In the Quiet of the Night

December 16^th, 2011

1:48 AM

There is no rest for me tonight. Outside, the wind howls with yet another winter storm; here, in this remote cabin the university has so graciously afforded me, I find the gale closely resembles the sound of a woman screaming. It is maddening to toss and turn like I have, so preoccupied with falling asleep that the effort itself is what is keeping me awake. So I return to these pages once more, a man half-crazed with exhaustion – yet the impulse to record these musings jolts the energy to my bones that is so strangely absent during waking hours.

This morning I found a new set of tracks going past my front door; closer inspection indicated it was a quadrupedal creature, and traveling fast. I couldn’t help but wonder if the animal had survived the night – this wilderness was like none other I have studied in before, being so barren and cold and dark. To my knowledge, the only predators out here are bears and wolves; the former of which should be hibernating. Photos were taken, observations noted and uploaded accordingly. My venture into the surrounding woods had been fruitful as well; the subtle signs of life had whispered all around me, bracing themselves for the coming storm. The piney branches reaching heavenward, gathering what sunlight they could; the bark of the Aspen, stripped repeatedly by what was likely a herd of deer; the shrill call of a hawk, circling patiently as it sought out its dinner. The wonder of nature, even in the dead of winter. It seems the world never truly sleeps.

My own dinner had been a heated can of chili and several pieces of French bread, smothered in butter. The supplies come every two weeks and I am learning how to ration them, without allowing the fresh produce to go to waste. I suppose in a way I should be grateful for this solitude, for this chance to study over the holiday break, so that I may record and publish my findings in next semester’s journal. Even so; it can get eerie at times. Especially when I cannot sleep.

Before making another futile attempt at slumber, I feel the need to record one puzzling aspect of today’s trek, as I am certain it will fade from my memory in time. Upon my return just before sunset, I found what looked to be initials carved into an Aspen tree, not more than twenty yards from my front door. I am positive it was not there when I first left…the sloppy letters resembling an M and an E were just about the size of my hand and surely, I would have noticed when I first headed out? Either that or I was so preoccupied with the journey to come that I simply passed right by it. I could see the letters when I turned to look from my front door. Bizarre…but intriguing. Perhaps I have a neighbor.

December 18^th, 2011

11:17 PM

The storm lasted straight through the past two days, making any travel impossible. Outside my window it has been nothing but a wash of white; the world gone quiet, blank as canvas. I have attempted to head to bed early, but to no avail. Being cooped up within these four walls has not done me any favors, I’m sure. My body is restless but my mind entirely preoccupied with my lack of progress, the halt of my work, and a single streak upon my only window. I had discovered it upon waking this morning and – this must be the isolation – I have been fascinated by it all day. The window adjacent to my front door had a line drawn in the frost down its dead center, about a foot in length, as if someone had pressed their finger to the icy glass outside and swiped downward. It brought dim recollections of me doing this as a child, except I would draw stick figures or write my name.

Did someone come up to my window? I have tried to make reasonable assumptions: perhaps a chunk of snow had fallen from the roof and grazed the glass on its way down. Or maybe the wild wind had blown something against my window and I just hadn’t noticed. But a quick assessment had proved neither of these things were possible, as the snow beneath the pane was as smooth as the landscape – white, white, white. No pile of dislodged snow, no foreign object laying atop the powder. I have settled on the likelihood that whatever it was is buried beneath the drifts, as the accumulation has been swift and steady while the storm rages on.

I stay awake tonight now wondering…what else may the snow have hidden?

December 19^th, 2011

2:17 AM

A snowman! These writings are becoming a habit of mine now; I’m not sure why, but I feel most inclined to pen my thoughts as the night slips into the wee hours of the morning. This night I am more justified in it, I think, after the events of this morning. I was gladdened to see that the storm had finally abated upon waking, and so I had made a foolhardy effort to shovel what path I could outside my front door. The process was slow-going, and I was so preoccupied with my task, I had failed to notice the latest addition to my wintry landscape. I had thought at first I was hallucinating, that the sunlight’s glare against the snow was hindering my vision; but no. Situated just by the tree that bore the mysterious initials was a snowman facing my small dwelling. The sight of it, and even thinking of it now, makes my heart drop.

Someone is out here in this wilderness with me, someone who no doubt finds these small intrusions on my privacy quite entertaining. Even now I cannot make sense of it; there are no neighborhoods nearby, no cities, no easy means of transport. My study on the habitats of local Alaskan wildlife had deemed it necessary that I would be placed quite literally in the middle of nowhere. The possibility of campers in this wildland, at this time of the year, simply did not seem possible.

I have decided the most likely culprits are my homebased team back in Anchorage who ensure my supplies will be delivered to me. I cannot imagine why Mac or Leslie would think this is funny, but it’s the only thing that makes any sense. They are the only other humans I know for a fact were out this way just a few days ago to drop off my latest load. I do not want to sit here and dwell on how this could be, where they’re staying, or why. I can barely sleep as it is. As soon as I saw the snowman grinning cheekily with his pebbled mouth, some powerful sort of rage had come over me, and I had barreled through the snow just to knock his head off. If Leslie or Mac think this is funny, well, the department head will be hearing about this. They never struck me as so unprofessional.

From where I sit now, I can just make out my newly decapitated friend. It seems silly, but I feel a sense of satisfaction that I had gotten them back, as petty as it is. Maybe now I’ll be able to get some sleep.

December 19^th, 2011

11:11 AM

It’s back. I don’t know how this is possible, but the damned thing is back. I woke late this morning, sleep-deprived as I am, and went about my usual routine before heading outside to begin my hike into the nearby woods and there it was, head back in place. I don’t know how this happened – no one has been here. I’m sure of it this time, because there are no tracks in the snow. Let this record show that I didn’t dream any of this.

December 20^th, 2011

2:56 AM

I will not be sleeping tonight. I am keeping guard, with only my raging thoughts and endless cups of coffee to keep me company. Whoever is doing this is not going to be allowed to continue. I cannot sleep, cannot focus, cannot relax. Harmless prank or no, this is having a vast disadvantageous effect on my studies and I will not allow it to go on. Even as I write this, I pause every few moments to glance out the window and ensure that damned snowman is not standing. I destroyed it earlier today, after I got back from my journey. A snowman cannot build itself. So I will sit here, all night if I have to, until I catch the culprit in the act. I’ve given it some thought and realized that it would certainly be feasible for Mac, Leslie, or even Dimitri – maybe all three of them – to be camping out somewhere nearby. It’s entirely possible, even in subzero temperatures; I’ve heard some of the locals do it with state of the art (and extremely expensive) camping gear. Why they would go to such extremes is beyond me, and it’s taking everything within me to not call the university first chance I get.

There’s only one thing I do not understand though. The other instances…it was easy to trace back the lack of evidence to the storm, and the consistent snowfall. For the life of me I cannot figure how they did it this last time around without leaving any footprints. And in the middle of the night too? Is that really how far they’re willing to go for a stupid prank?

God, I need some sleep. My mind is a jumbled mess. Once this is all figured out, I’m going to sleep for an entire day.

December 22^nd, 2011

12:59 AM

Every time I knock it down, its back. Its back, and I never see or hear ANYTHING. I called the university today, finally fed up, and I was informed that Leslie had been out sick for a week, and Mac was visiting family for the holidays. Dimitri was accounted for too, though I had stopped listening when they told me that. Someone is out here…someone is watching me, taunting me. The snowman stands guard no matter how many times I knock him down, so I’ve stopped trying. His daily resurrections have completely unnerved me and I feel like I have to get out of here. But there’s another storm here tonight, a big one, and I am effectively trapped for the next few days. My studies have ceased. My mind, and my cabin, is a mess. I do not feel safe here. This journal has become my only solace.

The wind is howling once more and earlier tonight I could do little else but stare into the darkness, the breath coiled in my throat, waiting for the door to open or the window to shatter or some ghostly apparition to appear by my bedside. I wonder now if the isolation is driving me mad? If I am somehow…imagining all of this? I have read up on and heard of such things happening before. The cold, the dark, the solitude – these things play tricks on our primate minds. And even in that vein, I cannot explain the fear I suddenly have. These pranks have been harmless, as unnerving as they are. They bear no real threat, and yet – the eeriness of it has sunk into my bones, into my subconscious, so that even in the rare moments I finally fall asleep it is all I dream about.

Damn it all…I am afraid.

December 25^th, 2011

12:00 AM

I have seen something I cannot explain – it defies description, defies logic, defies all laws of God and man. God help me, God help me, I do not know what to do –

The door is barricaded, and the storm has knocked out my power. It’s circling around my cabin now seeking a way in and no doubt it will succeed – oh God, the sounds it makes is like something from the gates of hell –

Whoever finds this must know the truth of what is out here. Forget all that you have been told, because what I am seeing will haunt me to my dying breath. It’s at my door, it’s here! The photos and documentation are in my