Number 6: The Lab

It's existence is unknown to the world. They work in secret and are even hidden from major government services like the FBI and CIA. The place is often just a small talk or conspiracy made by stoners who think something more of the world-- although they are right --and try to expose something they cannot possibly fathom entirely.

This lab isn't just some Area 51-ish research station. No, this lab goes beyond the realm we live in. It sits by________________________________________________________________________1̡̢̫̼͎͍́̋̀͗͛̍0͉̝̙̯̮̭̦͍̟͌̿͗͆͗̌̕͘͢͠͡1̱̣̦̫̯̙͖̽̊̿̍̅͞͡

I was lucky enough to see and even live to write the tale. The day I found out about the lab and the day I became the main target, both days I wish I'd just stay home with my wife and her awful cooking.

It was September 9th, 2022. I was assigned to do a report on Hogrive Laboratory and the incident that happened there 5 years ago. Hogrive Laboratory was a lab originally established in Germany during the 2nd World War. It was not a lab built to aid any country, instead a lab built solely for discovering the laws of Reality. The experiments and findings done at the lab were unknown, but it was reported to have success in whatever they were trying to find.

After the war, the lab was given ownership to America and was rebuilt. The safety of the knowledge of the Universe rested in America's hands. Some things were leaked saying that America was misusing the knowledge for ulterior motives but those were chalked as conspiracies.

The lab was up and running until five years ago, a mysterious incident happened that resulted in the disappearance of 190 lab workers. After that, the place was closed for good. Scientists that have worked there previously say that the lab has an irregular fluctuation of space-time. However someone can calculate space-time is beyond me. But interesting enough for a story.

Entering the lab gave me a new pair of lenses to look through, but I'll get to all of the bizarre things later. The lab itself was no different than any other major laboratory. There were even classrooms in some hallways, most likely to teach and coach any assistants or new employees. This lab was infamous for student studies.

I walked down a hallway labeled Quantum Lab where most of the disappearances happened. The air felt thin. Too thin, as if I almost couldn't breathe. I could feel the traces of life left behind, giving me a not-so-pleasant feeling with the atmosphere.

Papers were left on top of desks and documents and types of equipment were positioned as if they were still being used, but no one was there. A feeling that could only be described as complete abandonment.

I followed a map of the lab and entered one of the main testing rooms. Everything was interesting but still no different from the rest of the establishment. I disorderly searched through cabinets and drawers looking for anything that can lead to a breakthrough. But one thing I did saw would come to be my biggest mistake to find.

It was a brown book in a metal safe. The safe was open, the lock broken. Someone must've broken the safe to get something important from there. But why was this book in the safe? Was it important? Was it important enough to leave behind?

The book was old, dusty, and badly withered but fortunately, still legible. On the cover were big letters reading, "In The Count of 10." The words' spacing seemed like whoever wrote it was either in a rush or too busy to care about symmetrical placement. The words needed to tell what it was and it did the job. There were faded words on the cover written with something different. It was hard to read but he could make out the words "fear" and "doctors are watching."

Upon picking it up, I didn't think much of it, just thought it was someone's old journal or documents from some stupid old study. But when I opened it, my mind went numb from dubiety. The pages, old as the book was, were faded and slightly torn. The first page was a conversation between pronouns, the second was a story about a monster in Kitagawa Research Lab, and the third page was about some abstract scenery of a field. 1738173_2_36×7273 [But when HE kept turning the page, HE got to the sixth story and immediately stuttered into an unnerving shock.]

The sixth story was about me. It was written as if I was making a report myself. Or if I wrote a story about this place I've never been to yet... Here. This lab. The story was of me writing a report or story about the lab.

But how? How did this book know I was going to be here? As I read more, the words replayed every action I've done so far down to my very thoughts.

"Wh-What is this? How the hell is it doing this? Holy shit! How the fuck does it know what I'm going to say!? Or even thinking!"

It was meta. I flipped through the pages and ended on the last. The dates were around 1943 and were written as if someone was documenting something for the book itself. But what was strange was the writing. It was modern, too modern for the 1940s.

I didn't have time to read it as suddenly my vision became warped. The room seemed to bend and twist. The bend bent in and out of twists that circled around. Out of nowhere appeared a cell in front of me. A musty cell that reeked of rusted metal. In the cell was a man. The man was trying to tell me something. "Tah kli por tchute najkelifa." I recognize that language. It's a pacific islander language called Giwanian. He was saying he needed to find the 9th message, whatever that meant.

The light in the room started to spin and spread. The cell and the man quickly disappeared. I looked in front of me and saw the back of my head. My head then started to fade into a red, dimly lit figure before going away forever. Everything was back to normal except for one thing.

Right there in front of me was something I couldn't explain. It was like the air was a shattered mirror and within that broken or fractured air was a piece of paper, glitched out of proportions. On the piece of paper was one sentence, the other words were glitched and illegible. It read exactly what it reads on my story page in the book.

"This is message #9? What is that supposed to mean?"

I looked down at the book.

"Why does my story page end right here?"