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Incident One
Diane, I have just been through a strange ordeal. Not an ordeal by fire, but by imagination. Let me propose a scenario- our organization houses a young girl who has been impregnated by something inhuman, and the only way to keep her from giving birth is to keep her in a constant state of pain and torment. Psychopaths are employed to perform this procedure- the exact details are unknown, save that they are unspeakable. People you trust tell you that this is the only way of preventing something which may very well be the antichrist from entering the world. What would you do?
When this question was put to me by Major Briggs, I said that I would retrieve the girl and take my chances with the antichrist, following which I would burn down the offices of all involved and salt the earth. I hope you appreciate how drastic this statement on my part was, seeing as I consider myself a responsible citizen and opposed to all forms of arson. In any event, Major Briggs was pleased with my answer, saying it was very similar to his own. It is apparently a test put to recruits in all parts of the government dealing with the extra- and paranormal to see whether they can recognize when a leader’s orders have been given under the influence of malevolent intelligence.
I did not ask how many had failed the test. Somehow I doubt any answer would please me.
Incident Two
Our suspect in this disappearance is described by witnesses as over six feet tall, caucasian, well-dressed, and possessed of abnormally long arms. How much of this description can be trusted is unknown; our only source thus far is the notebook sent by Logan’s friend Matthew, deceased, surname unknown. It is possible that the poor man was simply subjected to traumatically-induced paranoid delusions, and his vivid descriptions of same ensnared his friend in what my psychologist friends refer to as a folie a deux. As you know, I pride myself on being open minded, but Occam’s Razor cannot be ignored in this case.
Supposing it is not, and a thin, faceless man has travelled across continents to the desert and back, I cannot help remarking upon his fondness for trees. The desert would not seem to be the ideal place to hide among them; perhaps Matthew merely enjoyed drawing them alongside his tormentor. What an artist he is! Though his medium is stick-figures, he puts all my own efforts at watercoloring to shame.
Diane, a thought occurs to me. What if our slender, tree-loving stick figure is real, but not the direct cause of Matthew’s death and Logan’s abduction? What is he is more of an omen than a perpetrator? If this is the case, I fear for our missing friend even more.
Incident Three
In response to your letter, Diane, I wouldn’t worry too much about your niece. It is likely that her favorite television show does come in, but does so in between bouts of terrible static. Being uninterested in what sounds, from your niece's description, to be a poorly told and even more poorly produced pirate yarn, you did not stay around long enough to find out, but jumped to the conclusion that something must be wrong.
Pirates, Diane. Pirates. In times past they were considered figures of terror. Rapists, murderers, thieves. What has happened in the intervening years? How have they instead become figures of fun? What criminals and figures of public hatred from today will be enshrined in tomorrow’s childrens’ television shows? It really is something to think about.
Incident Four
Diane, I’m standing in the abandoned theme park, following a very determined python. Don’t worry, he isn’t after me. Or she. Possibly she- I’m not really sure how to tell with snakes, and I wouldn’t want to make assumptions. In any case, something is keeping this beast alive, far outside its natural habitat, and I want to find out what.
The phrase “Abandoned by Disney” recurs throughout the building. You would think once would be enough, or even overkill on it’s own. The place is clearly abandoned, without the need for restatement of said fact. Coming up next are the mascot’s dressing rooms. Perhaps these will provide a clue as to what it is our unhappy photographer saw.
Diane, I am currently running at speeds I only wish I could have reached when unsuccessfully trying out for the high school track team. Gunshots have proved futile against angry photo-negative mascots, a phrase I will explain in better detail should I survive. Backup in the form of local police awaits me at the gates, and I pray that by the time I reach them, said mascot will have lost interest and gone back to playing with the python.