secretsfromsairsburg

[secretsfromsairsburg]

Entry 5,

June 11,

It’s been a minute, journal. I’ve been busy.

Rosa introduced me to what the locals call “The Pit”. With a title that ominous, I knew I had to investigate.

Upon further exploration, “The Pit” seems to be a popular swimming destination. I asked everyone I interacted about it, and they all collaborated the story.

Funny thing is, see, “The Pit” doesn’t come up on any maps. I asked for its real name, but couldn’t get a straight answer. No one wanted to talk about it.

I searched the area on paper maps, Google maps, you name it. There’s no lake, river, or any body of water within a 50-mile radius, according to every source I could find. Sure, it could be just a poorly explored and documented area, but something about it just seems off. And, why build a settlement that’s no where near a body of water?

I’m off to the library tomorrow, to see if I can find anything in depth of the founding of this place.

#cryptid #mystery #cryptidcore #journal

[secretsfromsairsburg]

Entry 4

June 8th,

There's a man on the roof.

While on my way to do some more investigating of the Township General Store (which I unfortunately chickened out upon seeing the sight of the door which crawled and wiggled) I saw a man. He sat atop the roof of Molly's Pies, a bakery that ran along main street. Well, everything in the town that wasn't a house ran along main street, but that's beside the point.

As far as I could tell, the man seemed content laying across the sloped eaves of Molly's. He slumped like a rolling bag of potatoes, or a cat stretched out limply in the sun. This wouldn't be all the noteworthy, except for one thing.

He was completely transparent.

#cryptid #mystery #cryptidcore #journal

[secretsfromsairsburg]

Entry 3

June 7th,

I met a girl today.

Her name is Rosa, she's a tall, athletic girl from the west side of Sairsburg. I'd thought that the west side had all been abandoned, but she just laughed and shrugged. "It's not as lonely when the ghosts are around," she claimed, light and breezy as a summer's day.

I didn't know whether to take her seriously or not. I needed to add a "possible ghost investigation" label to the west side of the town map I'd taped to my wall.

The cicadas have calmed down, for now. My mother had chalked it up to be a freak of nature thing, but the explanation didn't sit right in my stomach. The cicadas had information they wanted to share, desperately. Who listened?

#cryptid #mystery #cryptidcore #journal

[secretsfromsairsburg]

Entry 2

June 6th,

The cicadas echo.

The sing all night, echoing around my empty room like a sound chamber for an orchestra. Sometimes during the night, I think I hear rhythmic beating. Others, the lonely cry of some sort of animal-- I hope.

I didn't get much sleep last night, journal. Every little sound haunted my existence, leaving me sleepless and paranoid. Maybe it's just the new house feeling, considering I've only lived here for a week. Still, the house "settles" an alarming amount.

I asked an old woman on her porch about the "employees only" area at the Township General Store. She inquired why I'd asked, stating nothing was wrong. I filled her in about the flies, the (what I presume to be) blood, but she just laughed and put her finger to her lips, like it was an old secret. I turned to look in the direction of the store, but when I turned back the lady had disappeared without a trace.

It appears to me we have a ghost serial killer on our hands, who does her business in the back of the Township General Store.

#cryptid #mystery #cryptidcore #journal

[secretsfromsairsburg]

Entry 1

June 5th,

There's something seriously wrong with this town.

I hadn't noticed it at first, rolling into the dusty, pioneer-age town of Sairsburg. Too busy being a grumbling, moody teenager to notice the oddities presented right in front of my eyes.

I first noticed that the giant clock never moved. The clocktower, the centerpiece of the whole dirty, shitty town never moved. It's large black dials always hesitated just before four o'clock, forever stuck at three fifty-nine.

Then, it was the general store. Lacking a Walmart or any other chain commodity, I'd ridden my beat up 2006 Pontiac G6 to the general store, hoping to pick up strawberries that were hopelessly out of season. Walking the yellowed, buzzing aisles, I discovered an "employees only". Which would be normal, except for the inexplicable rust-colored stains and inordinate amount of flies that clung to the small window.

I did not get my strawberries.

There's something wrong with this town, and I'm going to find out why.

#cryptid #mystery #cryptidcore #journal