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.’