Tulip Glasslip here.
If there's at least one thing I pride myself in, that's being honest with my audience.
As a reassuring fact it's not much, but it's about the only thing I still have right now. I would like to keep up that legacy, even if…
All right, let me try to explain the situation before I make an ass out of myself.
My friend has fixed the file I sent them. Apparently it wasn't an audio file at all; well… it was, but it'd been turned into that form its original format as a video file. All it took was to transform it back, which according to them any tech-savvy person would've thought to do considering the damn name ended in .avi.
Anyway, she sent it back and I decided to take a look at it.
I… there is no way to explain what I saw in few words. I'm beside myself, I don't even know if I should write this or… I don't know. I'm not feeling terribly well at the moment.
Still, what the fuck else can I do right now? I'm tired of all this.
Since I can't actually upload the video (showing my physical appearance to the entire world doesn't sound like the best of ideas), I've decided to narrate it for this entry. It'll be slightly different from my previous ones, mostly because I've downed half a bottle of vodka already and I have the remainder here with me as I type, and also because I've decided to have some fun with this. Better to laugh than to cry, am I right?
…Right. As always, narration will be formatted normally while my own thoughts will be in bold and inside brackets. The video takes place the day I went to that bunker in the hills.
Without further ado… here it is:
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The video starts inside the bunker.
The camera moves around the room, momentarily stopping on things that might be of interest, even if most of the floor is covered in dried leaves and dirt. The red text on the bottom right corner of the recording announce that it's seven in the afternoon.
[Strange, since I distinctly remember heading up the hills during the morning as to not get caught up there when night fell.]
Careful steps are taken as Tulip walks from one corner to another, camera pointed at the ground. She stops in front of a table next to the wall and the sound of shuffling papers is heard before she remembers the purpose of having a recording device on her. She points the lens at the small bundle of papers as she picks one up and examines it. Glare makes it difficult to make out the words, though it seems as if the ink has mostly been washed away in the past months.
"God dammit. Should've figured."
She slams the papers on the table and turns the camera around in a sweeping motion, catching the rest of the room leading to the door with the electronic lock. It stops at the side for a moment, abruptly.
There's a small gasp, more like a slightly sharp exhalation. Tulip hurries over to the left corner of the room, leaves crunching under her shoes. Judging by the jerky camera movement she probably kneels, filming what she's found a moment after: under a small bundle of leaves and dirt lays a leather-bound journal that she picks up and shakes as to clean it off.
The camera is placed on the ground for a moment while the sound of pages being quickly turned fills the room. Tulip whispers something to herself and lets out a hushed laugh, pushing herself to her feet along with the camera.
Steps, heavier and more enthusiastic than before, are heard. She grabs the only nearby chair and places it in front of the table as she sits on it. She adjusts the camera in the corner facing her, so that most of her body can be seen with the exception of her feet and the top of her head. She's wearing a plain, white blouse and jean shorts. Her thin metal bracelets tinkle with a metallic sound as she opens the journal and begins to read.
[This is the part where I stopped the video the first time I watched it.
I assume some of you are wondering why I described my own outfit, thinking back to my statement about not wanting to reveal my appearance. Well, there's no danger in this specific instance. Why?
Because I don't own any clothes that look like what I'm wearing in this video.
I hate sleeveless shirts, I despise bracelets and I'm not a huge fan of shorts either. And yet here I am, wearing them in a video I don't remember filming, not looking uncomfortable at all.
I went back to check whether I had anything like this in my drawers, but I only found my usual clothes.]
Tulip reads through the pages for what should be five minutes, but isn't. At some point after reaching the mid-way point she lowers the journal down, yawns and rubs her eyelids. Then the video freezes.
Only to un-freeze two seconds after. Tulip opens her eyes, shakes her head sheepishly and goes back to reading. However, the room has suddenly turned a lot darker and the clock of the camera indicates that it's now 9:13 PM. Two hours have passed, and yet Tulip doesn't seem to notice at all.
She keeps reading for about ten minutes, until she turns one of the pages and her expression changes. She lowers one hand to the table and pulls the journal closer, eyebrows knit. She silently whispers something and stands up as if pushed by a spring, grabbing both the journal and the camera as she makes her way to the other side of the room.
She stops in front of the door, her fingers tapping the side of the camera creating a pitter-patter of excitement and anxiety; a sound quite common to her. Before inputting the password she looks down at the open journal one last time; though she unfortunately doesn't film it. The panel lets out an electronic beep as the screen turns a bright green.
A second after, the door opens.
[I have the journal next to me. I looked through every page again and tried to find anything that could've looked like a password to past-me.
Nothing.]
The tunnel that it opens to is as dark as an Arcanine's maw. Tulip hesitates for about five seconds, only remembering then that the camera has a built-in flashlight and turns it on. It's a lot easier to see now; even if the cone of light doesn't reach to the part where the tunnel ends. The walls are made of excavated rock; not any kind of concrete or building material, which means it's probably an unfinished mining project of some sort.
Either Tulip doesn't come to the same conclusion or she does and decides to go in anyway.
[Knowing me it could very well be both; though I'd put my money on the more idiotic option.]
Strangely, the door does not ominously close behind her as she keeps walking. The hallway is somewhat cramped; about the width of two average adults, but it seems competently dig out considering no part of it has caved in yet. It is awfully dark, however, and what little light the flashlight offers can only reveal a small cone in front of her.
Judging by the delicate steps and heavy breathing coming from Tulip, one could arrive to the conclusion that she's regretting not buying the camera that came with night vision, even if it was only marginally more expensive than the one she has now. Then again, this is all wild speculation on anyone's part.
It is hard to notice at first, but judging by the way the light hits part of the ceiling at the end of its trajectory it's safe to assume that the hallway is tilted down. Dirt and pebbles make a rough sound as they're unearthed by Tulip's steps, rolling down alongside her. The only color besides faded brown is the occasional green of the grass stubbles growing from the floor and walls. They become more prominent as time passes.
"Come on, give me something."
It's been a few minutes now and Tulip starts to sound exasperated. The tunnel has been nothing but a straight line of emptiness. It's clear from her low whines of discomfort that having to keep the camera up to use the flashlight is taking a toll on her arm. She changes it from one hand to the other a few times, until finally her patience comes to a limit and she simply lets the camera hang as she points it slightly up.
The footage jumps. It's supposedly two hours later, though Tulip doesn't sound nearly as exhausted as if she had to walk for that long without stopping. At first it seems nothing has changed; the tunnel still points forward and nothing but darkness can be seen ahead. However, after almost a minute, Tulip stops.
She swallows hard as she fumbles with the camera, raising it to chest level and pointing it forward. There is a wall of rocks a few feet ahead; probably the result of some kind of cave-in. As she steps closer two alternate paths can be seen at the left and right. Judging by the indentations in the ceiling, it seems like there used to be a third one forward as well.
[I have no way of knowing, thanks to the footage skipping, but it is possible that the rockslide is the result of the destruction of the lighthouse outside of Wysteria. The direction of the tunnel makes it likely.]
She shines the light at both paths, which stretch infinitely in a straight line. Tulip stands in the crossroads, breathing heavily for a few moments. Uncertainty pesters her every movement like a heavy cloud of smoke standing around her. One would think she should've learned how to deal with hard decisions by now.
"Right or left…." she whispers. "Right or left, twain and cleft. Heaviest cuffs, blue-est flames. Iron rots and fire fades, time to choose for this young maid ."
It's only part of an old nursery rhyme, one that Tulip often chants to herself under her breath during stressful situations. It is unfortunate, then, that she does not possess her mother's singing voice. Coming from her, the verses are strained and only half-sung. The recording shakes slightly.
"…you're no fun, mister tunnel," she sighs. "Fine, let's go freaking left I guess."
[I want to physically enter the video and punch myself in the face.
No, I didn't notice anything strange. That's it.]
The results of her choice start to bloom a lot earlier than she probably expected. While the hallway is as dark as the one before, Tulip encounters a few odd things thrown in the floor here and there.
First it's a torn piece of cloth, no bigger than the palm of her hand. She bends down to pick it up and films it, while rubbing the dirt off with her thumb. One side of it is white, while the other one is a soft, almost faded green. Other than that it would be difficult to determine what it belonged to. Tulip saves it in the pocket of her shorts before continuing forward.
She finds a few more things thrown around. Part of a paper handkerchief, a piece of thin, red metal the size of her thumb, half a shoelace and what at first appears to be some kind of Pokemon bone, later identified as the rotten core of an apple. None of these she decides to take with her, only allowing the objects a glance with the camera before walking past them.
The walls start to change. They widen up with every step Tulip takes, allowing for some breathing room that wasn't there before. All stubbles or roots disappear along with the small piles of dirt occasionally found at the sides. In some places the rock almost seems polished.
Tulip stops for about five seconds. She holds her breath, then continues as if nothing had happened. This repeats a few times before she stops for good and stands still for almost a minute.
"…Wind?"
Indeed, the camera picks up the distant sound of a gust of wind. Extremely faint, but it's there.
Tulip's pace quickens, her steps sounding rather hopeful against the hard surface of the floor. The light of the camera swivels from side to side and though she runs across a few more objects she doesn't pay much attention to them.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
[I do, since I have to do everything around here it seems.
They are, in order: a round tuft of felt with cotton inside, a jagged piece of metal not much thicker than a needle, more rotten cores of fruits and a dark, reddish mark on the floor with a few similar dots coming out of it.
At first I thought it was a blood splatter, though now I'm not sure. The red is a bit too bright.]
The sound of the wind becomes more noticeable as Tulip keeps walking. The walls have stopped expanding and are now wide enough to accommodate at least five people. She tries to keep the camera steady as she goes, though either because of carelessness or excitement it continues to shake in a way that makes it impossible to discern what's ahead.
A gasp is heard behind Tulip, so faint and thin she doesn't notice it.
[I've re-winded and listened to it at least fifty times.
It's definitely not the wind, nor does it come from me. It's slightly higher pitched, probably belonging to a woman. It's there for about a second before it disappears.]
Tulip reaches what appears to be the end of the path. Growing from one end of the wall to the other is a thick sheet of steel with a hole the size of a person torn apart in the middle. The metal is bent outwards, jagged tips almost looking like teeth. In the floor in front of it lays what probably used to be the door, made of the same material.
Tulip extends her hand forward, placing her thumb against the jagged edges of the hole. They are terribly rusted, much more than the rest of the wall, and stuck to one of them is another piece of white and green fabric. It waves slightly with the wind. She picks it up and stares at it.
She coughs twice. Then, breathing in deep, she walks towards the left wall and presses her palm strongly against it, as if leaning into it. Her fingers curl and uncurl, coating themselves with dust and dirt. The touch must feel reassuring, calming almost. Her breathing slowly goes back to normal. She saves the piece of fabric in her pocket once more, cleans her hand on her shirt and points the camera forward.
"All right, c-come on," she whispers harshly. "You know where the exit is. Just go– just keep going."
Judging from the movements of the camera she must crouch to enter. It's slow going and she probably rubs a limb against one of the sharp edges, judging by the volley of swear words she lets out at a certain point. When she comes out the other side, it takes her a few seconds to gather her wits and raise the camera.
She's not in a cave anymore and, strangest of all, there is a source of light.
It is a fully built room, about twice as wide as the cavern. The floor and walls are covered in square, used to be white tiles similar to those used in old communal bathrooms. The roof appears to be concrete. There is a caged light bulb stuck to the left wall, failing to illuminate much past a few feet around.
"What the hell…"
Tulip simply swings the camera around, not wanting to move yet. In front of her the hallway continues towards another, almost identical metal wall with its door similarly torn apart, leading towards a dark corridor. At her right is the rest of the room, every inch of it covered in dirt, filth and grime.
At the right side of the furthermost wall there's what appears to be a row of showers, separated by squares of concrete that fail to reach the ceiling. The piping and shower-heads have been eaten away at, a few even decorating the floor. There are two sinks on the right wall, one of them broken into small, ceramic pieces. A puddle of water lays underneath.
Tulip hesitates for a moment, moving the camera to point at the filthy tiles of the wall next to her. She stares, then lets out a laugh.
"Not touching this one."
The camera swerves right as she walks to the other side of the room. Every step makes a sticky, sloshing sound as if the floor were wet.
There isn't much more to the room, it seems, until she points the camera at the only corner she hasn't looked at yet. A paper sign is stuck to a spot close to one of the sinks, its edges eaten away by some reddish-brown substance. The lower half of it is missing, though it seems possible to read the rest.
Tulip stops in front of it and films the sign for almost an entire minute, slowly whispering to herself. It reads as such:
Welcome to the F-Branch of the Underground Living Quarters.
If you are coming in, simply walk through the hallway and approach the first agent you see. They will be able to take you to your new rooms and answer any question you might have. If you wish to clean yourself from the long trip through the hills then feel free to use one of the chemical showers as long as they're not currently in use.
If you are leaving the quarters, carefully follow these instructions:
1) For physical de-contamination: use one of the chemical showers and wash yourself thoroughly from tip to toe. If there is any red substance on you; please contact an agent immediately and try not to touch anything. If not, dry yourself off with the provided towels and change into the new clothes that will be given to you.
2) For mental de-contamination: you don't need to do anything, simply let Subject #282 cleanse you out of your inner impurities. There is no need to search for her; she will find you no matter where you are. However, under no circumstance should you attempt to leave while t–
That's where the text cuts off. Tulip is, understandably, not happy about it.
"Oh give me a break."
She sighs and turns the camera around, panning the entire room in its sweep. She stands still for almost a minute, breathing in and out as her free hand noticeably fidgets with the fabric of her blouse. She probably doesn't notice how obvious she outwardly shows her fear.
"Living quarters. Living quarters…" she whispers, gulping. "Well, the bathroom's already better than the one in the hotel, so…"
Her laugh feels weak against the overwhelming emptiness of everything around her. She fidgets more, takes one look back at the dirty sign and decides to continue further. The distant sound of rushing water and wind are heard as she makes her way towards the hole in the other metal wall; this one bigger and seemingly more violently ripped out. The cuts on the wall are surprisingly clean-made, if brutal.
When she emerges on the other side, it's not to a cave. The floor, walls and ceiling form a perfect rectangle of concrete. Professionally built, from the looks of it.
She takes one step forward, freezes, then gasps and turns around fast enough for the footage to turn into a blur.
"W-who is there!?"
Through the hole part of the previous room can be seen. Nothing answers her question. Tulip sounds as if she's struggling to breathe.
[I've listened a few times and I can't make out any sound that would've made me react that way.]
It takes her almost a minute to calm down. She must come to the conclusion that she's imagined whatever she heard, because she lowers the camera for a moment, moves it to her left hand, and turns around.
There's someone in the hallway. The footage freezes, then repeats itself a few times from the moment she turns the camera until it lands on… it. This goes on for about four seconds.
Then it resumes with the timer five seconds re-winded. Tulip turns around as she did before, except this time the hallway is empty. She heads forward as if nothing had happened.
[The light of the camera only hits up to the waist of whatever that was. At first I thought it looked like the hooded stranger on the picture documented in #Entry 4, but this looks more like some kind of creature or Pokemon, judging by the thin, white legs and delicate frame.]
Darkness pools at the edges of the camera as the contents of the hallway are revealed. A row of fluorescent light bulbs hang from the ceiling, none of them in working conditions. After almost a minute of walking she finds two normal, wooden doors, facing each other. They are locked.
Tulip points the light at the keyhole, which means the camera itself is left filming nothing. She struggles to line herself up to see through it, judging by the grunts and curses she lets out, and ultimately seems to come up with nothing.
"All right, let's see here…"
She holds the camera between her arm and ribs while her hands fumble with what sounds like her hair. As she moves back into place a white hairpin can be seen on her left hand. This time she puts it between her elbows, light pointing at the keyhole. A few seconds pass in silence.
Except they don't, because it's the footage freezing again. It stays as such for twenty-three seconds, then resumes playing.
Tulip lets out a sound like a choking Victreebel. The camera moves upwards, followed by a heavy thump as her head connects with a solid object –possibly the doorknob– and she falls backwards. The footage turns black as Tulip is heard gasping for air and trying to get to her feet.
"Who are you!?"
Silence. Everything is black.
"What did you say!?"
Tulip struggles to breathe in between coughs, and after a few moments bends down to pick up the camera. It's an incomprehensible blur of light and colors until she manages to keep it steady, pointing forward.
It's hard to see, but there is someone at the end of the cone of light. Only its feet can be seen, as white and thin as the figure that previously appeared on the footage. It makes no movement. The camera shakes violently.
"I d-don't understand…" Tulip says, barely above a whisper. "What are you saying?"
From her frightened tone and the near sound of shuffling, it's easy to come to the conclusion that Tulip is buying time while looking for something on her pockets. Finally she finds it and lowers her free hand. The sound of steel sliding against steel is heard; her pocket knife.
"Stop talking! I don't understand you!"
She stabs the air with the knife as she yells, voice broken and high pitched. She takes a few steps back, tentatively.
[I can't hear anything besides myself yelling. Whatever this Tulip is hearing, it's not in the video.]
The figure approaches slowly. It wouldn't be right to say that it walks, as its stick-like feet never touch the ground and nor does its clothing. Its entire body comes into view. Tulip lets out a choked sob.
The creature is humanoid-looking, skin as white as marble and its lower half almost entirely covered by what appears to be a flowing gown. Its legs and arms are as thin as sticks. Its green, disheveled and dirty hair curls down the middle of its face and down at the sides of its head, showing only its dark red eyes. They're at least twice as big as those of a human, with heavy shadows adorning their underside. There's a red, jagged protrusion coming out of its chest, making it look as if the creature has been stabbed in the heart.
It continues to float towards Tulip, slowly enough that it becomes apparent that the creature isn't quite right. What appears to be the fold of its gown is torn apart in various places, the tips of its feet are filthy with some kind of red substance and its ribs can be seen through the little flesh it has on its chest.
"S-stop…" Tulip pleads, low enough that the microphone of the camera barely picks it up. "I don't… I don't want to hear you. Please…"
She lets the knife drop to the ground and frantically starts looking for something else in her pocket. When she looks up again a round object can be seen on her left hand, its top half painted a bright red.
"Go away! I'm gonna…"
The creature raises its arm slowly, as if doing so took an incredible amount of effort. It points at Tulip with one of its thin, boney fingers and then opens all three, showing her its palm. The gesture almost seems desperate and pleading.
"STOP SINGING!"
The audio heavily distorts as Tulip screams at the top of her lungs. A moment after we see her hand flying forward as she throws the Pokeball at the creature. It hits it square in the chest, turning it into light and trapping it inside.
Tulip doesn't wait to check if the creature is caught. She turns around and runs in the opposite direction, the pitter-patter of her feet against the ground almost covering the sound of her heavy breathing and coughing. The footage shakes uncontrollably and it's almost impossible to make out the Pokeball breaking behind her. Another gust of wind hits her back.
The sound of cloth sliding against concrete crawls closer. It's delicate, almost like a whisper.
The light briefly catches the torn metal hole in the distance, leading towards the de-contamination area. Tulip quickens her pace, almost panting now, but stops a few feet from reaching it.
A pale, pink light explodes in front of her, blinding the camera from a moment. The creature now blocks the entrance, eyes still empty and arms resting at its side. It tilts its head to the side. Curious. Playful. Begging.
Tulip bellows –whether in anger or horror is unclear–, distorting the audio to a garbled mess. The footage jumps for a moment and next she is seen in front of the creature, both arms violently pushing it to the side. It crashes against the wall, possibly breaking a bone judging by the crack following the impact, along with the low yelp of pain. Tulip doesn't wait to jump inside the room.
Her feet slide on the wet floor. She barely catches herself with her free hand against a wall, taking a single moment to breathe and compose herself. The sound of wind and cloth against stone comes back, this time more aggressive. There is an implicit warning in its humming tone, one that Tulip disregards completely.
She has to go slowly, but she manages to reach the opposite side of the room without falling again. The sounds of the creature disappear as she stands in front of the makeshift hole. It waits for her to act, to make the right choice.
She does not, unfortunately. With desperate hurry she passes through the hole, accidentally cutting herself on one of the jagged edges with her free hand. She makes it to the other side, breathes in for a moment, and breaks into a desperate run.
There's a pause. Tulip stops completely, her limbs frozen. She is yanked back violently, what little can be seen of her surrounded by a pink-ish glow. Her body hits the ground with a loud thump, followed by the same happening to the camera. The footage shakes and darkens, only to come back a moment after.
The camera lies on the floor, pointing backwards. Its light briefly hits Tulip's face along with one of her arms and part of her torso.
Her chin rests on the ground, hair obstructing most of her face. Her entire body is surrounded by wisps of pink light. She has one hand forward, fingers desperately trying to grip the out of reach camera. Her eyes are wide open, wet with tears.
The sound of cloth against stone is heard once more, but this time it's simply Tulip being dragged backwards by an invisible force. She screams at the top of her lungs, kicking and planting her fingers on the ground, to no avail. Slowly, she disappears from view. The light of the camera reaches nothing but the empty cavern.
The sound is muted, cutting short Tulip's distant screams. The video freezes again, then everything goes black.
The footage resumes ten seconds later.
The camera is placed on top of a wooden table, overlooking the inside of a busy restaurant or café. The place is packed-full of people. The clock on the downright corner marks it as fifteen minutes after what has just happened.
Whoever is filming lowers a cup of coffee to the ceramic plate. There's a pause. Tulip's voice is heard:
"Oh shit, is this still recording?"
She picks up the camera and points it at herself. She's wearing different clothes from the previous footage and her expression is nothing if not relaxed. She looks as if nothing had happened.
Her eyes fall on the red light indicating that the camera is still recording. She smiles and shakes her head slightly, raising her other hand towards the device.
The footage stops. End of video.
[I don't really have anything else to say. I don't know what to say.
The clothes I'm wearing, the footage skipping, that creature and then me acting as if it had never happened… I can't make sense of any of it. I'm more scared and confused as if I'd never learned what had happened. What of the tunnel? What of the remaining nine days after that?
I don't think I can deal with this right now. I'm tired of all of it; I wish I could make sense of… anything, or just find some answers.
I don't know what to do. I just don't know.
I'm sorry.]
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Tulip Glasslip here.
It's been a few days since my… transcript of that video. I apologize for my unprofessional behavior, I know most of you aren't interested in my wellbeing or what I think of all of this; you just want answers like me.
Fortunately, I might have some to offer in the near future.
I've received an email from Pruner. They've asked to meet in a nearby tea house which will be full of people so I won't have anything to fear. They say that they know where I am and it wouldn't make a difference if I decide to run. They say… that they just want to talk.
They sounded a lot more rational than I expected. Almost desperate, even, which I found amusing after how much they've been leading me by the nose.
I doubt I have anything left to lose, so I agreed to this meeting. I'm tired of running around; whatever happens, it will happen.
Until then, I must say goodbye.
Tulip Glasslip.