21h 25min, apr 8, 1987 y - Arnold's Personal Log - Final

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"My name is Arnold Eugene Rivers. The date is April 8th, 1987. About a quarter past nine at night. I was involved in the Morelli Construction project at Mount Greylock. I was hired for my background in anthropology and archaeology. I worked to excavate a number of different historical sites. Paul Morelli took me on after securing the government contract for the Greylock Project. I'm recording this because I believe my life is in danger and I likely don't have a lot of time left. So I need to leave some kind of record of my findings. On March 24th, our crew came across tunnels in the mountain that held a multitude of ancient markings and artifacts. On March 25th, Paul cleared the interior of the mountain and asked me, accompanied by a small crew, to look through the tunnels and record notes on what I was able to recognize. I was then to report to one of the project directors named Frank Porter to offer my perspective on our findings. I kept this to myself at the time, but what we discovered in that mountain was not normal. Not only did I see it was having an impact on the crew, but certain aspects of my findings weren't making any sense. Many of the artifacts were pre-colonial. Some were from Native American tribes, but, there were other artifacts. Some Mesoamerican, and others were shockingly Clovis in nature. Finding Clovis artifacts here means that people have been coming to Mt. Greylock since at least 11,000 BCE. But that's not all, no, there are artifacts I found that could potentially be from even earlier, Paleo-American cultures that have yet we have yet to be even begin studying. Then there were artifacts and writings left by the cultures that were pre-Columbian in nature. Transoceanic contacts prior to Columbus. Reaching the Americas has always been largely a theory, but, but the artifacts in this mountain, they, they prove it. Ancient Chinese, Arabic, Indian, Roman, Spanish, Viking, even Ancient Greek and Egyptian. Our findings that day alone would change world history as we know it today. I'll admit the anthropologist in me was thrilled. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I figured it could be a hoax. But i'm confident that it's all authentic. But my excitement was soon replaced with a looming fear and anxiety. How could such a place be important to so many cultures for so long? There must be something immense here. Whatever it was. Well, that's why I left the project. The tunnels all connected to a series of chambers deep into the interior of the mountain. That's where the majority of the relics were found. There were old baskets of herbs and spices. Pottery, weapons, and armor, talismans and other religious items. Countless other things. But all of it was there purposely as offerings."
"Then I witnessed many altars constructed out of the mountain stone, along with evidence of mass animal and human sacrifice. And the carvings in the walls of these chambers. I couldn't recognize a single familiar symbol. And it made me sick to even look at them. Let me be clear I am not, nor have I ever been, a religious man. But there's something in that mountain. Something people of countless cultures, over the history of our planet have been worshiping. But I don't know why. But I can feel it. Whatever's down there, I could feel it. It was like being trapped in a fever dream. I swear I could hear a voice and even felt compelled to go further to whatever is down there, to go further to speak to whatever is down there. I don't. I don't know why I haven't been right since. Like, I keep hearing this droning in my head, ceaseless, all day and night. I can't sleep. Just droning, always droning. But that doesn't matter right now, I informed Mr. Porter in my report that my archaeological findings in the mountain are of monumental historical importance and that there is certainly more to be discovered. And I recommended discontinuing construction there. But it's not as though I have any authority over the project. I fully expected to be ignored. Mr. Porter called me on the evening of March 28th, and spoke on the phone briefly. It was as I thought. He disregarded by concerns. I informed him that I wasn't going to return to the site. He insisted I did. Said I was a valuable asset to the project. Even offered me a substantial raise. And wanted me to lead a specifically organized team that would clear the tunnels of artifacts before excavation could continue. I, quote on quote, could be responsible for the biggest historical finding of all time, he said. I refused again. I won't put a price on my sanity or my health, especially after seeing what was happening to the crew."
"I consider myself incredibly lucky to not be in that condition right now. Oddly, he accepted my second refusal. Wished me luck on my future endeavors. But before I could say anything else, he hung up. But it seemed I made the right choice. I heard something awful happened up at Greylock. And then simultaneously, there have been all these things that have been happening around the mountain... the home invasions, the dead bodies that fell from the sky over Cheshire, the pregnancy phenomena, so many other unexplainable things. They must all be related. And I've been trying to figure out how. I've connected with a local investigator who's been trying to get to the bottom of this. I've shared everything I have, though I feel that I've been being watched. I feel a looming threat that I can't really explain. Would the government really send someone to kill me over this? I feel like I'm paranoid like I've lost some of my mind. But came home from the grocery store the other day and my front door was unlocked and I know I had locked it before I left. I scanned my entire house for traces of anything but found nothing out of the ordinary. I even checked and replaced all of the light bulbs. Oh, God. Saying it out loud like this... it makes me realize how crazy I sound, I've always been a rational man. There's a logical explanation behind everything. Well, I'm glad I've put all of this into a recording. Perhaps that was what I needed to snap me out of this. Honestly, I feel much better just talking about it. This can't be! Oh, my God... that's my basement door... No, no, no, no, no. Camcorder... where's the damn camcorder? There it is, thank God!"

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