared outside I stopped
moving completely, the room was so quiet I
could hear my own breath. As they stopped
I opened the door quietly and standing in
front of me was the Hooded man.
Chapter 3 – Escape

‘I woke up today afraid I wouldn’t see the


end of it, I think I heard a chopper fly above
last night. Must get story out though, must
get it out.’ The final entry of the diary

So there I was pockets full of notes diary


crudely hidden under my shit and my phone
full of strange symbols and right in front of
me is the hooded man. I was in a state of
shock can’t believe how he’s really changed
my life, well then I didn’t know but now I
know I made the wrong move.

I stopped completely, my body froze as I


analyzed the situation. I was like a child
facing his deepest fear consumed by
despair. He reached to me attempting to
grab me but thankfully I slammed the door
shut on him crushing his hand in the
process a loud scream flew through the
house as he withdrew his hand with
vivacious speed. I quickly opened the door
and whilst he was in a state of shock and
confusion I darted for the exit, I felt as
though my life depending on it as I leapt
threw the door I saw him start trying to run
towards me, his hand was bleeding and his
legs were in disarray allowing me to get a
good head start.

I’d never been a good runner as many


others aren’t but as you could probably
guess our legs start ignoring that fact and
your mind starts forgetting you get tired
when you’re running for your life. I darted
down the stairs as I got a floor down I could
hear his boots smacking against the bricks I
kept trying to go faster but my legs were
starting to fail. When I got to the bottom I
was out of breath but my mind would not let
me stop I sprinted towards my car like a
starving cheetah would to a lone gazelle. As
I ripped the door open the hooded man
arrived at the bottom his hood was off and
his face revealed he had short straight hair
and aged skin, a scar lied on his left check
and his brown eyes scanned the area. I got
my car ready as soon as possible and as I
had just reversed he spotted me and
starting making for his van, ‘the hooded
man and his white van’ I pushed my car to
the limits trying to get as much space as
possible between me and him a few meters
ahead was a traffic light and it had just
turned red.
I pushed harder on the clutch my car sped
forwards at ludicrous speeds until it reached
the lights speeding across as another two
cars started approaching I narrowly avoided
them only to see the van smash into the
second. I escaped this time narrowly but, I
wondered if I could again.

I drove to my hostel and locked the doors


heading to my study. I’d been given a room
with an onsite bathroom but as the toilet
was only a minute down the hall id
converted it into a study it was a dark place
with one window at the top the walls had a
dirty cream wall paper and amount the bins
were a desk and chair, as I said I’d been
trying to find a story most of what id found
ended up in a bin however.

I put his notes of the table and pinned a few


to my wall loaded my phones pictures onto
the laptop I was given as a farewell gift from
Susan, I say laptop its battery’s had stopped
working years before and was more a hard
drive but it worked well enough. As I
skimmed threw the images and diary entry’s
I realized in so much more detail what Larry
had found and when I got to the end I
realized why he was killed for it.
Chapter 4 – A conspiracy to far

‘The voices are getting louder they warn


me. The hooded man has left and so has
the white van but the voices are telling me
strange things, dark things’ extract from the
diary

Well the conspiracy. It was not nice at all.


Turns out that spot the pilots and sailors call
the ‘Bermuda Triangle’ right in the middle is
an island and on it is a massive military
base owned by the US and British military.
Now this base is not a normal base it’s a
fully functioning facility as most of you know.
But there are more parts than just the
prison.

The base is split into six main parts. The


first is the sleeping areas were the
scientists, wardens and soldiers rest. Next
to it is the prison as you can see. By that is
the labs themselves were they research the
properties of something called the ‘Under-
door’ which is rumored to be a gateway to
another dimension. Then there’s the
shooting range and armory. Next to that is
the conference chambers were the senior
leaders meet and the ambassadors stay.
Finally is the largest part of the island the
great chasm that leads to the ‘Under-door.’

But enough about the facility’s mapping let


me tell you how it came to exist. March 15th
1944, US aircraft the ‘Marshal Susan’ is
flying supplies over to Europe when It
suddenly disappears of the map. On the
ship is about three tons of supply’s so the
Americans are looking for it. After 4 days
the ship appears again the entire crew is
dead but the ship is intact and left in the
cockpit is a note saying ‘The Under-Door is
ours.’ The Americans temporarily dismiss it
until after the end of WWII. During
Churchill’s visit to America he is told of the
island and Operation Omega Blue begins. A
mass army of twenty five thousand soldiers
flies into the Non-Comunicationary Zone
(NCZ) after two weeks a transmission is
received from the ship ‘Texan Seal’
reporting an island that has been
discovered. This island is where we are
now, this island is Bermuanda. Bermuanda
is bang in the middle of the Bermuda
Triangle and the under door releases these
pulses of energy which do strange things to
electronics. The first pulse received is called
the Mandana Pulse as it was found by
Jacob Francis Mandana when he was
investigating the effects of the wave on
communications. The wave intercepts
communications and mixes them with other
radio waves usually from mobile phones
causing all signals to be lost.

Secondly you get the Liberatus pulse


named after the Latin for ‘Freeman’ due to
its effects. The pulse has to effects firstly
allowing compass to go free and point
wherever instead of north this works with all
navigating systems. Then the second effect
this only works when you get real close
maybe within 20 meters you get what they
call ‘monkeydoo’ syndrome which makes
you act like a crazy monkey doing
everything from making weird noises to
throwing your own Feces at people. Most of
the people who get affected are ‘put down’
like animals but the unlucky some get put in
cages and tested on to see if the scientists
can find out more about the under-door.

There are a few others but I can’t remember


what they are, I’ve been in here for too long
I can hardly remember anything I didn’t
write down in my diary. Anyway back to my
story where was I, oh yeah I’d just escaped
from Stalinski.
Chapter 5 – The Slightly less great escape

‘I must be mad, all the great capitalist


nations hiding an island from us?? Crazy’
exert from diary

So there I sat reading through the pages


and until about five am when I fell asleep I
was intrigued. When I woke up I found that
id been using the pages as a pillow and
kept on reading until I heard another bad
thing, Knock, Knock, Knock.

I walked over to the door and gazed through


the peep hole, there stood the hooded man
and in his hand a gun. I jumped back
accidently standing on a creaky floorboard I
turned quickly eyeing the room. There was
only one door and he was outside it. I ran to
my window, thinking my chances, ether I get
shot by him or I jump four stories and can
crawl away. I opened the window luckily for
me it was big enough for me to fit through if
I wanted to and there was a thin ledge
above and below it tracing the house. As I
looked through I saw that one of my
neighbors had an open window, BANG, the
smacking on the door was getting louder, I
think he’d stopped trying to knock and had
decided to just knock it down. I carefully got
out of my window putting my feet firmly on
the thin path, I was trembling making the
whole ordeal so much harder id just gotten
onto the two thin ledges when my door fell
down and standing behind it was the
hooded man. Well, you couldn’t really call
him that anymore all the smacking had
made his hood fall down, he was a clean
shaven Russian man with medium length
hair that was parted in the middle he had a
scar along his left cheek and another small
one by his nose. He wore a grey and purple
hoody with blue jeans and black and white
all stars in his hand a revolver. The shock of
his site made me trip and that was when my
guardian angel came. I started to fall
grabbing the air as I fell the man ran to the
window as I fell, one story, two, stop. I was
startled id stopped falling something was
holding me and pulling me inside a room,
dreading who I looked around and to my
surprise I saw one of my neighbors Jerry.
Jerry was a five foot eight tall man who was
very strong despite a bit of flab around the
belly. He had a jolly face and usually used it
to laugh. ‘Ray ma boy, what are you doing
falling down ya window?’ Jerry explained in
a jolly yet confused manner, I was
stuttering, not fully aware that I was alive
and at that in a neighbor’s house I darted to
the window starring out seeing if my body
was on the ground and if the Russian man
was watching me, no signs of him, relief at
last. I took in a breath and looked back at
jerry, ‘it’s a very long story’ I exclaimed, ‘Il
put the kettle on then’ jerry replied in a
humorous manner as if not fully
understanding the seriousness of my
problem. Then again I heard it, Bang, Bang,
Bang, he was at the door. My blood levels
went from relaxed at last to Armageddon is
here. As jerry walked to the door I darted for
him grabbing his hand first, ‘Tell him I’m not
here, tell him I was never here’ I said quickly
as if the words were having a race to get out
of my mouth, ‘ What? Speak English not
gibberish boy!’ ‘Don’t open the door’ I
replied calmly panting as I said it. ‘Erm, go
and sit down, have a biscuit and some tea,
i'll just answer this’ ‘NO!’ I yelled not
realizing that I’d just made it obvious I was
inside ‘please’ Jerry moved his hand away
from the door knob, ‘follow me’ jerry said his
voice changing from the jolly man I knew to
a dead serious tone as if he’d changed
person. ‘Just a minute’ he gracefully yelled
through the door, as he took me to his
room. ‘Here, lay low I’ll say you’re not here,
then you explain’ I nodded as if he finally
got it, he then left the room, opened the
door and started talking, the other man had
a strong Russian accent and showed almost
no emotion. After about five minutes the
man left and jerry shut the door walking
back into the room, ‘right, explain’ and so I
explained everything that happened, the
man, the diary and that’s when I realized, I’d
left the diary. I darted up to my apartment
stared inside, it looked like the result of a
small nuclear war, the man had obviously
searched it and sure enough the diary was
gone.

It’s a funny feeling when you lose something


that you know is crucial for your future as if
someone has given you a hand and you’ve
just walked right past it. Anyway, as I was
saying, I looked around to see any traces of
where he might have gone, as I searched I
found a note that had been beautifully
handwritten it said

“Dear Mr. Brown,


It has come to my
attention that you have been investigating
the death of a Mr. Larry Edward Fisher and
recently into the island of Bermuanda. My
organization has been attempting to find
this island for many years and you stealing
the clue to its location was not a positive
event. However due to your seeming
knowledge and understanding of the diary
we will give you an opportunity, If you wish
to fully understand the death of your friend
Mr. Fisher then I welcome you to meet with
an accomplice of my organization tomorrow
at the Car-park Outside Langtree DerviS
don’T be late. I dislike those whO Refuse to
Attend Great mEetings of ours. We will be
there at five o’clock sharp

Regards,
the Locator’

First looks make it look like a normal letter


with some spelling errors but what if I told
you those capitals spell C-O-L-D-S-T-O-R
A-G-E. Now I didn’t then and I don’t now
know why he made the real location hidden
but I figure its incase someone else got the
letter and yes if you were thinking ‘Is he
going to attend this meeting?’ yes I did.
Chapter 6 – An ‘opportunity’

Well I’m not a man to miss an opportunity


and anything to help me put down my story,
right? But I figure that if I knew I’d end up
here I might not have attended. Anyway, so
the next day I got up, got dressed walked
downstairs to my car, in case any car nuts
are here it wasn’t anything grand like a
Ferrari or an Astin martin it was a second
hand Mitsubishi lancer that I got in an
auction for thirty eight thousand dollars
when I still had a job. Anyway I drove to the
cold storage and waited until five and as
claimed at five the Russian man walked into
the cold storage and started pacing the
isle’s. For a few minutes I watched him but
eventually he saw me and walked up to me
‘Come Comrade’ he said in a deep Russian
accent, he was now wearing a Black suit
with a white undershirt and a black tie. He
had a gun holster still with his revolver
under his shirt. He took out his phone, like
his suit it was black and as he selected a
contact he began speaking in Russian. He
started walking out signaling me to follow I
did and as I walked out he began being a lot
more caucus about his location checking
corners, constantly checking his back and
making sure I was following and when we
got to his car he turned off his phone and
looked at me. ‘Comrade, now that you are in
this you are in the same danger as
Comrade Fisher and so like Comrade
Fisher you will need protection, however
instead of me watching over you we have
decided a more hands on approach’ the
Russian man then took out a briefcase from
the car and put it on the bonnet, it was lined
with black leather and had a three digit code
panel either side of the handle as eh
opened it I immediately realized what he
meant by a more ‘hands on’ approach.
Inside the briefcase were two pistols, a
revolver, a grenade, two ammunition clips
and a holster, ‘ Pick away comrade’ he said
as he gave me the holster I starred at the
weapons before me questioning why I
came, but as not to anger him and as it was
for my own ‘protection’ I picked up the
handgun on the left, ‘Good choice comrade,
the M1911 .45, an old favorite. Now put on
your holster and take your clips I am about
to take you into a place that doesn’t exist.’

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