All of Our Mistakes Are Never Forgotten(StarlessandBibleBlack)PART-1

As much as I despise having to type this, I've since come to terms with my wife's ndBibleBlack)suggestion. When I first told her of my assignment in the Arctic, she refused to let me leave. With time, she came to accept it, under one condition of course. She wanted me to keep this log while I'm out there. If I'm going to be stuck with a bunch of guys in an outpost for one month for what she calls 'a total sausage fest', she wants me to have something I can share my feelings with. She's convinced that none of my fellow employees will be open for any personal discussion, and that bottling up my feelings will cause me to have a mental breakdown. I can be alone for weeks and not be bothered one bit, but there's no convincing her of that. Any effort I put forth at this point would be fruitless.

I apologize for the long explanation, but that's just how I am. If I end up going off on some tangent, hope that I catch myself before writing pages of irrelevant information. Wait a minute, why am I writing like this, like someone is going to read this? I hope no one ever reads this load of trash. I'm just keeping my promise to my wife so she can stay happy. If anyone ever does read this, I hope they enjoy the ramblings of a blind man.

As I was saying, I'm writing this journal while I'm on my arctic assignment. Actually, let's call it an expedition. That makes it sound a little more exciting. This 'expedition' was put together by the company that I work for called Hornbeck Offshore. We specialize in machines called ROVs, which stands for remotely-operated vehicle. They're mainly used in the oil field for servicing rigs, vessels, whatever the client pays us for. However, we were recently rented out by a division of the federal government for some observation under the arctic ice. I can't remember which agency it is, since I had fallen asleep during the meeting. All I know is that I need to go with the team because I'm one of the most experienced machinists. Apparently, I'm going to have my own shop adjacent to the main building. I have no clue how much that costs them build, but the government is going to pay for everything, so I don't really care.

Oh, there's a knock at my door. I guess we're finally ready to catch our shuttle to the airport. It's going to be a roughly nineteen-hour flight, so I'm going to bring a bottle of NyQuil. I can hardly stand some of these people in the office. I can only imagine what a pleasure they'll be in the confined cabin of an airplane.

I'm taking one last look over the shop from my office window. Everyone's left already, and I've just been killing time at my computer. I better turn off all the lights so my boss doesn't fire me for running up the electric bill.

I'll try to update this every few days, but no promises. Apparently one of our employees has an external hard drive full of movies, so this excursion may not be as miserable as I originally anticipated.

Day 2

As I had been hoping, I slept through almost the entire flight yesterday. As soon as the plane took off, I took my NyQuil and waited for it to put me out. Before I fell asleep, I had someone sit in the vacant seat next to me. I was so tempted to ask him to move but decided to keep my mouth shut. If I managed to piss this guy off, I would still be stuck in the same building as him for the next month. That wouldn't end well.

I remember him shaking my hand and introducing himself, but I can't remember what he said his name was. By that time, I was half-asleep and not really paying much attention. He remained silent after that but didn't change seats. I feel asleep with my head against the window and pressure building in my ears.

When I finally woke up, I let out a long yawn and popped the pressure that built up in my head. I had forgotten to take the decongestant my wife bought me, but it wasn't that bad compared to what had occurred on the flight while I slept. Apparently, one of the computer technicians had too much to drink and ended up vomiting all over the bathroom. It got cleaned up, but still took both flight attendants to do so. As I left my set to use the bathroom, I passed the drunk man. He had been placed in his seat and had the seatbelt pulled tight. I guess either the flight attendants or some of my coworkers had restrained him. No matter who did it, I was thankful. I also prayed that he wouldn't continue with this behavior when we got to the base camp.

I remained awake for the remainder of the flight, which was only about an hour. I occupied my time by catching up with the news on my laptop. Luckily, my company hadn't been cheap and booked us a plane with Wi-Fi. Although the base was supposed to have internet access half the time at best, it didn't really bother me. I vaguely remember my boss saying that the signal was infamous for dropping out at random times.

The plane touched down rather roughly. The Jeep I drove back home was far worse. I stretched and grabbed my bag from under the seat in front of me, following my fellow employees outside. The wind struck me first, causing me to grab the brim of my hat. As I descended the stairs, I had to keep my eyes narrowed to slits to avoid the stinging pain. Once my feet finally touched solid ground, or possibly solid ice, I set down my bag and placed my hand over my eyes.

Nothing but white… I don't know why I was surprised. I acted as if I had expected to see rolling plains or grassy hills. Instead, I was met with a barren white landscape as far as the eye could see. Of course, there was a small one-story building a short distance off. A radar dish barely taller than the roofline stood next to it on a rusty steel structure. I felt pity for whoever had to work that miserable place.

"Alright everyone, I need you in groups of three for the ride over to the basecamp," I heard my boss call. He stood in front of all of us with a clipboard in his hand. Everyone refused to move, instead standing in silence and pulling their parkas tighter around their bodies.

"Don't just stand there. I didn't get paid an extra thirty percent of my salary to stand here freezing my balls off while you assholes stand around like penguins. Move!"

He shouted the last word, causing everyone to scramble into groups of three. By the time I had picked up my bag, there was only one group left that had two people. As I walked over to join them, I recognized one of them as the man who sat next to me on the flight. Joining them, he looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with me.

"Hey man, it's you! Did you get enough sleep?" he asked with a tone that seemed unnaturally joyous. I hadn't noticed it the night before, but he spoke with a thick country accent.

"Yeah," I replied hesitantly. "I got plenty. I'll need it for the big day that we have ahead of us."

He smiled and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"You seemed like you slept hard. I had to switch seats because you kept leaning over on me."

I scratched the back of my head and tried to hide my embarrassment.

"Yeah sorry… I don't stay still when I sleep."

"What did you say your name was again?" The man had flipped his sunglasses down to save his eyes from the harsh sunlight reflecting off the snow.

"John MacReady," I said, extending my hand to shake his. With both of us wearing thick gloves, we were barely able to grasp the other's hands.

"I'm Drake Mason. Now that I think about it, I think I remember seeing your face around the shop when I've been there on occasion."

I smiled, not really knowing how else to respond.

"Alright everyone, grab your belongings and pile into a vehicle. We have another few hours to the basecamp, so get comfortable."

Our respective groups walked over to the snow vehicles that sat in line. They were painted orange but had long faded in the beating sun. The lettering on the side, 'SM100S', had also formed brown spots due to rust.

We all packed into the snow crawlers, which rumbled to life with a plume of smoke from the exhaust. I sat with Drake in the back while someone whose name I didn't know sat up front with the driver.

As we pulled away, I looked out the window towards the small building. There was what looked like a person standing in the open doorway. I don't know how, but this individual seemed to be bent over in the doorway, as if too tall to fit under it normally. Although hardly striking me as dangerous, I was filled me with a sense of unease. As we drove away, the person walked back inside, never breaking his gaze from our departing fleet.

I turned to Drake, looking to see if he had noticed the man as well. He had occupied himself by opening a book. I took it that he hadn't seen the creepy guy, so I decided to not bother bringing it up. It wasn't worth freaking him out over such a small incident. I barely knew him and didn't want my first impression to be that of some rambling lunatic.

The drive to the base wasn't that bad, save for the driver trying to start up a conversation every few minutes. I had never been a big social person, and I sure as hell didn't feel like starting now.

When we finally arrived at the base, I had grown tired once again. Perhaps I had jetlag, or perhaps I was getting a taste of how low my energy was going to be while I was out here. Even though I had gotten plenty of sleep on the flight, I was beginning to feel fatigued.

The vehicles finally came to a halt and we all piled back outside in the cold once more. By this time, the sun had mostly set, leaving the camp illuminated in the glow of floodlights. As my boss talked to everyone, I only nodded my head. I wasn't paying attention to him, the hunger starting to rumble in my stomach or Drake poking me in the side with his elbow to keep me awake. I only fantasized about going to sleep once again. When I heard my boss say something about taking the day off tomorrow to catch up on sleep and rest, I perked up.

I was one of the first people through the door. While everyone else looked around the basecamp in curiosity, I consulted a bulletin board on one of the walls. I quickly found my room number and walked in that direction. Once I entered the room, I shut the door, dropped all my belongings on the floor, and collapsed onto the bed. I didn't bother removing my boots or parka. I simply went limp and let the grasp of slumber engulf me.

I woke up this morning to find that Drake had been assigned as my roommate for the duration of our stay. I'm not going to complain. I'm just lucky that I'm not stuck with the drunk from the plane or that loudmouth from the graphic design office.

After I woke up this morning, I went into the main area of the base. My boss calls it 'the den', so I guess I'll do the same. The den consists of a group of couches around a large television, a pool table, a pinball machine, and some other things I don't really see myself using.

I joined two other men in the kitchen which overlooked the den. They had cooked breakfast and were sitting at one end of a table. They offered me the remaining fried egg and bacon strips, which I happily took. Before sitting down to join them, I scooped some grounds into the coffee maker and turned it on.

Breakfast went better than I had expected. The two men, who introduced themselves as Roger and David, were a pleasure to talk to. Roger is a muscular man who keeps his dirty blonde hair spiked up with a large amount of product. He spoke with a booming voice that could strike fear into anyone. David was a skinny man who kept his long black hair combed back. He spoke with a quiet tone but perked up when we started talking about books. We ended up talking about our favorite authors until around 2 in the afternoon when everyone else began to wake up. We dispersed, saying how we hoped to talk again the next day. Although I had never been big on long conversations, these two were a joy to talk to. I guess this trip will turn out to be decent if I can continue to fight off my usual fear of being social.

And so, that leaves us to where I am now. I'm back in my room typing this up, Drake is on his laptop watching videos whenever they manage to load over the crappy wi-fi. I better get going. The boss just announced over the intercom that dinner was ready. Oh, before I go, I only have one complaint. I forgot until now that I woke up last night to a shout. Apparently, Drake screams in his sleep. I just ignored him and buried my head deep into my pillow. I really hope he doesn't do this all the time. I'm hundreds of miles from a pair of earplugs.

Day 3

Today is the first day that we actually did some real work! I shouldn't exactly be celebrating that, but at least it gives me something to do during the day. I, along with Drake and four other people, boarded a pair of snow crawlers and headed out to our project site. The ride was about forty-five minutes. Compared to the ride from the plane to the base, this one was short. A team had come out here a couple of weeks ahead of us and set up a temporary building near a large hole in the ice. Although the portable shelter was nothing to brag about, it had a heater, and that's all I cared about.

After a quick tour of the facility, we got to work. My job was to monitor the gauges on one of the screens. If the pressure in one the pneumatic arms went out or something like that, it was my job to go out to the ROV when it returned to land and remove the broken piece. We had brought a spare part for everything on the robot. I would place the new part on and fix the busted one when we got back to camp. Luckily, nothing went wrong today, so I mainly sat at a table talking with Drake. He would occasionally have to tend to a software issue with the computers, but it never took long. Overall, the day went by at a decent pace.

By the time we were ready to head back to camp, I had worked up an appetite. One of the team members had forgotten to bring our lunch, so I wasn't too pleased with that. The drive back to base seemed longer than it should have been, mainly due to my stomach only became noisier. As we neared the base, the floodlights turned on to illuminate it. The sun had begun to set while we were at the expedition site, and by now, had almost completely gone down.

As soon as the snow crawler came to a halt, I flung open the door and ran inside. Rounding a corner, I ran through the den and into the kitchen. I yanked open the door to the fridge and grabbed my pre-made sandwich that the asshole had forgotten to pack. I threw the crumpled plastic wrap on the floor, too consumed by my desire to feast to throw it away. I tore the plastic wrap off and devoured it in a few bites. Even after consuming my sandwich, I was still hungry. I joined the rest of the team in the den while our cook prepared dinner. Although the Seinfeld episode currently on had my attention, my nose would get distracted as the smell of cooking meat wafted in my direction.

Soon enough, all of us sat down at the long table in the kitchen and devoured our meal. I sat with Drake, along with Roger, David and a couple of other people I recognized from the expedition today. In between bites of pork roast, we talked about our lives back home and got to know each other a little better. I can't believe I'm saying this but, I'm actually starting to become social. I guess my wife was wrong. Maybe I don't need to keep this log. On the other hand, writing these entries does give me some quiet time to myself. I guess I'll keep writing. Maybe I'll enjoy reading these someday in the future.

After dinner, we gathered in the den to watch a movie. The boss figured that after our first day of work we needed to have a mild celebration. I had thought of turning in to bed early but decided a social activity would do me some good. The employee who brought the external hard drive of movies connected it to his laptop and then plugged that into the television. After scrolling through a list, he clicked a movie and started it up.

He had chosen a movie I remember being in the theaters when I was a kid: John Carpenter's 'The Thing'. For those of you who don't know what the movie is, wait… there I go again, acting as if I have some audience interested in my ramblings. Never mind, I just won't bother correcting myself anymore. As I was saying, 'The Thing' is about a team in the arctic who end up having a shape-shifting alien infect people in the camp. It can take the form of any person, making it almost impossible to tell human from monster.

Halfway through the movie, I got up and went to the kitchen to grab a beer. No one seemed to notice me get up and leave. They all had their faces glued to the screen as a husky began to shift into some ungodly monstrosity. I opened the door to the fridge and found a strawberry ale I thought would be good.

As I turned back to the den, I caught sight of Drake starring out the window to my left. Whatever he was staring at had his full, undivided attention. He didn't so much as blink when I walked past him and sat back down on the couch. I followed his gaze out the window. There was nothing there… All I could see was falling snow illuminated in the pale glow of the floodlights. Shrugging it off as some obscure behavior, I sipped my beer and turned my attention back to the movie.

I don't remember the ending since I dozed off with about half an hour left. I woke up to Drake shaking me, gently calling my name. After rubbing the drowsiness from my eyes, I followed him back into our bedroom. I sat in bed and tried to go to sleep but failed. I'm one of those people where if I fall asleep and wake up, I won't go back to sleep until one in the morning. So, I might as well entertain myself.

Currently, Drake is cursing at his laptop for dropping the internet signal. The poor guy's been trying to send the same email to his wife and kids for an hour. I'm sitting with my laptop, typing these words. I can finally feel myself getting tired, so at least I can go back to bed. It's two in the morning and we have to wake up at eight to head back to the expedition site. Better turn in. I'll need as much sleep as I can get.

Day 5

Yesterday went by a little rough for me. I woke up and went out to the expedition site. I had only gotten six hours of sleep, making me groggy the duration of the workday. Drake kept me company and made conversation as much as he could. I give him kudos for trying to keep me awake. If only I could've put forth as much effort trying to stay awake as he gave trying to keep me from faceplanting onto the table.

Close to the end of the day, the ROV had to be pulled back up to the surface. One of the floatation blocks had come off, causing the vehicle to be pulled back to the surface via its tether cord. Apparently, the pilot had tried to explore a small cavern structure and scraped the block clean off. By the time I had undone the bolts on the frame that once held the flotation block, it was too late to put on a new one and continue working. I was told that by the time the ROV could've flown back to the spot of interest, we would have five minutes before it needed to be turned back around. I relished at the idea of a short work day. I kept my excitement hidden, not wanting my boss to regret his decision.

We all piled into the snow crawlers and headed back towards the base an hour early. After dinner, I played some videogames with Roger and David, then turned in for the night.

Instead of heading out to the expedition site today, I stayed in my shop to craft a new floatation block from the stock we had brought down here. I had never stepped foot in the shop but expected it to be like a much smaller scale of the one back home. Upon opening the door, I was greeted with new machines lining the walls. Although the small shop was one quarter the size of my other one, it had half as many tools. It felt a little more cramped than I would have liked, but I wasn't going to complain.

I spent the day machining a solid block of condensed foam to a set of plans on a nearby table. Apparently, the government had given my company enough money to where they bought a Bluetooth speaker for me to use. As I worked, my playlist of Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Rush, and other such artists played in the background. I took a break for lunch, sitting with David and Roger at the table in the kitchen. They had been brought along to create maps, spreadsheets and other collections of data that the ROV gathered. Whenever we brought back information one day, they would spend the following making sense of it and storing it in a neat and organized manner. I still didn't know what we were doing, and the two of them tried explaining it to me. I failed to comprehend the gibberish that left their mouth. Roger had said something about mapping the ocean floor. David was a marine biologist, so his explanations made even less sense than Roger's.

I finished my lunch and went back out to the shop to finish my work. Spending another hour working away the foam to the smallest detail, I finally finished. I glanced down at my watch to find it was only four in the afternoon. Drake and the team weren't due back for another hour. I grabbed the floatation block along with other supplies to bring with me to the expedition site tomorrow and turned off the shop lights. Stepping out into the cold, I zipped up my parka and dreaded the short walk back to the main base camp.

As I walked through the snow that had fallen overnight, I glanced over at the mountain range that dwarfed our camp. Some members of the team had wanted to take the helicopter up there and ski down, but the boss prohibited it. He had said something about 'our insurance doesn't cover you being a bunch of dumbasses.' He had never been too pleasant back home, but the cold only seemed to irritate him further. That's why I kept my distance.

Suddenly, something on one of the mountains caught my attention. At first, I thought my eyes were playing a trick on me. I used my free hand not holding the floatation block to rub my eyes. I looked at the same spot again to see it was still there.

I couldn't make out the shape too well. All I could see was a tall, slender black shape. Although my guess is rough, I estimate it was at least ten feet tall. It stood still, not moving a single bit. Even while writing this, I find it hard to believe what I saw.

This wasn't like me seeing Bigfoot or some demon. What I saw didn't scare me or make me piss myself on the spot. It just filled me with an overwhelming sense of dread. Even now, I faintly feel its effects fatiguing my body and weakening my mind. I wish I could describe in better detail everything I felt at that moment in time, but I can't. It filled me with trepidation that I have never come close to feeling before.

Drake is asleep now, and I probably should do the same. I locked the door and drew the curtains over the windows a few minutes ago. I keep telling myself that what I saw wasn't something alive, but merely a manmade structure of some sort. Jesus, I should just stop. Working myself into a sleep-deprived fit isn't the answer. I just need to get some rest and think this through.

Day 9

I've come to the conclusion that what I saw was just a figment of my imagination. My wife had warned me that being in an isolated place like this can make a man go mad, but I know I'm not on the brink of insanity or anything like that. What I saw was simply a trick my eyes were playing on me. Nothing more, nothing less. Ever since that day, I've just pushed it to the back of my mind and ignored it. I haven't talked to Drake, Roger, or David about it. There's no point in bothering those poor men with my delusions.

The past few days have gone by without any problems. Drake and I have gone out to the expedition site and sat in the portable building while the ROV does whatever it was rented out to do. Luckily, the only part of it I had to replace so far is a flotation block. Although I'm pleased that I haven't had to replace any parts, the days are boring just sitting in that building. Drake does a good job trying to keep my attention, but I still wish that I was at least back at basecamp watching a movie on the television. When we returned to base camp yesterday, Roger and David were doing their work, but had the television on all day. I'm starting to grow a little envious. They get to have a television, while the only entertainment I have are the strange ice patterns that are forming on the window of that building. I know it's a crazy idea, but I'm tempted to purposefully break a piece of the robot just so I can be in the shop with my music. Even a little music will cure my boredom.

I seem to have forgotten why I started typing this entry to begin with. It wasn't to inform you how I've spent the past few work days in a boredom-fueled daze. Something happened last night. And to answer your questions right off the bat, the answer is no. No one died. Drake just told me something that I still find a little unsettling. He didn't tell me that he was planning on killing everyone in the camp or doing something else dangerous. He didn't act like some stereotypical madman in a horror film. What he said was just unnerving.

As soon as he finished eating dinner, he left the rest of us and went back to our room. I stayed in the den with a few of the others, had a couple of beers and watched 'The Fog'. It must have been around midnight when I finally left the den and came back to our room. When I opened the door, I was met with the sight of Drake staring out the window like the other night. However, this time his face was pressed right up against the glass. Although I was hesitant to get closer to him, I found myself inching forward in his Direction.

"Drake," I asked him, "are you all right?"

He must have been in some kind of deep trance, because when I asked him that question, he immediately turned around and covered his mouth to stop a scream from escaping. His eyes were open wide with fear, and the hands covering his mouth trembled.

"Seriously man, if there's something bothering you, you can tell me."

I was never all that comfortable with people opening up to me, but I felt this time I had to do it. I couldn't have my roommate remaining in a constant state of fear the rest of our time here.

Drake slowly uncovered his mouth, his hands shaking even more violently as he placed them down at his side.

"Y-you… you've seen it, too… haven't you?" He spoke with fear strangling his throat, causing him to choke on every word.

The only response I could muster was letting my mouth hang open and let out of confused sigh. I shook my head and finally found some words to say.

"What in God's name are you talking about? There's nothing out there but snow and ice."

Drake shook his head. His eyes darted back up towards the window. His body shook, and he returned his gaze to me.

"I know you've seen it… I can tell you have…"

At this point, I'd started to become more aggravated than concerned. I turned around and glanced out into the hallway to see if anyone was listening to us. After I was certain that everyone was either asleep or in the den, I shut the door and locked it.

"Alright Drake," I said with a tone of irritation in my voice I wasn't bothering to hide. "You need to tell me what in the living hell you're talking about. Let's just get this over with and get to sleep. What do you mean by it?"

Drake sucked in a deep breath.

"The Shape… I know you've seen it, and I've seen it too."

At that moment, the image of that thing standing on the mountainside pushed to the front of my mind from where I had tried to ignore it. I remembered it as vividly as the day that I saw it. With that image burning in my mind, I also began to feel that sense of dread fill me like it had the first time I saw it.

"How the… how the hell do you know that I saw it? I haven't talked to anyone here about it."

Drake hadn't broken his gaze with me the entire time we were talking. His eyes had gone cold, conveying no emotions to me.

"Because… you're acting just like my grandfather when he saw it."

I widened my eyes with confusion and let out an exaggerated breath.

"Well," I said as I pulled a chair up next to his bed, "I guess we're going to be here a while."

I took my seat and motioned for him to continue.

"You act just like my grandpa when he saw it. What you're seeing is something he called The Shape. I know something with a name like that doesn't sound terrifying at first, but I haven't seen anything terrify a grown man as much as this thing did.

When I was growing up, my grandfather lived with me and my parents. Although his mind was still sharp, his body had long since begun to fail him. My mother thought that putting him into a retirement home would do nothing but strip away his dignity. So, she renovated our old guest room and allowed him to move in with us. He sold his house and used the money to renovate the room. Anything that was left over, he put aside for me in a college fund. After a few months of him living with us, I started to notice that he was constantly looking over his shoulder. He acted as if someone was around every corner waiting to get him."

Drake broke his gaze from the wall and looked into my eyes again.

"Although you're not acting exactly like that, John, you share that same look in your eye that he did. I don't know what else to call it except for a sense of fear that he tried to keep tucked away in the back of his mind, a small bit of it breaking through every once in a while and making itself known."

I didn't respond, not knowing how to. Instead, I simply starred at Drake in silence.

"One day, I finally worked up the courage to ask what was bothering him. He placed a finger over his lips and lead me into his room. He locked the door behind us, putting his ear to it to make sure my parents hadn't followed us. He sat me down on the bed and pulled up a chair next to me. With a stone-cold look on his face that I'd never seen before, he made me swear to never tell my parents what he said. He feared that they would take him away and lock him up in an asylum somewhere. I gave my word and he took a deep breath before starting his story."

"When he was in his twenties, he was drafted into the second World War. He wasn't sent into the heart of the fight, but he was still near some brutal stuff. Although the name of where he was deployed escapes me now, I remember him saying that during the winter, it snowed at least six feet. He stayed with his fellow soldiers in a makeshift tent in a field. The nights were cold and brutal, sometimes two blankets not even being enough to keep him warm. One night, it got so cold that he put on his jacket and went outside to make a run to the supply tent and grab more blankets. The weather outside was well below freezing, but he felt it would be worth it to be warm in bed. As he trudged through the snow towards the supply tent, something out in the distance caught his attention. There was enough moonlight for him to barely make out a shape standing at the edge of the field by the tree line."

"At first, he thought his eyes were playing a trick on him. However, he soon found The Shape slowly starting to move in his direction. He was frozen in fear for a few seconds, but soon found the strength to move and run towards the supply tent. He sprinted to it, throwing open the door and running inside. He slammed it behind him and locked it tight. The officer on duty at the time gave him an extremely confused look rather than one of worry. He asked my grandfather what had him out of breath. He simply replied by pointing towards the window, motioning for the officer to take a look outside. The man walked over to the window and looked out over the field. My grandfather had expected The Shape to be gone, making him look like he was absolutely mad, but it was there."

"The officer told my grandfather that it was now standing close enough to the tent that a spotlight could easily catch it. He darted away from the window and immediately picked up his radio. As he shouted into it, he flicked on the spotlights and illuminated the entire camp. Within less than two minutes, the commanding officer had burst through the door. He pulled my grandfather and the solider on duty aside and questioned them."

"He was never told what happened that night. All he knew was that by morning, three soldiers had gone missing. Although no one at the camp sent out a search party, he recalled seeing Jeeps swarming the surrounding area. He had no idea where they had come from, and they lacked any sort of identification. The vehicles remained there for nearly four days, but nothing came of their activity. They simply left and were never seen again. My grandfather never learned anything more about the missing soldiers or the mysterious search party."

"When he returned home from the war, he told my grandmother of what he saw out in the field that night. For years, he lived his life with her and enjoyed himself. He had gotten a job at a machine shop when he returned home and loved every waking moment of it. It wasn't until ten years later that this incident resurrected itself. It was a cold night in November when he saw The Shape again. It wasn't standing right at his window or in the corner of his room. Instead, it lingered in the back yard at a distance. No matter what time of day it was, the shape was always there. Rain or shine, sleet or snow, it was always there. My grandfather lived in a state of constant fear that it would come in the house one day, but it never did. Every damn day… it just stood there and mocked him."

"He tried doing research at the library to try and find even a shred of information as to what this thing could be. After years of searching, he finally came across one piece of information. It was in some obscure medical journal that had made its way into the library from a mental hospital in Ohio. It had been in a private collection donated to the library. The journal contained the notes of a doctor whose name had long since faded from the cover. Inside, it contained three pages of notes on a patient named Mark Squier. Mark had claimed to see a shape standing outside of his house. It never got any closer but was always there. The Shape soon drove the man insane, causing him to murder his family in a fit of rage and confusion. The jury found him unable to stand trial, thus causing him to be transferred to a mental hospital and into the doctor's care. This doctor noted that Mark could still see The Shape standing outside on the lawn. During the day, it stood on the lawn and looked at his window. During the night, it stood on the lawn and looked at his window. It was always there. After three weeks of Mark being in the hospital, the doctor noted in his journal that Mark may need even more intense care than originally thought."

"Mark had finally opened up more, revealing to them that The Shape had started talking to him. When the doctor asked what it said, Mark simply shook his head and clasped his hands over his mouth. He refused to repeat The Shape's words, stating that it would be upset. After days of talking, the doctor finally convinced Mark to write down what The Shape had said. Mark shook violently as he wrote on a sheet of paper. That piece of paper had been taped inside the journal. Although it had yellowed and faded with age, my grandfather could still make out the one sentence written in scraggly handwriting."

All of our mistakes are never forgotten…

"As they arranged to move Mark into twenty-four-hour care, the nurses found him dead in his cell. Apparently, he had bent the metal leg of his bedpost back and forth until the metal fatigued and snapped. Using the jagged edge of the pipe, he cut a deep gash in his throat and bled out all over the floor. The final note the doctor left about Mark was that he had died sitting against a wall, facing out the window…"

"My grandfather never found anything else about The Shape. He gave up his search, somewhat pleased with the results he had found. That day, he went to the window overlooking the backyard, and it was still there. He had been waiting years to build up enough courage, and he finally felt able to do it. He opened the door to the backyard and stood on the porch. With one deep breath, he shouted at it."

"I'm not afraid of you!"

"At first, The Shape didn't respond, but soon turned towards the woods. It retreated into the trees and vanished from sight. My grandfather couldn't believe it. After all these years, it only took a few words to make it leave. However, it didn't leave for good."

"My grandfather then told me that it had returned, standing in our backyard. This caused me to shrink back in fear. I asked if it had come into the house. He reassured me that it was still in the backyard. He theorized that I was too young to see it. Over the years, he constantly thought about those words Mark had written. 'All of our mistakes are never forgotten'. My grandfather had come to believe that The Shape was a physical manifestation of all our wrong-doings. Its prime function is to make us suffer for the error of our ways. Since I was still young at the time, he thought that I hadn't done anything bad enough for my wrongdoings to take a physical form."

It was at this moment that Drake paused. I pulled my mind from the story he had told and made eye contact with him. He now had tears flowing down his cheeks. I had never seen a grown man cry, except for at funerals. I wanted to find some way to console him, but instead let him have his moment.

"My grandfather died a few weeks after that talk. During his last few days, he warned me about The Shape. He said it had begun to move closer to the house and was now at the back door. When I asked why it was approaching him but hadn't done the same to Mark at the hospital, he only shrugged his shoulders. He said it didn't follow a specific set of guidelines or acted in a pattern. Just like human nature, it made unexpected moves. My grandfather said that it probably acted differently for everyone it stalked."

"One night, he came into my room and gave me a hug goodnight. He said that The Shape had made its way right outside his bedroom door. He knew his time had come, and there was no place he could run. With tears welling in my eyes, I told him goodbye. I didn't sleep that night. Instead, I lay in bed with the covers pulled over my head. When morning finally arrived, my parents opened my bedroom door and rushed me into the living room. They told me to stay seated on the couch. My mom ran into my grandfather's room while my father dialed the phone in our kitchen. He had suffered a heart attack that night. Although my parents saw it as a surprise, I knew exactly what it was. I didn't speak a word of what my grandfather told me. I simply sat on the couch and waited for the ambulance to arrive. To this day, I haven't told anyone what he said."

Drake wiped his face on the sleeve of his shirt and sniffled. I continued to sit in stunned silence while my mind processed what I had just heard.

"You're the first person I've spoken to about this, John. I would've kept this to myself had I not seen you with the same look in your eyes as my grandfather. Like he said, The Shape doesn't follow a set of guidelines. It acts randomly and without notice."

Drake slowly turned around and faced back out the window.

"I can see it high up on the mountains in the moonlight. It hasn't moved since I first saw it, but that could change at any moment."

I had begun to tremble at this point, moving a shaking hand through my hair. My mind had long since shifted from seeing The Shape as a figment of my imagination, and now I began to fear it.

"But why here," I asked with an obvious tone of panic in my voice. "Why is it coming for us here?"

"I wish I could give you an explanation, but I can't. The Shape works without reasoning."

Drake turned to me and remained silent while we made eye contact again.

"I just pray to the Lord above that it doesn't come down from the mountain before we leave…"

Day 14

I hoped that I'd never have to type these words, but it moved. Drake and I woke up this morning and checked out our window like we've been doing the past few days. When I asked him if it was still there, he was silent. I called his name again, but he refused to answer. I took it upon myself to investigate and walked over to the window. I can still picture it just as vividly as I did this morning. It hadn't moved a tremendous amount, but it was almost halfway down the mountain now.

I let out a deep breath, my body beginning to shake again. I asked Drake how long it would take for The Shape to get to us, but he just shook his head.

"It could take weeks to get here, or it could take days or hours. Like my grandfather said, it acts differently for everyone."

Drake and I spent today at the expedition site. We didn't want anyone to notice how nervous we had gotten, so we did our best to hide our fear. It must have worked, considering that no one gave us any questioning glares. While everyone hovered around the screen for the ROV, the two of us sat at our table and whispered to each other. Drake feared that when we were returned to base, the figure would've moved even closer. I did my best to keep my calm, thinking that one of us needed to keep a level head. I told him not to try and worry about it too much. Neither of us wanted to work ourselves into a panic.

When we returned to the base, it hadn't moved all day. The two of us exchanged a glance of relief. That night, everyone gathered around the television to watch another movie. While everyone else had their eyes glued to the screen, Drake and I would occasionally look out the window to see if The Shape had moved. By the time the movie ended, neither of us could remember what exactly happened in it. When we weren't looking out the window, we were thinking about what we would do if The Shape got too close. The entire time, I kept reminding myself not to overthink it and to take breaks if necessary. A stressed mind yields no good solutions.

I'm sitting in bed right now, typing all of this up. Drake fell asleep about an hour ago. He had told me out at the expedition site that he hadn't slept well the night before. Although this is the first time he's admitted to me about not sleeping, I have a feeling it's happened on more than one occasion.

I just glanced over and noticed that he has a cross grasped tightly in his hand. I'm not going to say anything. I've never been someone to judge anyone based on religion, politics, or anything of that sort. Although I've never been religious, a voice in the back of my head is telling me that an occasional prayer wouldn't do me any harm right now.

Day 16

Something happened just now.

Less than an hour ago, I woke up in the middle the night and needed to go to the bathroom. I got up quietly, doing my best not to wake Drake. I slowly opened our door and made sure to lock it behind me with our key. Our bedroom is at the end of the hall, requiring me to walk a considerable distance to the community bathroom at the opposite end of the hall. I wrapped my blanket tightly around my shoulders and proceeded down the hallway.

The heater must have blown another fuse, because the hallway was absolutely freezing. It had done so maybe a week ago. My boss made Roger go outside and change it. It wasn't until later that I learned the man seemed to hold a grudge against Roger. David told me one day that it was because Roger had hit my boss's car in the parking lot or something like that. I stayed out of their fight, not wanting to make my relationship with my boss any worse. As I passed Roger and David's room, I noticed that the door was open. Roger must have taken it upon himself to go replace the fuse. Although I would never do such a thing, I applauded the man's kindness.

I turned the corner and pushed open the bathroom door when I felt something. There was an almost painful cold nipping at my ankles. The chill sent a shiver up my spine and caused my entire body to tremble. When I looked to my side, I saw that the entrance door was wide open. The bitter freeze was flooding into the building.

"Damn it, Roger…" I muttered to myself with no one around to hear me.

I pulled the blanket even tighter and made my way to the open door. With each step I took towards the door, I could feel the air getting colder. I stepped over the threshold and out into the night. Even though I was wearing my parka and had a thick blanket wrapped around me, I could still feel the chill in the air penetrating the layers. I shivered before turning in the direction of the fuse box on the side of the building. I damned whoever designed this place. I wondered who would put the fuse box outside instead of inside like a normal contractor. When I studied it closer, however, I found it was closed. If a fuse hadn't blown, that meant he walked outside for another reason. I called out his name, expecting to receive something in return. All I could hear was the sound of wind blowing.

Not knowing what else to do, I started walking around the base and searching for him. By the time I circled around the back of the base and I'd come up on the North side, I could see him standing in the snow. A feeling of relief washed over me that he hadn't wandered off somewhere to die of hypothermia. I called out his name, but he didn't respond. He continued to stand motionless, the floodlights around us casting his long shadow across the flawless white snow.

"Roger!" I yelled at the top of my lungs as I began making my way in his direction.

"Damn it, what the hell is wrong with you? Have you gone deaf or something?"

I extended a hand and placed it on his shoulder. As I gently started to shake him, he refused to acknowledge my presence.

"All right, I've had enough of this", I screamed as I leaned forward to glance at his face.

He wasn't dead, considering that I could still see his breath forming a cloud in the air. His blue eyes were wide open, and his mouth hung open in a contorted frown. As I studied him more, I could see his throat trembling as he tried to speak. With each failed attempt, his mouth would utter a squeak that I could barely hear over the howling wind.

"Roger…", I let out with a trembling voice, "what's wrong?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin when his head suddenly turned to stare into my eyes. After one big swallow, he managed to choke out a few words.

"It moved… damn it… It moved…���

I shook my head from side to side, unable to comprehend what he was talking about. Suddenly, he lifted his hand and pointed out into the night. I followed the direction his finger pointed. He was motioning towards the mountain. That's when I saw it.

The Shape had almost reached the base.

"No," I thought to myself. "How could it have moved that much in just one night?"

I turned back to face Roger. His mouth was no longer hanging open in a frown, but instead forming a demented smile. Starting off slowly, he began to laugh. This wasn't the laugh I'd heard him use whenever David told a dirty joke or we were watching Seinfeld in the den. This laugh was maddening. He sounded like someone who belonged in a mental institution.

"What in God's name is the matter with you, Roger?"

He pressed his finger over my lips and silenced me. Although he had stopped laughing, that sick smile was still plastered on his face.

"All of our mistakes are never forgotten…" he whispered with a laugh.

It was at that moment that I ran. I didn't want to stay and confront him, all I wanted to do was get away. I sprinted, not so much as turning back to catch a glimpse. I crossed over the threshold back inside, and quickly slammed the door behind me. I didn't care if I woke anyone up. All I wanted to do was get back in my bedroom and hide under my covers.

Like I said earlier, I can't go back to sleep once I wake up. I'm now sitting in my bed typing this on my laptop. Drake is still asleep with that cross gripped tightly in his hand. There's no point in me waking him to tell him what I saw. The poor man has been exhausted the past couple of days and needs his rest. I'll break the news to him in the morning.

Day 17

When I woke up this morning, I found Drake sitting at his laptop going through his email. Before I even grabbed my supplies to go shower, I told him what I saw last night. The entire time I spoke, he remained perfectly still and silent. When I finished, he sat in silence. I didn't exactly know how he would react, but I surely wasn't expecting this. For at least a minute, we sat without speaking a word to each other while he stared at the floor and thought. I was a little spooked when he finally lifted his head to look at me.

"So, The Shape is after someone else, too. I guess we're not alone in this situation anymore. Just make sure that you keep an eye on him. God only knows what a man like him is capable of."

Without speaking another word, he stood up and left our room. I didn't really know what to make of his statement. I came to the conclusion that I would talk to him more out at the expedition site and left our room to go get breakfast.

When I walked into the den, I was greeted with the sight of Roger and David sitting at the table eating breakfast and inserting data into their laptops. They both paused and looked up from their work to give me a smile and a quick wave good morning. I returned their gesture with a forced smile, doing my best to not show my fear.

I wasn't simply shocked but mortified that Roger had returned to normal. After the incident last night, I was expecting him to lock himself in his room all day. Yet, here he was. He was fully functioning and treating this morning as if nothing had happened a few hours prior. I was tempted to pull him aside and have a talk but decided against it. I would have to talk to him when he was alone and no one else was around to have any suspicion.

I ate my breakfast with the two of them, making light conversation between bites of cereal. By the time I finished and rinsed out my bowl in the sink, David had gone back to their room to grab some supplies. I tried to take advantage of the situation and talk to Roger alone. Just as I pulled back a chair to have a seat, I heard my boss call that it was time for the expedition team to depart. I swore at him under my breath and went back to my room to retrieve my backpack.

Drake and I spent the day at our table in the mobile building at the expedition site. He had to go fix an occasional software problem, and I had to repair a pneumatic line on the ROV. The rest of the time that we weren't occupied with work, we discussed how to confront Roger about the previous night. Although we both started with ideas of building up to a confrontation with him, we decided against it. When we considered what we were dealing with, we decided it was best to flat out ask him about it.

We ended up staying about an hour later than we usually did. The team working the controls had been delayed and wanted to finish up the day's assigned work now instead of making it up by leaving earlier tomorrow morning. By the time everyone piled into the snow crawlers to return to base camp, the sun had completely set. We traveled back under the guidance of bright fog lights bolted to the top of the vehicles. Even with the massive amount of light that they gave off, we still found it difficult to see through the heavy snowfall.

When we finally returned to base camp, Drake and I leaped out of the vehicle and immediately rushed inside. As we had hoped, Roger was sitting alone at the kitchen table drinking his pre-dinner White Russian. We had no idea why he did it, but we were thankful that he had kept a daily routine. The two of us each grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down with him. Before I could even open my mouth to speak to him, he held up a hand. I sat in silence while he drained the remaining liquid from his cup and rested it down on the table with a clink.

"I know exactly what the two of you want," he said while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I've been waiting all day for you to return from the site."

He let out a soft chuckle. "You know, it's really not that pleasant being left alone with your thoughts all day. I never knew I had so much darkness inside me."

Drake and I turned to each other and exchanged confused glances. Neither of us knew how to respond, so we simply sat there in silence and waited for Roger to speak again. After a few seconds, he reached over and grabbed my open beer bottle. He wrapped his lips around the neck and drank the entire thing down in a few large gulps. He lowered the empty bottle from his mouth and stared at the label. Then out of nowhere, he threw the bottle with all his might against one of the cinder block kitchen walls. Drake and I jumped in our chairs as the loud smash sent fragments of glass flying everywhere.

After a few short moments, I was able to choke out a few words to him.

"Wha- what the hell is the matter with you, Roger?"

By this point, some of the others had left their rooms to investigate the noise that echoed through the entire camp. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see David inching his way towards us. Roger sat in his chair and glared at me with that same sick, demented smile that I saw last night. It still managed to make me feel just as uncomfortable now as it did then. He then slowly turned and looked over the faces of our fellow colleagues who had gathered in the den to observe him.

"There's nothing to worry about here, boys," he said with a chuckle. "I think I've just had a few too many to drink. He reached over and picked up Drake's beer bottle, lifting it up to show everyone.

Everyone must have believed them, because they all walked away. Even though David left, I could see a hint of fear in his eyes as he walked away. When the den has finally cleared, Roger turned back to glare at me with intense hatred. He slowly stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder. He leaned closer and whispered in my ear, and I could feel his hot breath tickling my skin.

"It won't spare a single one of us. We all have our faults, but some have more than others. Compared to me, you're a saint. But that doesn't mean it'll spare you. It may just end your life without any pain. I, on the other hand, may not be so lucky."

With a final few pats on my shoulder, he left the den. As I watched him turn the corner, I could still see hatred in his eyes. I slowly turned to Drake, but he didn't acknowledge me. He just stared at the corner Roger had turned, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

Day 22

My hands are still shaking, so please forgive me for any errors I type.

I hadn't slept well in the days following my encounter with Roger. I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder. As if having to keep an eye on The Shape wasn't bad enough, now I had to watch out for a threat that lived among us. Roger had returned to normal since the incident. He acted completely rational whenever we ate dinner or watched a movie in the den. At first, I thought the way he acted that day was only momentary, but I was proven wrong. Whenever I would come to get breakfast in the morning, he would be sitting alone at the table. I would walk over to the fridge and he would stare at me as I passed. His eyes still burned with that intense hatred I saw almost a week ago. Out of fear, I kept my mouth shut and didn't say anything to him. I'd hoped that simply ignoring him would solve the issue, but I had no idea how wrong I was.

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Credit: StarlessandBibleBlack (Creepypasta Wiki • YouTube)