CHAPTER 110

110

LOG 10/16/2023 22:16 GMT-4

TRANSCRIPT: AUDIO/VIDEO RECORDING

Sordello: You're dead, Deputy. Analysis Note: Part of me wondered if the subject's mind went to the blast when she said that. Surely he had no memory of what came after. Or, at the very least, there was a blank spot. Maybe he remembered waking here and nothing else? I don't know. Selfishly, I wish I did. I wanted her to ask him. But she couldn't. There simply wasn't time. Additional soldiers poured into the room, surrounding the Plexiglas booth from all sides, weapons ready. Nobody fired, though. At least five or six voices were shouting in my earpiece, and considering I could only hear the half of it, I can only image what Sordello was listening to. That's probably why she pulled hers out and tossed it on the floor. The subject's vitals were still unresponsive; I did not expect them to return. I was as surprised as all the others when he registered anything at all. He was staring at his hands. Then he turned nervously to the soldiers.

Maro: Are they here to kill me? Why? Analysis Note: Sordello knew the soldiers would kill her if she pressed forward, but she did anyway.

Sordello: You need to read the folders. Start with yours; it's on top. Hurry. Analysis Note: The subject reluctantly reached forward and removed them all, set them on his lap, and opened his own. The lines on his face grew as he read the text, studied the photographs.

Sordello: You. Are. Dead. Maro: This can't be … Sordello: That night, when Gabby Sanchez found you with Addie, she stabbed you six times. Twice in your neck, one of which pierced your jugular. You bled out in under a minute. She then killed Addie Gallagher. The authorities believe she went into shock at that point, because at least thirty minutes went by before she took her own life. You're holding the police reports, newspaper clippings, and interviews with your neighbors and her friends and coworkers. That happened in 1947. Not here, but in Albuquerque. Maro: I don't understand. Analysis Note: The soldiers nearest Sordello's door parted, and a man I didn't recognize knelt, pulled some sort of kit from his pocket, and went to work on the lock. Sordello's grip tightened on the gun. She nodded toward all the files.

Sordello: You've been dead for more than seventy-five years, Matt. Not only you, but Stuart Peterson. He committed suicide in 1964. Josh Tatum died of lethal injection in 1992 for killing his wife and children. Arwa Gilmore buried multiple husbands before authorities caught up with her in Atlanta more than thirty years ago. She swallowed cyanide rather than answer for her crimes. Cody Hill blew himself up while attempting to build a bomb in his parents' basement in 2003 … the list goes on and on. Nearly every resident of Hollows Bend committed heinous crimes while alive, and we found a record of their deaths with only a few exceptions— Analysis Note: Sordello located the photograph of Riley Sanchez's arm and held it against the glass.

Sordello: Those listed here appear to be victims. Maro: Innocents … Sordello: Innocents. Yes. And all the names on the other girl, the one you called Emily Pridham, are guilty of crimes against others. Analysis Note: A visible shift appeared in the subject's face. He remembered something.

Maro: Not crimes. Sins. They're guilty of sins. Analysis Note: Something else clicked, and he looked up at Sordello.

Maro: How did you get a photograph of Riley's arm? Where is she? Did she survive? Sordello: Riley Sanchez appeared to us in much the same way you did. Three hours ago. We don't know how or why, but she was visible and present for fifty-three minutes before we lost her. Maro: Lost her? Analysis Note: Sordello produced a cell phone. She must have snuck it in with the gun. She loaded up a video and held it against the glass. I don't know how she obtained a copy of the footage, but the memory of what happened was still fresh in my mind.

Sordello: She vanished. First her vitals ceased recording, then visibly, she disappeared. She began to fade in and out over the course of five minutes or so, then disappeared altogether. Analysis Note: I had overheard several people debating this in the hallway before Maro came to us. They felt she "fell out of phase with our visible spectrum." That was how they described it. I don't know any other way to describe it. It began with a slight haze in the air around her in the minutes before she disappeared entirely, and I could see that same haze around Maro. Sordello noticed it, too, because her speech sped up. The man working on the lock also picked up his pace.

Sordello: She's dead. You're dead. All of you are dead. You're in hell, Deputy. More accurately, we believe you are in purgatory and have been for a very long time. The town you know as Hollows Bend doesn't exist in the same reality as the rest of the world. You, and all the other residents, have been dying over and over again. Some horrific repeating cycle. Maro: That's not possible. I've lived in the Bend for as long as I remember. Most of us have. None of this can be true. Sordello: I've got satellite images from as recent as three days ago—there was nothing here. We think something tore a hole. Allowed your world to slip into ours. We don't know what. You're trapped here, being punished for the sins you committed in life. Maro: No. That can't be … Sordello: Look at your hands. Do you see it? Analysis Note: The subject was beginning to fade in and out, much like the girl did. I don't know how it looked to him, but he clearly saw something.

Sordello: Your neck. Touch your neck. Analysis Note: He did, and his fingers came away slick with blood from the wound that had killed him all those years ago. There were stains on his shirt now. They hadn't been there only a few minutes ago.

Sordello: In reality, you and Gabby Sanchez were married and had been for six months when you committed adultery. That was your crime, your sin. The reason you're trapped. Addie coveted a married man. Gabby took her own life. All mortal sins that sentenced you to hell, where you have been ever since. Somehow, your lives have continued there, but it's all part of your punishment. Your personal purgatory. Torture, for lack of a better term. Analysis Note: The man working the lock made some sort of progress; there was an audible click . Sordello fired twice at the glass, striking the lock from the inside. The man fell back, unhurt but frightened. It only bought her a few seconds before he went back to work.

Sordello: [ Speaking faster ] Beneath what you believe to be Hollows Bend, there is a frozen lake. Best we've been able to determine, your souls are there. Trapped indefinitely. Dante described it as the ninth circle of hell. At 6:37 yesterday morning, something punched a hole through to that place. We've since learned it was a large tree. A tree possibly older than time itself. That hole created a tear between the hell in which you exist and our world. The living world. We had the area sealed off, thought we had it contained, when a secondary explosion tore it wide open. Maro: Cody Hill's bomb vest? Sordello: When that bomb detonated there, the rip between these two realities grew worse. We don't know what will happen if it spills over. We're trying to contain it, and we are failing. Maro: This is bullshit. People visit Hollows Bend. They come and go all the time. Every weekend, we probably have— Analysis Note: Shaking her head, Sordello loaded another video on her phone and held it against the glass.

Sordello: We've sent drones through. A handful have managed to transmit video back to us before going down. Analysis Note: I'd seen the video. I knew what was on it. Much like the girl, cars and people vanished as they drove away from town. Just as crazy were the ones that appeared heading toward Hollows Bend—they blinked into existence on their way into town, filled with unsuspecting strangers. Facial recognition software had managed to identify only a few, but it was clear who they were—they were also guilty of terrible crimes and had died in our world. They were now trapped in their own hell. Every last one of them. Like this man—Virgil Matthew Maro—like all the others.

Sordello: We've tried texting. Some messages get through, others don't. We think Stuart Peterson planted the bugs in the sheriff's house. We don't know why or when, but we've been able to listen to them. What takes place there … changes. It's evolving every time you experience it. Maro: I don't understand. Sordello: This isn't the first time you and I have spoken today. It's the third. I know you don't remember, but somehow the events you've experienced in Hollows Bend, what you feel are memories, are repeating. It's like the hell you've been sentenced to is caught in some kind of perpetual loop that changes with each cycle. When that tree fell, something else broke, too, and all of it is getting worse. Last time, you stopped Cody Hill before he could detonate the bombs. This time, you didn't. When you fade from here, we believe you'll go back. You'll be forced to experience it all over again, and whatever happens will be worse than the previous cycle. I need you to do something for me—right now—there's a listening device in the drawer—take it—it's like the others, the ones in the sheriff's house—plant it in Ellie's office. We can use it to monitor your— Analysis Note: The files slipped from the subject's hands, not because he dropped them, but because his hold on our reality had faded to the point where he could no longer hold them. I watched them pass directly through his fingertips before spilling on the floor. He tried to speak, but the wound in his neck had become more pronounced. Blood gurgled from his lips. I realized the man picking Sordello's lock had succeeded a moment before she did, and I won't lie—not even here—if I had the ability to warn her, I would have. Unfortunately, she couldn't hear or see me, and by the time she realized the man had her door open, soldiers were already streaming in. I don't believe she meant to kill the first soldier. When she raised her gun and fired, it was more instinctual; she wasn't even looking. The first bullet caught the man in the temple. The second shot, her second kill, was deliberate. She needed to buy time, and although this only got her a few extra seconds, it was enough for her to say—

Sordello: You need to remember, Matt! You've got to try! You're the only one who can stop it! Only you! And if you don't, this world, the real world — Analysis Note: No less than three automatic weapons fired into Sordello's chamber. Her body jerked and slammed against the back of her chair. Although she was probably dead instantly, they kept firing until their magazines were empty. When I glanced over at the other chamber, the one housing our subject, I realized he was gone. We had lost Virgil Matthew Maro, again. END OF REPORT