Kevin Nguyen, November 2011

I'm not sure where I should start. I know I said I was giving this statement because of Tom's disappearance. But I just… I feel like I should give more information than just what had happened that day in the warehouse.

Tom and I had known each other since kindergarten. He and I didn't always get along but he stood up to a few of my bullies in middle school. After that we became best friends, hard not to be friends with the guy that stopped someone from shoving you into a locker. Anyway… We hung out almost every day. If I wasn't at his house then he was at mine. Our parents pretty much had another kid at that point. His parents didn't really mind if he did well in school but mine were sticklers. If I didn't finish homework or study for tests then I would lose all access to the outside world until I did. Tom was the only exception to that rule. My parents loved him, I think the time spent around him were one of the few times my dad actually smiled about some stupid jokes I told.

Everything happened in our Senior year of High School. We had a big test coming up in one of our classes. I had been cramming all week but nothing was sticking. When I went over to Tom's house to study with him things were just too noisy. We couldn't go to mine either, my little sister wouldn't be able to leave us alone so we went to the library instead. It wasn't abnormal for us to be there,but it wasn't a regular thing either. This time though… Things were just different

It was pouring down rain by the time we reached the library. Ice cold water dropping from the sky. But inside the building was scalding hot, almost like someone set the thermostat to 32℃ and forgot about it. We took our usual place at the back table, ripping our jackets off as quick as possible. Once we were seated Tom just seemed a bit off. He was looking around quite a bit, like he was expecting someone to come from behind one of the rows of books. I had asked him what was wrong, but he just shrugged me off. Told me to focus on math and that was it. His paranoia the entire evening never faltered. We'd finish a line and he would pop his head up to search. Sometimes he'd ask me if I heard something, but the quiet hush of the library would have given away any sort of sound around us.

We were both soaked to the bone in sweat towards the end of our study session. He had kicked me under the table to get my attention. Refusing to make eye contact and looking around again, searching for someone. With a hushed voice he asked if I wanted to see something. It just felt odd, staring at my sweat covered best friend who refused to bring his eyes to mine. So I shrugged, why not? Maybe if he showed me whatever it was he was hiding he would stop acting so paranoid. He smiled at that response, this big toothy grin that didn't fit his face. I was too focused on the off putting look on his face to notice he had dug a book out of his bag and slid it across the table towards me. It was a small book, maybe about the size of a slice of bread just thicker. Whatever material it was bound in had been charred, dark orange peaking out behind large scorch marks. Something in me was screaming not to touch it. I just looked up at Tom waiting for him to explain but was met with his pleading eyes and manic smile.

The book had no title on the cover or spine. Just orange and black swirling together and radiating heat. I didn't want to but I cracked it open just to leaf through the pages at Tom's insistence. The pages were just as charred as the exterior, filling my nostrils with the smell of stale smoke. I… I don't really remember what was inside of the book. There were a few scribbles here and there, maybe a diagram but I couldn't read what was in front of me. The further I delved through the book the hotter the cover felt. At one point I dropped the book on the table below, my fingers feeling like they had just been held over a red hot oven element. Tom had scolded me for being so rough with his odd book, quickly closing it and stowing it back in his bag. We left the library shortly after that and never spoke about the odd heat surrounding that day.

After that day things with Tom had continued to get strange. He got even jumpier, looking over his shoulder for anything that might be following him. He never mentioned that odd book again, and anytime I asked about it he would ignore me. Slowly I watched as my best friend turned into someone I didn't recognize. He lost weight, his cheeks looking hallow and his skin starting to grey. It became noticeable when he had started to sleep less, becoming irritable and demanding that closing his eyes for too long felt like they were melting shut. He no longer wanted to study with me, or spend time with my family and I. He'd shut himself in his room alone, refusing to allow anyone to come inside to check on him.

The morning of his disappearance his mother called me. She was concerned that he was spending too much time alone. She had asked if I would be willing to come over, maybe take him to an arcade or something to get him out of that room. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end during that call. Something in my mind was screaming to tell her I was busy. But before I could talk myself out of it I told her I'd be over as soon as possible. When I got there she lead me to his door, claiming that everyone would be out for the day so we'd have the house to ourselves. She put a bit of change in my hand, begging me to take him somewhere else before she turned and walked out of the house. That was the last time I ever saw her.

I knocked on Tom's door and he hadn't answered. I could hear some hushed muttering from inside so I decided to just let myself in. Reaching for the door knob was a mistake. It was hot, burning my palm on contact. Some of the skin sloughing off when I pulled my hand away cursing under my breath. The noise of my pain caused the door to rapidly open. Standing in the doorway was Tom, shocked to see me but uncaring of the way I was holding my hand. That same manic smile started to creep across his face. He didn't even utter a hello before asking me again if I wanted to see something. I don't know what came over me. Once again that same voice in the back of my head was screaming to say no, just turn around and leave. But I nodded slowly, whispering a scared yes as his smile spread somehow wider, every tooth on display.

Before I knew it he was grabbing me by the wrist, pulling me out of the house behind him. His palm was warmer than it should have been. I was just thankful that it wasn't another thing that could burn me as I hurriedly followed him. We walked for what felt like an hour towards the outskirts of town. He had pulled me to one of the old abandon warehouses, never letting go of my wrist the entire time. The warehouse looked like it had been condemned, I think at one point it was used to make cement. It was fenced off, a big no trespassing sign hanging crookedly on the chain-link in front of us. Tom had let go of my wrist, walking up to the fence, on a mission to ignore the sign and let himself in. He peeled back a part of the fence, like he had done this many times before. He looked back towards me, willing me to follow through the newly created hole. I should have turned around, told him we should leave and never come back but I couldn't leave my best friend here alone. So with fear choking me I followed him through the fence and into the warehouse.

Inside was just as old and condemned. There were large pieces of equipment laying around, bags of cement laying on pallets left abandoned for years. At the far end of the warehouse was a large cylinder. Tom was stomping towards it, insisting that what he wanted to show me lay nearby. My steps slowed as we got closer to that large cylinder. I hadn't realized how big it was until we were standing an arms length away. Tom turned to me,

"There" he whispered pointing at what looked like an opening to the cylinder.

"Its just inside, only a few more steps."

He started to stalk towards what looked like a doorway, pulling it open to reveal a long tunnel of dangling chain caked in dust and dried mud. He turned back to look at me again with that crazed smile plastered on his face. This time though I swear his eyes were pleading with me to stop him, like they knew something was about to happen.

He once again grabbed my wrist, pulling me with him. I tried to get away this time, I didn't want to follow into the dark depths of that chain filled hall. Pulling me in we started walking. It felt like we were traveling inside this tube for hours, traversing over chain and dried mud. Like it was a never ending cave and if we tried to leave we'd never find our way out. At one point Tom let go of my wrist. I froze immediately, stuck in place as I watched my friend travel even deeper into the dark alone.

I'll never forget the moment he was out of sight. The sound of his screams as they echoed off the walls. Heat starting to radiate towards me, growing hotter with every passing second. The chain Tom had just walked passed moments ago starting to glow red hot, the color creeping my way. While listening to the screams bouncing around walls I was able to kick away the fear that kept me frozen in place. Knowing I couldn't help Tom I turned around, running as fast as I could through the chain and dark in front of me. Once I finally reached the end I looked behind me in time to see him. Stood much closer to the edge of the cylinder than I remember was Tom. He was screaming, his face etched with that manic smile, his eyes blackened and missing. I- I didn't know what to do. My body frozen once again. I couldn't move a muscle, watching while Tom vocalized his death and melted into the chain below him. At one point it was like he was made of wax, his skin slowly dripping from his skull only to evaporate before it could hit the floor. When he started to reach for me I slammed my eyes shut. I knew I couldn't help him even though I wanted to. I'm not sure what was worse. Hearing the person you just spoke to moments ago cook alive; screaming as the last rush of air escapes his lungs. Or knowing why the silence followed shortly after the heat began.

I only opened my eyes when that intense heat started to dissipate. The person in front of me no longer existing. Everything after that felt like a fever dream. Somehow finding the strength I left that warehouse. I didn't know who to tell about what I just witnessed, or if they would even believe me. I decided to walk home, making it there in record time. Inhaling my first breath of air in what felt like hours I broke down. I cried while I told my parents what happened to Tom. They didn't believe me no matter how much I plead that it was the truth. My mother had sent me to my room for trying to scare them with such a disturbing story.

Tom never showed up to school the following week. His entire family had been reported missing shortly after. It's been years since the incident involving my best friend. While Tom ceased to exist my life continued on. I finished my college degree, even got to marry the love of my life. I learned how to not think about the sounds of his last breath escaping him that day. Trying my best to avoid anything hot, never wanting to be reminded of the feeling of that ravening warmth against my skin. I hoped that whatever got to him wouldn't decide to come for me as well.

Things were going so well. My wife and I just bought a new home, excited to pack up our old apartment. Our move went smoothly. Well…mostly. I often felt like someone was watching me while I packed. Feeling as if there was something hiding in the shadows, planning the perfect time to pounce. Packing up the last box I found something tucked away behind various books on a small shelf. I knew what it was before I even touched it. Sat hidden in my own home was that charred orange book. The same book Tom showed me in the sweltering library years prior. I never opened it, afraid of what would happen if I did. But I know it was the same book. I could never forget that stale smoky smell permeating from it's pages. I made sure that my wife never found it, stashing it away in a box she would never open. I planned to destroy it eventually, but I just can't will myself to do so. So now I'm just waiting for that heated fate to take me. It's for the best if someone has a record of what happened. I can feel the paranoia getting worse, the unbearable blaze will come to collect soon.

[𝗘𝗡𝗗]

ARCHIVAL NOTE: The warehouse mentioned by Mr. Nguyen is an abandoned cement plant. The investigative team assigned to the incident noted that inside the plant stood multiple large Rotary Kilns, used for pyroprocessing. During the investigation period one Investigator noted the largest Kiln had been left ajar. Photos of the interior of this kiln show small shadowed faces melted into the chain inside. The Kiln being much to large to acquire and store properly in the institute was left behind, a small portion of chain taken as a sample. The Cement Plant closed abruptly in 1964 after an incident injuring four Kiln Engineers and claiming the life of a fifth shortly after. No known records on these incidents are salvageable.

In attempt to collect a follow up statement investigators were unable to reach Mr. Nguyen. Police reports show that shortly after giving his statement Kevin Nguyen and his wife Tracydied in their sleep due to smoke inhalation after their new house caught fire that night. No known cause for the fire was found. The orange charred book mentioned has yet to be reclaimed.Head Archivist █████m̶̞̣̤̍́̓̓██ C̷͚̫̬̓̍̃͛͘ theorizes it could be a Leitner, though the remaining books have been thought to be destroyed after The Change.

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