← Redwood Bureau
Redwood Bureau
"PROJECT VISIONARY" _ Case File #271
01:15:37
When the world around you begins to watch your every move, escape might not be an option. Especially when the eyes know your darkest secrets.
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- [00:01]
Sam
We're heading into a brand new year and for many of us that means new goals, new opportunities, and maybe even a fresh business idea that's been rattling around in your head. You know the one, the idea you've been meaning to start, but you just haven't taken the leap yet. Well, this is the year to make it happen, and Shopify is how you can do it. Shopify is the commerce platform that makes it simple to create your brand, open your store and start making sales with thousands of customizable templates. There's no need to learn coding or design. Just drag, drop and you're ready to go. Shopify's powerful social media tools help you connect all your channels and create shoppable posts so you can sell wherever your customers are scrolling. And they make growing your business a breeze, helping with things like shipping, taxes and payments, all from one single dashboard. Here at the Eriecast Network, we rely on Shopify to run our merch store, where fans of Redwood Bureau and other shows can grab their favorite gear. It's seamless, reliable and most importantly, it works. You can check out our store@eriecast.com store and see just how easily Shopify makes it to create a professional shop that's ready to grow. And hey, if you're worried about whether now is the right time to start, just think about this. How much will you regret it next year when someone else beats you to the idea? With Shopify, your first sale is a lot closer than you think. Ready to make 2025 the year you finally start? Sign up for a $1 per month trial period@shopify.com Redwood all lowercase go to shopify.com Redwood to start selling with Shopify today. That's shopify.com Redwood.
- [01:50]
Ollie
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- [02:23]
Agent Conroy
Beware the Redwood Bureau, a secret organization which captures and researches creatures and objects that defy explanation. Their reckless procedures have led to countless innocent lives lost. I am Agent Conroy. I worked for the Redwood Bureau, but I have escaped them to leak their reports to the unsuspecting public, you have the right to know. In the modern world, our understanding of vision extends far beyond the simple act of seeing. It's not just about the eyes we use to perceive the world around us, but about how those perceptions shape our reality, our minds, and our very sense of self. The human eye, with its intricate complexity, is capable of processing vast amounts of information, filtering light and shadow to create the images that define our experience. But what if the act of seeing could transcend its natural boundaries? What if vision was no longer confined to the limitations of our biology? There's a phenomenon known as sensed presence, where individuals in extreme conditions, such as mountaineers, explorers, and even survivors of disasters, report feeling the presence of another being, A sense that they are not alone. Neurologists speculate that this may be the brain's response to intense stress as it attempts to cope with the situation by creating the illusion of another person. But this raises an unsettling question. What happens when the brain, pushed beyond its limits, starts creating not just a presence, but but an entirely new reality? Consider the implications of this. Our eyes take in light, Our brains process the signals, and we create an image of the world. But our perception is not just a passive reception of the world around us. It's an active construction, influenced by our memories, our emotions, and our expectations. What we see is in many ways what we expect to see. And when that expectation is altered, when the mind starts to create rather than just perceive, the boundaries between reality and illusion begin to blur. Now, think about the concept of pareidolia, the tendency of the human brain to perceive familiar patterns where none the man in the moon, faces in clouds, and even phantom figures in the shadows. These are tricks of the mind, but they're powerful nonetheless, shaping our experiences and even our fears. If the mind can create these patterns out of random stimuli, what else could it create when pushed to its breaking point? What visions could emerge from the depths of our subconscious? And how might they alter our perception of reality? This leads us to the unsettling notion that our eyes, those delicate, complex organs, are not just tools for seeing the world, but gateways to a reality that we hardly understand. When the mind and eyes conspire, the world we see might become something entirely different, something terrifying. The thin veil of normalcy that covers our perception could be ripped away, revealing the chaos beneath. And in that chaos, what we see might just be the beginning of something far more disturbing.
- [05:56]
911 Operator
911. What's your emergency? I. I don't know how to put this, but. There's an eye. It grew out of my chest. I'm sorry, you said. What is wrong with your chest? Everything. This isn't a joke. There's an eye in my chest. Okay, so you woke up with a tattoo or drawing of an eye on your chest? No, it's a fucking eyeball. You know, like the two I would assume are in your face. It's real. It blinks and I can see out of it. Alright. Sir, have you taken any drugs within the last 24 hours? I'm not on drugs. Are you fucking listening? I need help. Send an ambulance, the cdc. I don't. I don't know, send anyone. Okay, sir, I can get working on that for you. But before I do that, I just want you to be aware that making prank calls to 911 is illegal. Are you kidding me? This isn't a joke.
- [06:56]
Call Center Supervisor
Whoa, this is a weird one.
- [06:58]
911 Operator
Emergency. And this is your last warning. Sir, I don't have time.
- [07:01]
Agent Conroy
I.
- [07:01]
Sam
Growing out of his chest, as I was saying. Yeah, definitely our department.
- [07:07]
Call Center Supervisor
I'll take this one. Use a little excitement. Nothing but nonsense tonight.
- [07:11]
911 Operator
Language when there's a damn eyeball growing.
- [07:12]
Sam
Out of my chest.
- [07:13]
Agent Conroy
Better hurry.
- [07:14]
Sam
Sounds like things are getting charged with a crime.
- [07:16]
911 Operator
It's your job not to send help. What the hell is wrong with you people? Hello? Did you hang up on me?
- [07:24]
Call Center Supervisor
No, sir, I'm here. I'm the call center supervisor. I'm sorry for the issues you were having with my operator. I'll have that taken care of. I'm preparing to send you help. Can you tell me more about what's happening?
- [07:36]
911 Operator
Oh, okay. Yeah. It started a couple days ago. My skin was itching on my chest. It wouldn't stop and kept getting worse. I was scratching it until it was bleeding. One morning when I woke up, the bloody scratch was throbbing. When I went to look at it in the mirror, it spread open and there was an eyeball inside. I almost passed out and this strange sensation washed over me like a mix of a migraine and an extreme head rush. Then it was like. I don't know, like an image in my mind, but more clear. I could see myself. I was looking up at myself. I. I don't really know how to describe this, but it's a horrible feeling and I can't make it stop.
- [08:36]
Call Center Supervisor
Wow. Sorry you're going through this, but rest assured, we'll figure this out. I've got your location from the call trace and aid is on the way. Just stay on the line with me. Do you have any idea what might have caused this? Anything weird happened within the Last month, I. Yeah, but. But what? It's okay. You could tell me. You called us, remember? I'm here to help you.
- [09:06]
911 Operator
No, that's not what he said. You don't know that.
- [09:12]
Call Center Supervisor
Sir, who are you talking to?
- [09:15]
911 Operator
What was the name of the first man I was talking to?
- [09:18]
Call Center Supervisor
I'm sorry, what?
- [09:20]
911 Operator
Your operator I was having an issue with. What was his name?
- [09:26]
Call Center Supervisor
John. John Smith. Miss? Why?
- [09:33]
911 Operator
You were right. He's lying.
- [09:36]
Call Center Supervisor
Sir, who's there with you? I'm not lying about anything.
- [09:42]
911 Operator
What do we do now?
- [09:44]
Call Center Supervisor
Hey, listen to me. Everything's going to be okay. We're going to get you help, okay? Just stay on the line with me and. We need to get Containment on my last call immediately. I think he's going to run. I'm sending the transcript now. Not much to go on, but I think the threat level's very low.
- [10:08]
Sam
The first time I noticed something was wrong, really wrong, was the morning after. That dream or nightmare or vision. Whatever it was, it left me with an aching sense of dread that wouldn't let go. I had been having strange dreams for a while, but this one was different. It was as though I had been shown something. A reality that shouldn't exist. But let me back up. Before this all began, I was just an average guy. My name's Sam. I worked a decent job. Nothing fancy, but I paid my bills. I had a small circle of friends, a girlfriend I cared about, and an apartment that was just the right mix of cozy and cluttered. Life wasn't perfect, but it was good. I didn't have any reason to think it would be otherwise. Then came the night that everything changed. Like I said, it started with the dreams. Vivid, intense, impossible dreams. I've had nightmares before. Everyone has. But these. These were something else entirely. It wasn't that they were scary. They were wrong in a way that's hard to put into words. As soon as I closed my eyes, I found myself in a place that was ancient and hostile. The dream didn't ease me in. Gently, it threw me straight into a shattered landscape that stretched endlessly in every direction. The ground beneath me was jagged and broken, a patchwork of desolate earth and sharp stone which. With cracks running deep into the darkness below. Each step felt like I was treading on the remnants of a world long dead. A place where nothing should exist. Above me, the sky was a twisted canvas of black lightning, each jagged bolt slicing through the heavens like a cruel, deliberate wound. But the lightning didn't just light up the sky. It seemed to tear through it, ripping Holes that didn't heal, as if pieces of the universe were being stolen away, never to return. The clouds were alive, swirling and shifting with an unnatural speed, as though they were sentient beings filled with malevolence. They moved with purpose, their movements chaotic yet precise, converging and dispersing, as if conducting a dark, arcane ritual. Before I could make sense of the hellish landscape, I felt it. A force impossible to resist, pulling me forward with a power that defied all logic. I wasn't walking. I was being dragged, yanked across the abyssal terrain by something unseen, something that didn't care for the limitations of my mortal body. The ground blurred beneath me as I was hurtled through the darkness, the landscape around me warping and twisting, as if the world itself was being torn apart by my passage. Then suddenly, I stopped. The force released me, and I was left standing in a patch of barren dirt, my body trembling from the aftermath of the unnatural momentum. In front of me loomed a structure, if you could even call it that, an architectural impossibility that seemed to exist beyond the constraints of physical reality. It wasn't just that it was massive. It was that it was indescribable. The walls extended and folded in on themselves at the same time, each surface intersecting at impossible angles, creating a structure that was every shape and none of them all at once. It was as if the building existed in multiple dimensions, constantly shifting and reconfiguring, yet remaining solid and immovable. As I stared at it, I felt something within the structure, an ancient aura that emanated from its very core. It wasn't just looking at me. It was looking into me, reaching into the depths of my being with an invasive, probing force. I felt it delving into my mind, my soul tearing through every barrier I had, as if it was searching for something, something only it could understand. The sensation was unbearable, a violation more profound than anything I could have imagined. My body jolted as if struck by an electric shock, and I felt myself being lifted off the ground, not by any physical force, but by the sheer intensity of the entity's gaze. It was as if my soul was being ripped from my body, dragged toward that impossible structure, towards whatever ancient, malevolent force resided within. I couldn't fight it, couldn't resist. Like I was being pulled apart on a molecular level, every part of me being unraveled and laid bare before this ancient presence. When I woke up, I could still feel its gaze on me, as if the dream hadn't ended, but had somehow followed me into the waking world. I tried to shake it off, tell myself it was just a dream. But the unease clung to me like a shadow. The rest of that day was a blur. I went through the motions. Shower, breakfast, work. But everything felt off. I couldn't focus on anything, couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. My reflection in the mirror looked back at me with eyes that didn't seem like my own, as if they had seen something they shouldn't have. I started noticing little things, too. Like how the lights in my apartment seemed dimmer, even though the bulbs were new. Or how the shadows in the corners of the rooms seemed to stretch just a bit longer than they should. The world around me seemed to be slowly warping, becoming something I couldn't recognize. But the worst part was the itching. It started on my chest, just below my collarbone. A constant, maddening itch that wouldn't go away no matter how much I scratched. I tried everything. Lotions, creams, even bandages. But nothing worked. It felt like something was crawling just beneath my skin. Desperate to get out. I kept telling myself it was stress, that it was all in my head. But deep down, I knew it was more than that. Something had changed for the worse, something fundamental. The days that followed were a blur of confusion and growing dread. I tried to carry on with my life as normally as possible, but it was like trying to walk on a tightrope stretched over a bottomless pit. The sense that something was undeniably wrong with me gnawed at the back of my mind, no matter how hard I tried to push it away. It wasn't just the dreams anymore, though. They persisted, each nightmare more vivid and terrifying than the last. They returned night after night, refusing to let me rest. I'd wake up drenched in sweat, my heart pounding. And the itching. God, the itching. What started as a small patch of irritation on my chest had spread, creeping across my skin like a disease. It was all I could think about, all I could feel. I tried not to scratch, tried to resist the overwhelming urge. But it was like trying to ignore a fire burning just beneath the surface of my skin. Every morning I'd stumble into the bathroom, hoping that today maybe it would be gone, that the irritation would have faded, that my skin would be smooth and normal again. But it never was. Instead, it seemed to be getting worse. Red lines crisscrossed my chest, angry and raw where I had scratched myself in my sleep. The skin was raised and swollen, throbbing with every beat of my heart. I couldn't go on like this, but I didn't know what to do. I was too scared to see a doctor, terrified they'd tell me something was seriously wrong, something beyond their ability to fix. But even more than that, I was scared they'd tell me that it was all in my head, that I was losing my mind. Because deep down, that's what I was starting to believe. The nightmares, the itching, the constant sense of being watched. It was all connected. I knew that much. But connected to what? And why? The questions circled in my mind day and night until I thought I would go mad from not knowing. After yet another sleepless night, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. My eyes were bloodshot, my face pale and gaunt. I looked like a man on the edge of a breakdown. And in truth, that's exactly what I was. The itching was unbearable, the skin on my chest a mass of raw, inflamed flesh. And then, as I stood there, something changed. At first it was just a sensation, something shifting beneath my skin, moving in a way that skin and muscle weren't supposed to move. I froze, my breath catching in my throat as I felt it again, a slow, deliberate movement, like something sliding beneath the surface. I ripped my shirt off, staring down at my chest in horror. The skin where I had scratched was bulging, distorting, as if something was pushing its way out from within. I couldn't move, couldn't think. Just stood there, paralyzed by fear as the bulge grew more pronounced. And then, with a sickening rip, the skin tore open and I. A human eye, fully formed, staring up at me from the center of my chest. I screamed, stumbling backward. The eye just watched me, its gaze cold and unfeeling. I collapsed onto the floor, my hands shaking as I reached to touch the eye. It blinked at me, a sensation of its lids closing and opening, sending shivers down my spine. This was real. This was happening. As I lay on the cold bathroom floor, my chest heaving from the shock, the new eye on my chest began to do something far more disturbing than blinking. It started to feel. The sensation was like nothing I had ever experienced before, a flood of sensory information that shouldn't have been possible. It was as if the eye had its own neural pathways connecting directly to my brain, bypassing my senses and integrating itself into my consciousness. I could feel every blink, every movement of the eye's pupil as it adjusted to the dim light of the bathroom. I could see myself, the vision projected somewhere in my head from a place that was supposed to be blissfully dark. The new sense made my head feel like it was going to split apart. The sensory Overload, tearing at my brain. But it wasn't just sight. The eye began to seep into my thoughts, my emotions, worming its way into my very being. It was like having another consciousness slowly unfurling within my own. A presence that wasn't me, but that I couldn't escape. I tried to shut it out, to close my mind off from this invasive sensation, but the more I resisted, the more the eye pushed back. It was relentless, probing every corner of my mind, looking for something. I didn't know what, but I could feel its need. After the next few nights of no sleep, I felt like I was on the verge of breaking apart. The new sensation, that extra awareness, the sight from the eye on my chest. It was overwhelming. I couldn't adjust to this new, uninvited perspective, having a third eye that I couldn't control. No matter how hard I tried, I avoided contact with people and didn't leave my apartment. The eye made me feel exposed, vulnerable, as if everyone could see right through me and into the bizarre, terrifying reality that had taken root in my body. I could no longer trust myself to act normal, to hide what was happening. The worst part was the feeling. The eye wasn't just an extra sense. It was a presence in my mind. Something was sharing my body with me. Something that was slowly learning, growing and adapting to its new home. I locked myself away, barely eating, barely sleeping. I turned off my phone, disconnected from the world. The fear gnawed at me, but I couldn't reach out for help. How could I explain what was happening to me? How could anyone understand? Every day was a battle between my will and the presence of the I. I could feel it pulling at me, trying to steer my thoughts in directions I didn't want to go. It wanted to see, to explore, to understand the world around me. But it wasn't content to simply observe. It wanted to know things, to experience things through me. And it was growing impatient. Then came the night when everything fell apart. I hadn't slept in days, and the exhaustion was making me delirious. I was pacing around my apartment, trying to figure out what to do, when the itching in my chest became unbearable again. I clawed at my skin until it bled, desperate to rip the eye out. But the pain only made it worse. In a moment of sheer desperation, I did the only thing I could think of. I called 911. The operator's voice was calm as I tried to explain what was happening, but the words wouldn't come out right and all sounded so insane, even to my own ears. Everything the Operator didn't believe me. I could hear it in his voice, the way he was trying to placate me, to calm me down. He kept telling me that prank calling the emergency line was a crime, But I needed help. I needed answers. I wished this was a prank. And then something changed. The operator's voice faded for a moment, replaced by another voice, this one trying to sound friendly. Are you kidding me? Claiming to be a supervisor. But something about it was wrong. The presence in my chest, the eye, reacted violently, sending a surge of panic through me. You're worried about my language when there's a damn eyeball growing out of my chest? You're the one who should be charged with a crime. Is your job not to send help? What the hell is wrong with you people? Hello? Did you hang up on me?
- [29:41]
Call Center Supervisor
No, sir, I'm here. I'm the call center or supervisor. Sorry for the issues you were having with my operator. I'll have that taken care of. I'm preparing to send you help. Can you tell me more about what's happening?
- [29:53]
Sam
Oh, okay. Yeah. It started a couple days ago. My skin was itching on my chest. It wouldn't stop and kept getting worse. I was scratching it until it was bleeding. One morning when I woke up, the bloody scratch was throbbing. When I went to look at it in the mirror, it spread open, and there was an eyeball inside. I almost passed out, and this strange sensation washed over me like a mix of a migraine and an extreme head rush. Then it was like. I don't know, like an image in my mind, but more clear. I could see myself. I was looking up at myself. I. I don't really know how to describe this, but it's a horrible feeling, and I can't make it stop.
- [30:53]
Call Center Supervisor
Wow. I'm sorry you're going through this, but rest assured, we'll figure this out. I've got your location from the call trace, and aid is on the way. Just stay on the line with me. Do you have any idea what might have caused this? Anything weird happened within the last month?
- [31:08]
Sam
I. Yeah, but.
- [31:14]
Call Center Supervisor
But what? It's okay. You can tell me. You called us, remember? I'm here to help you.
- [31:20]
Sam
A voice in my mind, the voice of the eye, suddenly came alive. It told me that the man on the phone was lying, that he wasn't who he said he was. The man is lying. He's not who he says he is. I didn't want to believe it, but I could feel it. This man wasn't here to help me. He was here to Find me. He said he's going to come and get us. He's going to take us away. No, that's not what he said. You don't know that.
- [32:01]
Call Center Supervisor
Sir, who are you talking to?
- [32:03]
Sam
Ask him who first took your call. What was the name of the first man I was talking to?
- [32:09]
Call Center Supervisor
Sorry, what?
- [32:10]
Sam
Your operator I was having an issue with. What was his name?
- [32:17]
Call Center Supervisor
John. John C. Myth. Why?
- [32:21]
Sam
You see? He lies. You were right. He's lying.
- [32:27]
Call Center Supervisor
Sir, who's there with you? I'm not lying about anything.
- [32:32]
Agent Conroy
Warning. Signal interruption detected.
- [32:37]
Ollie
Renew your health and wellness purpose this year with the reset on Alo Moves, a curated weekly program of Pilates, strength and step goals to kickstart your fitness journey. It's a 30 day, week by week program. Three days of Pilates, 10 two days of strength and 8,000 daily steps. Plus bonus nutrition tips from Sakara. Plus for only $99, you get a year's worth of access to Alo moves on demand. Full studio experience wherever you are. Get moving. Today@alomoves.com Sergeant and Mr. Smith.
- [33:10]
Agent Conroy
You're gonna love this house.
- [33:12]
Ollie
Bunk beds in a closet.
- [33:14]
Agent Conroy
There's no field manual for finding the right home, but when you do, USAA homeowners insurance can help protect it the right way. Restrictions apply.
- [33:23]
Ryan Reynolds
Hey there.
- [33:23]
Ollie
Darkness prevails here. Founder of Eeriecast, my little network of scary shows. I appreciate you listening to our scary content, but did you know you can Support us? Get ad free feeds of your favorite shows, get a 20 discount code to the Erie Cast store and unlock access to members only audiobooks all at the same time.
- [33:44]
Agent Conroy
Just go to eriecast.com/ and become a member today. It's cheap and really helps us out.
- [33:51]
Ollie
That's eeriecast.com/thank you.
- [33:58]
Agent Conroy
Signal connection restored.
- [34:01]
Sam
What do we do now?
- [34:03]
Call Center Supervisor
Hey, listen to me. Everything's going to be okay. We're going to get you help, okay? Just stay on the line with me.
- [34:10]
Sam
And he gave me a name. A name that I knew was a lie. I hung up the phone. And the voice of the eye spoke clearly in my mind. They're coming for us. You need to leave now. I didn't question it. I grabbed a backpack, stuffed it with clothes, money, anything small and of value, and headed out the door. The adrenaline was the only thing keeping me moving. The only thing keeping me from collapsing and panic and exhaustion. My first stop was the ATM down the street. I jabbed my card into the slot with shaking hands, my eyes darting around the empty street as the machine beeped in response. Every second felt like an eternity as I waited for the cash to spit out. I'd punched in my daily limit, a measly sum that felt like a drop in the ocean compared to the overwhelming sense of dread pulsing through my veins. The Eye remained eerily silent, a watchful presence that only amplified my paranoia. When the bills finally slid out, I snatched them up, crumpling them into my pocket without counting. I needed to move. The Eye told me to leave my car, and although every rational part of me screamed to drive as far away as possible, I couldn't shake the growing sense that the Eye knew something I didn't. Maybe it was my deteriorating mental state, or maybe it was the building paranoia over how my life had fallen apart. But I could sense the Eye's fear, too, as if the very thing inside me was just as afraid. That thought alone sent a chill down my spine. Whatever this thing was, it had been confident, almost cocky, and its new place in my body. But if it was afraid, then I knew I had no choice. Not trusting it now might lead to something far worse than what I was already going through. As I walked away from the atm, my pace quickened, driven by the unnerving silence of the Eye, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. The streets were quiet, the usual city noise muted under the oppressive weight of my anxiety. And then I saw them. A convoy of black SUVs speeding down the road, their windows tinted so dark it was impossible to see inside. My heart pounded in my chest, the thudding echoing in my ears like a war drum. Without thinking, I pulled my hat down low, forcing myself to look at the ground as I shoved my hands into my pockets, picking up my pace. The sound of engines roared in my head, mixing with the blood pounding in my ears. I could feel the vibrations through the pavement as the SUVs passed by, each one sending a new wave of panic through me. The Eye was still, as if it was holding its breath along with me. I dared not look up until the noise had completely faded into the distance. Just when I thought I might be in the clear, a sound overhead made my blood run cold, the rhythmic thumping of helicopter blades slicing through the air. I didn't need to look up to know what they were. Two black helicopters scanning the area like predators hunting their prey. The Eye didn't need to tell me twice. I knew I had to move. I started speed walking, resisting the urge to break into a full sprint. The Eye was right. Standing out now would be a death sentence. I forced myself to stay calm, to blend in with the people walking the streets around me. But every step felt like it was dragging me closer to the edge of a precipice, one wrong move away from tumbling into whatever abyss was waiting for me. As I passed by an old run down cinema, its neon sign flickering weakly, the eye pulsed violently in my chest, a sharp, insistent demand that nearly knocked the wind out of me. It was screaming at me to go inside, to take refuge in the darkness of that decrepit building. I didn't question it. I couldn't. I turned sharply, almost tripping over my own feet as I rushed to the entrance. The door creaked as I pushed it open, the air inside thick with the smell of popcorn, long gone stale. I bought a ticket to whatever was playing. The cashier barely glanced at me as I handed over a few crumpled bills. The eye's presence was like a vice around my heart, tightening with every second. It hadn't led me wrong so far, but the idea of being trapped in a dark room with the thing in my chest again made my skin crawl. Still, I listened, slipping into the dimly lit theater. Inside, the pounding of the speakers drowned out the commotion of the world outside, but I knew it was there, somewhere beyond those walls. They were searching for me, scouring the streets with eyes hidden behind tinted glass. I slunk into a seat at the back, my hoodie pulled tight around my face. The eye was calm now, its pulse steady, but I was far from being able to relax. I sat through the movie, though I couldn't tell you what it was about. The images on the screen were just a blur, my mind too preoccupied with the anxiety gnawing at my insides. When the credits finally rolled, I slipped out of the theater and headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The eye was still, almost content as I ducked into another theater just as the next movie was starting. I did this for hours, switching from one theater to the next. Time lost all meaning as the darkness of the cinema became my sanctuary. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the eye pulsed again, a signal that it was time to move. I slipped out of the cinema and back onto the street, the cold night air hitting me like a slap in the face. The city was uncannily quiet now, the streets mostly deserted, the only sound the distant hum of traffic. I walked quickly, my eyes darting around, every shadow a potential threat. The eye was growing more insistent now, its influence tightening around my thoughts like a noose. I didn't know where I was going, but it seemed like the eye did, and I had no options but to Follow its lead. The night wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket as I checked my surroundings. The darkness feeling thicker than usual, more dangerous. The still night in oppressive contrast to the raging storm of madness inside my mind. The Eye had guided me this far, but every step now felt like I was walking on the edge of a knife, teetering on the brink of some impending fate far worse than death. I quickened my pace down the sidewalk, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to shake the unsettling feeling that clung to me like a cancer. My breath came out in short, sharp bursts. My nerves frayed from days of mounting stress and sleepless nights. I had no idea what I was going to do. But the Eye seemed to have a plan of its own. There was a twisted sort of comfort in that. A small part of me that believed I might actually survive if I just let it take the lead. But that same thought filled me with rage. A boiling rage directed squarely at the thing lodged within my chest. This was all its fault. The paranoia, the isolation, the fear. Every bit of suffering I had endured was because of it. Anger surged through me, hot and blinding. I wanted to rip the Eye out, to carve it from my flesh and crush it beneath my shoe. The urge was so overwhelming that. That I found myself gripping the handle of my knife in my pocket, contemplating the violent act. But as soon as the thought entered my mind, I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest. The Eye screamed at me, a shriek of terror that reverberated through my skull, making me wince in pain. The emotions that flooded my mind weren't mine alone. The Eye didn't want to be here either. It was as much a prisoner as I was trapped within. A body it didn't belong to. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. But I didn't believe it. Not fully. Whatever the Eye wanted didn't matter. This is my body. I walked for hours, my anger simmering beneath the surface as I randomly turned down streets, letting my feet carry me wherever they chose. The Eye was silent, brooding, and I reveled in its discomfort. As I turned a corner, I saw a man walking towards me, his eyes fixed on the ground, just like mine. We were on a collision course, and I could feel the tension crackling in the air between us. The closer we got, the more intense the connection became. It was like a wireless snapping taut. A sudden, sharp awareness that we were linked by something beyond understanding. As we passed each other, our eyes met our real ones. And in that moment, I knew I wasn't the only one. This man had an eye, too, hidden somewhere beneath his clothing, and it was just as furious and demanding as mine. The eye in my chest screamed at me to unzip my hoodie, to let it look upon this stranger, to see what it was that bound us together. But I resisted, clenching my teeth as I fought against its will. I wouldn't let it win. I wouldn't give in to whatever it wanted. As we passed each other, I glanced back over my shoulder, half expecting to see the man doing the same. He was. Our gazes locked once more, and in that brief second, a lifetime of understanding passed between us. He knew he was living the same nightmare, walking a similar path of terror and madness. But before I could process what it meant, he turned the corner and vanished from sight. The eye in my chest fell silent, its seething anger mirroring my own. It refused to answer the burning questions in my mind. What was this? Was it possible there were others like me, scattered across the world, cursed with these parasitic eyes that sought something I couldn't understand? I hoped the people in the black SUV's weren't after that man as well. The silence weighed heavily on me as I continued walking the street, streets blending into one another until I lost track of where I was. Eventually, I stumbled upon a seedy motel, the kind of place that didn't ask questions. As long as you paid in cash, it was perfect. I handed over the money and took the key, heading up to the room with the all too familiar sense of true dread gnawing at my insides. I spent the night tossing and turning in the lumpy bed, the thin walls doing little to block out the sounds of the other tenants. Arguments, crying babies, a TV blaring too loud. But through it all, the eye remained silent, brooding in the darkness of my chest. I could feel its fright, frustration, its desire to move, to see, to do something. But I refused to give it the satisfaction. I wouldn't be its puppet. The next morning, I boarded the first available Greyhound bus, heading as far away as possible. I had no destination in mind, only the need to keep moving, to stay one step ahead of whoever was hunting me. Days passed in a blur of highways, rest stops, and sleepless nights, but the dread never left me. I felt it was only a matter of time before they caught up to me, but I had hoped for at least a little more time. That hope was shattered when I found myself walking down an unfamiliar street in an unfamiliar town, the sun setting on another day of running. A nondescript white van pulled up next to me, its engine Idling as the window rolled down. My heart skipped a beat when a voice called my name. A voice that shouldn't have known me. That couldn't have known me.
- [50:26]
Agent Conroy
I know who you are.
- [50:27]
Sam
And who's after you, the man in the van said, his tone calm and steady.
- [50:34]
Agent Conroy
I also know it's a lot to ask for your trust. But I'm here to help.
- [50:38]
Sam
The Eye was silent in my mind, its usual frantic energy replaced by a cold, unnerving stillness. I took that as a sign. Whoever this man was, whatever he wanted, it had to be better than the alternative. With a deep breath, I climbed into the van, the door closing behind me with a finality that sent a shiver down my spine. As we drove away, the. The darkness of the night swallowed us whole, and I couldn't help but wonder if I had just traded one nightmare for another. But there was no turning back now. The only thing left to do was survive.
- [51:36]
Agent Conroy
Look, Sam, I'm not going to sugarcoat this. We don't understand what's happening to you yet. But if the Redwood Bureau wants you, you're not safe.
- [51:45]
Sam
You keep saying that, but why do you care? What makes you different from the people you're warning me about?
- [51:54]
Agent Conroy
Because I used to be one of them.
- [51:58]
Sam
What? You worked for them?
- [52:03]
Agent Conroy
For a long time. I was good at it, too. Tracking down anomalies, bringing them in, covering things up. I believed in what we were doing. I thought I was part of something that was protecting people, keeping the world safe. But I was wrong.
- [52:20]
Sam
Why are you telling me this? If you were with them, why help me?
- [52:26]
Agent Conroy
Because I've seen what they do to people like you. You people whose paths cross with the unexplained. The things they hide, the people they hurt. I didn't stop it when I had the chance because I believed their lies. I thought I was working toward the greater good, but really, it was just an excuse.
- [52:44]
Sam
An excuse for what?
- [52:48]
Agent Conroy
For being a coward? For standing by while they ruined lives. I watched people disappear. Heard the screams echo through those cold, sterile halls. And I told myself it was necessary, that those sacrifices would save incalculable lives. But that was a lie. And now. Now I'm trying to make up for it. I can't undo what I've done, Sam. But I can try to stop it from happening again. That's why I'm here. Why I found you before they did. Because you don't deserve to be another of their victims. No one does.
- [53:25]
Sam
So what now? We just run and hide?
- [53:29]
Agent Conroy
We do more than that. We fight back. I'm not the only one who's seen the truth. There are others. People who want to stop the Bureau, to expose them for what they really are. I've been putting together a team. Slowly, quietly. People with skills, with knowledge, with a reason to stand against them. It's not much yet, but it will be. Every person makes a difference.
- [53:55]
Sam
And you want me to be a part of this?
- [53:58]
Agent Conroy
You've got something they want, Sam. Something they'll tear this world apart to get their hands on. But that also means we've got a chance to use it against them. To turn the tables. If you're willing.
- [54:12]
Sam
I don't know if I'm ready for this.
- [54:15]
Agent Conroy
None of us are. But we don't have the luxury of time. They're coming. And they never stop until they have what they want. Right now, that's you. You don't have to decide right now. But know this. I won't force you into anything. I'm here because I've made my choice. I'm not running anymore. I'm fighting. And if you stand with me, then we'll figure this out together. All of it. Before you decide, read this. It'll show you what we're really up against. And then you can make your choice. Warning. Signal interruption detected. Signal connection restored.
- [55:09]
Ryan Reynolds
Log entry 001. Initial containment. Subject number B271, identified as a 34 year old male, was brought in under heavy sedation following the spontaneous manifestation of an anomalous eye in the upper center of his back. The eye appeared unexpectedly, emerging over a matter of hours and has since maintained an unnerving state of alertness, seemingly independent from the subject's normal vision. Initial scans confirmed that the eye is anatomically connected to the subject's nervous system. Although the pathways are atypical, branching into areas of the brain not usually associated with visual processing. The subject's mental state upon arrival was marked by severe distress. He exhibited signs of acute paranoia, continuously muttering about being watched by something beyond human comprehension. When questioned, he described the eye as a sentient entity, claiming it was seeing things that he had no control over. His physical condition, aside from the presence of the eye, appeared relatively stable, though his skin around the ocular formation was inflamed and raw from repeated scratching. Within the first hour of containment, the subject began to complain of an intense itching sensation beneath the skin, spreading from the eye's location outward. This was closely followed by complaints of acute pain, described as thousands of needles piercing through his back. The pain radiated through his spinal column, suggesting that the anomaly was affecting his central nervous system more extensively than initially observed. The Bureau's standard protocol requires the maintenance of the anomaly's integrity. Hence, no medical intervention was offered to the suspect, despite his visible distress. The primary concern was to observe the natural progression of the condition, unhindered by external variables. The subject's pleas for pain relief were ignored, with the understanding that any interference could contaminate the data collection process. As the hours passed, the subject's mental coherence began to deteriorate. He became increasingly unresponsive to standard cognitive tests, focusing instead on the movements of the eye during periods of lucidity. He described feeling as though he was splitting into two one part of him remaining human and the other part, whatever was connected to the eye becoming something else entirely. This statement has been noted for further psychological analysis. A full body scan revealed that the initial ocular formation was not an isolated event. Beneath the skin, particularly along the spine and shoulder blades. There were indications of further growths, similar in structure to the eye, but smaller and less developed. This discovery suggested that the anomaly was spreading, utilizing the subject's body as a host for further manifestations. The initial containment phase was primarily observational, with daily recordings of the eye's activities and the subject's psychological state. Cameras were installed in the containment unit to monitor the eye 24 7, capturing every minute movement. These recordings revealed that the eye was not simply passively observing. It was actively searching, scanning its surroundings as if aware of the surveillance. This behavior raised significant concerns within the research team, leading to the first hypothesis that the eye possessed a level of sentience independent of the host's consciousness. Log entry 002. Anomalous progression. The following day, the situation escalated dramatically. The itching and pain previously localized to the area around the first eye intensified, spreading across the subject's entire back. By the end of the second day, two additional eyes had emerged, each smaller than the original but equally functional. These new eyes were located on either side of the spinal column, symmetrically placed, as if following a predetermined pattern. The appearance of these new eyes coincided with a significant decline in the subject's mental health. His speech became increasingly incoherent, filled with disjointed sentences and phrases that suggested a growing detachment from reality. He frequently referred to himself in the third person, a possible indication that he was losing a sense of self or that he perceived the eyes as separate entities within him. The inflammation around the eyes worsened, with the skin taking on a glossy, almost translucent appearance. Blood vessels could be seen converging towards each eye, forming A dense network of veins that pulsated rhythmically, as though in sync with a separate heartbeat. The Bureau's medical team expressed concern about the potential for systemic infection, but the decision was made to withhold antibiotics to avoid disrupting the anomaly's progression. Neurological assessments revealed that the subject's brain activity was becoming increasingly erratic. EEG readings showed unusual spikes in the occipital lobe, an area typically responsible for processing visual information. Despite the subject's primary vision remaining unchanged, these spikes correlated with periods of heightened activity from the eyes, particularly when they were exposed to bright light or sudden movements. A critical observation was made during the second night of containment. The eyes, which had remained mostly stationary, suddenly became hyperactive. They moved rapidly, independently of each other, scanning the room with an almost frantic energy. The subject, who had been restrained to prevent self harm, began to thrash violently in his sleep, as if reacting to something only he could perceive. This episode lasted approximately 20 minutes before the subject and the eyes returned to their previous state. The psychological impact on the subject continued to deepen. He began to exhibit signs of extreme paranoia, accusing the research team of being agents of the eye. His perception of reality became increasingly distorted. At times, he claimed to be experiencing the world through the eyes on his back, describing scenes and details that he could not possibly have seen from his position. The subject's physical health also began to decline. His skin grew pale and clammy, with a noticeable loss of muscle mass. Blood tests indicated severe dehydration and a drop in essential nutrients, likely due in part to his refusal of food or drink. The decision was made to administer intravenous fluids to keep him alive, though the subject reacted violently to the insertion of the iv, screaming that the needle was feeding them. Despite the subject's deteriorating condition, the decision was made to continue the study. The primary objective was to understand the mechanism behind the eye's manifestation and its potential applications. The research team was instructed to proceed with caution, as any misstep could result in the loss of valuable data. The growing concern among the researchers was the possibility that the eyes were not merely physical anomalies, but were somehow linked to an external consciousness, one that was using the subject as a conduit. The next phase of the study will involve more invasive procedures to explore this theory. Log entry 003. Advancing anomalous activity. By the third day of containment, the subject's condition had taken a severe turn. The initial three eyes had now multiplied with a total of six fully developed ocular formations spread across the subject's back and shoulders. Each eye was distinct in size and orientation. Yet all shared the same unsettling quality. Hypervigilance. The eyes appeared to operate with complete autonomy, tracking movements around the room independently and reacting to various stimuli with heightened sensitivity. The emergence of additional eyes coincided with a noticeable degradation in the subject's cognitive functions. His speech patterns became disorganized, peppered with cryptic statements that seemed to reflect a growing detachment from reality. Notably, he began to speak in fragments, with each eye contributing to the narrative, creating a disjointed and fragmented monologue that was nearly impossible to follow. The subject's physical condition continued to deteriorate rapidly. His skin, once pale, had taken on a grayish hue, and his body showed signs of severe malnutrition despite the IV fluids being administered. The eyes, however, seemed to thrive, their vitality in stark contrast to the weakening state of their host. Blood tests revealed abnormal levels of several hormones, suggesting that the eyes were influencing the subject's endocrine system in ways that remained poorly understood. The Bureau's interest in the eye's potential as an information gathering tool led to the authorization of invasive procedures to aimed at uncovering the extent of their integration with the subject's nervous system. The initial tests involved minor surgical incisions to expose the nerve pathways leading to each eye. The findings were both fascinating and disturbing. The eyes had developed their own neural network, intricately woven into the subject's spinal cord and brainstem. This network was not only functional, but but appeared to be actively expanding, seeking out new areas of the brain to interface with. Despite the subject's increasingly fragile state, the Bureau insisted on pressing forward with more aggressive testing. The next phase involved direct stimulation of the neural pathways connected to the eyes, using electrical impulses to provoke reactions. The results were immediate and dramatic. Upon stimulation, the eyes reacted in unison, their movements synchronized in a manner that suggested a shared consciousness, or at the very least, a coordinated effort. The subject, however, responded with extreme distress, convulsing violently and begging for the tests to stop. His pleas were ignored as the primary objective was to gauge the extent of the anomaly's control over the host. As the tests progressed, it became evident that the eyes were not merely passive observers, but were actively influencing the subject's behavior. On several occasions, the subject exhibited signs of being controlled by the eyes, performing actions that he later claimed to have no memory of. These episodes grew more frequent and severe, culminating in a particularly disturbing incident. During a routine examination, the subject suddenly became unresponsive, his eyes glazing over as the ocular formations on his back began to twitch erratically. Without warning, he lunged at one of the attending researchers, his movements unnaturally quick and precise. The attack was stopped by security personnel, but not before the subject inflicted serious injuries. In the aftermath, the subject claimed to have been watching from the outside, as if his consciousness had been displaced by the eyes during the attack. This incident marked a significant escalation in the situation, leading to the decision to place the subject under stricter containment protocols. The room was modified with reinforced restraints and continuous sedation was initiated to prevent further outbursts. Despite these precautions, the eyes remained active, their movements betraying a sense of restless energy, as though they were aware of their confinement and were seeking a way to escape. Log entry 004, containment protocol. The subject's condition had deteriorated to the point where he was no longer recognizable as the individual who had first entered containment. His body, now riddled with a few dozen eyes, had become a grotesque mockery of human form. The eyes were no longer confined to his back, but had spread across his limbs, chest, and even his face, Each one a glaring reminder of the anomaly's relentless progression. The final phase of the containment plan was implemented in response to the growing threat posed by the subject. The Bureau's primary objective had shifted from study to containment. Recognizing the potential dangers if the anomaly were to spread beyond the subject's body. A specialized containment chamber was constructed, designed to isolate the subject completely and to nullify the influence of the eyes. The chamber, constructed of reinforced steel and lead lined walls, was equipped with a series of high intensity strobe lights and sonic emitters calibrated to disrupt the neural signals from the eyes. The theory was that by overwhelming the eyes with sensory input, their ability to communicate with each other and control the subject would be severely diminished. This approach was experimental, based on theoretical models rather than concrete data. But we are willing to take the risk given the alternative. Once the subject was secured within the chamber, the lights and emitters were activated. The immediate effect was catastrophic. The eyes began to convulse violently, their movements erratic and uncontrolled. The subject, despite being heavily sedated, exhibited signs of extreme distress, his body thrashing against the restraints as the eyes struggled to adapt to the sensory onslaught. Over the next several hours, the situation stabilized, with the eyes entering a state of dormancy. Their movement ceased and the subject's vital signs, while still weak, returned to a level that was deemed acceptable by the medical team. The Bureau considered this a success, noting that the containment measures had effectively neutralized the immediate threat. However, concerns remain about the long term viability of this solution. The eyes, while dormant, continue to pose a Significant and enigmatic risk. There is no guarantee that the current containment methods will hold indefinitely or keep the subject alive. The Bureau has ordered continuous monitoring of the subject with contingency plans in place should the situation escalate again. In the meantime, the subject's fate is sealed within the chamber, his body a living prison for the anomaly. Our research continues, driven by our growing need to understand the nature of this phenomenon.
- [70:23]
Sam
So am I going to end up like that guy? With eyes sprouting all over my body and losing my mind?
- [70:33]
Agent Conroy
It's unlikely. The changes you've gone through have slowed down. What happened to him, that was different. The time frame, the progression. Yours isn't following the same pattern.
- [70:44]
Sam
That's something, I guess. But I still don't get it. Any of this. Why me? And honestly, I. I don't even know if I trust you, Conroy.
- [70:59]
Agent Conroy
I don't expect you to trust me. Sam. I was part of this. What they're doing now, what they've done to people like you. I should have done something to stop them then. But if there's any way I can make it right, even just a little, I'll do it. I wish you didn't have to make a choice. That you didn't have that eye. But I can't change that. The Bureau has forced both our hands, and for that, I'm truly sorry.
- [71:24]
Sam
I'll help you for now. But this doesn't mean I trust you. Just. If it means stopping those bastards or even slowing them down, I'll do what I can. Whatever that may be.
- [71:40]
Agent Conroy
That's all I'm asking.
- [71:46]
Sam
Hey.
- [71:46]
Call Center Supervisor
I'm Ryan Reynolds. Recently, I asked Mint Mobile's legal team if big wireless companies are allowed to raise prices due to inflation.
- [71:53]
Ollie
They said yes.
- [71:54]
Call Center Supervisor
And then when I asked if raising prices technically violates those onerous two year contracts, they said. What the are you talking about, you insane Hollywood ass. So, to recap, cutting the price of mint unlimited from $30 a month to just $15 a month. Give it a try@mintmobile.com switch.
- [72:11]
Ollie
$45 up front payment equivalent to $15 per month. New customers on first three month plan only. Taxes and fees, extra Speed slower above 40 gigabytes. Details.