VIDEO BEGINS TRANSCRIBING — — —
“That's one heck of a letter,” Judy lowers the page, “At first I didn’t believe it. For a while I thought one of you was just going for some cruel joke.”
She looks into the camera with a serious face. “It wouldn't be the first time one of my viewers took me on some wild goose chase.”
“But no such luck. All of this had to be real. Anyway, the letter tells me to start with the golden box.” The girl turns around and lifts a small plastic tote into view, placing it on a table just in front of the box chair she had been sitting on. “Now I would call this more yellow than gold, but grandma did always have a flair for the dramatic.”
“Now I haven’t opened this box yet, so this will be a surprise for us both. Actually," Judy pauses for effect, "Jujubees let's play a game, pause the video and leave a comment for what you think will be in the golden box. I'll pin the best guess.”
She gives a second for people to pause, then unclips the tote’s lid.
END TRANSCRIPTION — — —
The first Item out of the box is an old-battered leather-bound diary. It is splotched and dirty, nearly falling apart. A large section of the pages in the beginning of the notebook have been ripped out, leaving nothing more than tiny remnants of the pages close to the spine. The first entries are handwritten with a blue ballpoint pen and read as follows:
March 5, 1985
Today was another quiet day, Gordon promised me he will find a new job soon. Jessica’s teacher sent home a note telling me I should consider some accelerated options for her classes in the future. I am quite proud of her ability in academics, I hope Preston can compare when he begins schooling next year. In other news, I have become quite proficient in crocheting while watching the two of them grow. Preston kept himself busy and quiet all today as well, finally letting me finish the blanket. It looks quite good on the bed, I hope Gordon comes home early enough to appreciate it.
March 6, 1985
I do not know where I am. I am in danger. I am hiding from the green children. I was home and then I was here. I cannot find Preston. I cannot find Jessica. I do not know if I should wish to have left them behind or hope to find them here. Gordon must keep them safe.
March 8? 9? 1985
I do not know how long it has been, I have guessed two days, safety is hard to find. The green demons are everywhere, their red eyes and shrieking keep me awake at all hours. I pray that my children or husband did not follow me here. If they did, I fear they are dead.
I do not know how I came here, or what manner of sin I committed to be tormented so. The green demons travel together in packs, ripping anything that moves to shreds with their sharp teeth and fingers. There are hundreds I think, they are hard to tell apart.
I am lucky. I arrived inside some kind of ruins, surrounded by the green ones. The evil creatures were just as shocked to see me as I was to see them. I was able to bolt out of the room and deeper into these ruins. Wherever this is, it is unexplored by civilized people, if such a grand castle occupied by little green devils had been found, I would have heard of it. I am hiding in some long-forgotten library for now. It has a door. I have blocked that off, and there is no other way in or out that I could find.
March 10?, 1985
Where is this? The books are written in some foreign language, I have never seen anything similar before. Have I been transported so far away from Boston? How?
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March 11? 1985
I found a secret stair today behind an old rotting shelf deep in the back corner of the library! In it, I found salvation!!! Ten jars of honey, about the size of my fist around and two fists high. I will be able to live hidden away here for a little longer.
Alongside the honey was a massive tome, that is truly the best way to describe the book. The thing was as tall as I, sized as if it was meant for a giant. It rested on a stand made just to its size, taking up almost the whole rest of the room. I assume it was hidden away here because it was important. I will start trying to translate this first.
The stairs themselves lead spiraling up and up, it must have been twenty or thirty stories. It was… challenging to ascend. But worth the journey. Attached at the top of the tower was a telescope. Somehow still in perfect condition. It felt odd to the touch, like a balloon that sticks to your hand after you rub it on the carpet. I can watch those green demons in secret from the tower with it.
I also got a good look at the lands around the ruin, I am deep in a forest. It spreads beyond even the telescope's sight. With no civilization in that range. The forest is like nothing I have seen, I recognize none of the trees, not an oak or birch in sight. To reference home, we are not in Kansas anymore, I hope this new land is as kind to me as Oz was for Dorothy.
March 14, 1985
Those little green demons are not as intimidating as my first impression had made them to be. I believe there are close to two hundred of them around this castle, far less than I feared. I am confident in those numbers, despite the difficulty in telling them apart. I have had to take pages and pages of notes, counting and distinguishing the monsters. Escape without notice will still be nigh impossible.
They are, however, much less animalistic than I thought, as they are shockingly proficient at making tools and solving complex problems. If we could communicate, perhaps I could negotiate safe passage.
However, the little green monsters are foolhardy. I have seen nearly ten or twenty of them die each day. When faced with a new problem, be it terrain or creature, the tribal little demons throw bodies at it until they find a solution. More often than not, it results in the group of the critters as well as whatever problem they face being shredded into little pieces. No matter the type of problem, wall or wolf.
Despite all of this death, I have noticed no decline in population. Wherever the new monsters are coming from, they reproduce at an unprecedented rate.
March?, 1985
The green children are closer to human than I had thought. I have spent much of the time in my tower watching them. America had to be taught not to judge the quality of character based on skin, I should do my best to learn such important lessons only once. I have been observing the culture of these creatures. Searching for a weakness. It has not made me feel any safer. They live by the rule of the jungle, the strong survive, the weak are killed off. I do not question what will happen should they learn of my library inside of this ruin. They will fall upon me in a horde, rip me apart, and eat me. Bones and all.
Their chittering and screeches are absolutely a language of sorts, they are highly tribal and territorial. Each group stays in their own areas, with maybe as many as fifty of the critters in each tribe. Fights between tribes are common, quick, and bloody affairs. I wonder if it might be possible to escape by turning the tribes against each other? I must keep in mind, though; my survival depends on expecting more from these green children than I would from beasts in the forests.
I must make a plan soon; my honey is running low. I can feel myself weakening.
Knowledge is truly the only thing I can trust to keep me alive; my hidden library seems to be determined to keep its grasp on that knowledge equally hidden. The tome’s language seems to hold no secrets I can penetrate. I do not claim to be an expert, but it is some script I have never seen before. I have my guesses as to what a few scraps and pages say, but certainty is far beyond me, as is much of the world outside this stone ruin. I have seen things I cannot describe.
March? 1985
Translation is beginning to work. I am either delirious, or I begin to understand. Wherever I am it is nothing like earth, these texts speak as if magic is real. I fear I am going mad. My hope that this may be the key to communication with the green ones is beginning to dwindle. What is written here is beyond them.
I am very, very hungry. The honey ran out days ago.… I wonder If I cannot find another use for these books.
The next thing out of the box is an even older, more weathered page than the diary. The page is massive, it had to be folded into quarters to even fit into the tote, the material nearly disintegrating at the creases as it unfolded. It is covered in a huge diagram, with foreign text scrawled about the page. Each group of text is annotated with the same blue pen as the diary:
image [https://i.imgur.com/3IwKw1Z.jpeg]