I Found A Journal From Someone Who Worked On An Oil Rig And The Entries Are Freakishly Disturbing

November 8th: 1 AM

There’s not many of us left, now. Me, Bill, Ed, Doug, and a handful of other men who, god help me, I’m still not familiar with. I feel like, at this point, what the hell does it matter. We’re all dead men. May as well come to terms with it, each on our own.

It took Ed, Bill, and I a long while before we did anything but sulk in our anger and despair. Doc and Pete were gone and we were dead in the water. Almost literally. It was Ed who tried to rally us again as best he could.

Ed: “We… we have to get back to the living block. Make sure…”

Bill: “What fucking difference does it make, Ed? The Doc’s gone, the sub’s gone. Without those goddamn fairleads or the mooring lines, we’re fucked. Even if it wasn’t just the hurricane, we’ve got that thing down there! You don’t think it’s gonna’ hit us again?”

Ed: “We have to…we have to…”

Bill: “We have to what, Ed?!”

Me: “Bill, lay the fuck off! Ed’s just trying to stay alive. Don’t you want to live too, asshole? Or do you want to just give up and take a swim?”

I stood between Bill and Ed. Poor Ed seemed like he was still in shock. Bill’s anger defused and he ran his hand through his hair roughly.

Bill: “Shit Ed, I’m sorry.”

Ed nodded.

Me: “Let’s just…regroup with the others.”

The three of us started to push through the storm via the narrow corridors of pipes and rails in the drilling module. We were close to the living block when I noticed the distinct sound of helicopter blades cutting through the wind and rain. The three of us rushed towards the helipad. It was still another deck up and all the way on the northeast corner of the rig.

By the time we got there, the bird was already in the fucking air. It was packed tight with crewmen. Ed was shouting something about not believing Steve would go up with so many men in these winds. I’ll say this much for Steve, that helicopter rose through a constant beating in the air. It wavered through the sheets of heavy rain and hail like a bloated fly on a gust of wind. He managed to keep her in the air for almost 30 seconds before he lost control.

The massive helicopter flipped over almost completely on it’s back. It immediately doubled back towards the rig. Ed, Bill, and I turned and ran. Steve must’ve tried to hard right her, because the bird just barely missed us. The tail propeller cut right across the top of the upper deck, maybe three feet to my left. It was so fast, that all I could do was watch it as it screeched past me, leaving a trail of sparks. If it had been three feet to the right, I’d have been a big red mess of blood and guts on the platform.

The copter dipped up to gain a little altitude again, but not quickly enough. The tail caught the shaft of the crane and it snapped like it was fiberglass. The helicopter spun wildly in the wind. I don’t know how I could’ve made anything out over the storm and the sound of the copter’s engine and propeller, but I swear I heard those men screaming. The copter went tumbling into the 40 feet waves and it was swallowed up. Within seconds, it was tossed back out by the force of the angry ocean. I know I heard the men screaming that time, just to be hushed by the crashing waves again. And again, the mangled copter was tossed out of the ocean, this time some of the men being flung out. They were like fleas being shaken from a dog. I could barely stand to watch, but I also couldn’t look away. I peered down over the edge of the rig. It looked like a few of the men were actually managing to make a desperate swim for the rig. It was insanely dangerous. So easy to be slammed against the spar hull and knocked out or just plain killed, but…there was a chance to grab a chain or ladder.

I could see a trail of three men, being bashed and thrown by the waves, but doing their best to make it from the wreckage to the spar. I could barely make them out in all the cluster fuck of the hurricane, but I could tell Kevin was the one closest to making it. I hadn’t even noticed Bill was standing next to me the whole time until he finally spoke and pointed towards the wreckage.

Bill: “Oh no.”

I followed his finger and saw light circling under the water where the helicopter was still being tossed back and forth. There was more than just one light now, though. It was a row, with the brightest at the front. It must have been 40 feet long, maybe longer. With all the light in the water, you could see the deep red blood start to cloud up and get lost in the black waves. God, it was fucking feasting down there. And it must grow brighter when it does. God help me, I was mesmerized in the most disgusting way. I snapped out of it when the lights stopped circling and headed towards the rig. It was so intensely fast. I watched it pull the first two men under before I even had a chance to yell down to Kevin. He didn’t seem to hear me, but he did look up. Just as he did, the row of lights flashed below him, and he was gone. Barely enough time to yelp in pain before he was pulled down by his legs and silenced under the water.

I fell to my knees at the very edge of the platform. I had no words for the horror I was witnessing. Bill put his hand on my shoulder, and he looked like he was holding back the urge to vomit. We pulled ourselves together, reminded of our situation by the relentless storm. We head back to the living block again.

I know what angler fish are, but what kind of angler fish grows that big and gets inside your fucking head? Maybe it’s a creature man has never seen before. We’re so far out here in the sea. Shit, it’s almost 5,000 feet to the floor just where our rig is. There’s a trench only 50 miles away that’s so deep we don’t even have a clue how far it goes. I’ve heard that weather like this will bring… “things” out from the depths. The water gets to just the right pressure and temperature, and they venture out to hunt things they’ve never hunted before.

Whatever this thing is, it’s been down there evolving for millions of years to kill and eat whatever it wants, whenever it wants. Somehow, it emits its persuasion into its prey. It can lure its victims straight into its anxious fucking grin. I don’t know…this is all just my bullshit theories, waiting here for it to finally get us. All I can do now is write everything down. Write it all down and wait for whatever end I have coming.

beetlejuice

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