Patrick Jenkinson

I'm guessing none of you wanna read a bunch of bullshit about who I was and what led me to end up in the situation I am about to describe, so I'll keep it to the stuff that matters. My name's Ted. About a month ago me and the boys went on a camping trip to a place called Blackriver Point up in the Pacific Northwest. Don't bother trying to Google it, you wont find anything, and I'm sure as shit not gonna tell anyone how I heard about the place. All you "here's a video of my visiting this crazy haunted site" types can look elsewhere, cuz this place is the real deal and I won't have the blood of idiots on my hands. So anyway right off the bat a whole buncha shit seems fucked up about this place from the moment we arrive. There are no signs for it until you're five miles off of paved roads, and when we get there, we find that not only is the lot empty, but there's not even a building to buy your camping pass. Only thing that even lets you know ...

Alright so I'm not totally sure what I should be doing with this, but I've asked around a bit and people keep pointing me to this community. It's probably no the best place in the world for a data leak but it's not like I got Julian Assange's number locked in my phone either. I work for the Sheriff's Department at Elder's Ridge, Montana, doing any small time administrative tasks that they need from me. Most of the time this makes me a glorified secretary but today things are a bit different. You see, we encountered something yesterday that is well beyond the capacities of a county with a combined population of a little over a thousand people, so all of a sudden I've gone from getting coffee to being responsible for digitizing all the documents that appear to be relevant to the events what happened in Fallen Pine. Normally I'd never dream of being one of those people who endangers an investigation by leaking crucial information online, but the thing t...

God, I don't even know where to begin. So much has happened in the past couple days that it feels overwhelming to try and get it all down. I don't hold any more hope for my own existence, but I just have this compulsion to let someone know about what happened. I doubt that many of you will believe me, but I suppose that the best chance I have of winning over those few among you who are inclined to take this kind of thing seriously is to start from the beginning. I work at a little restaurant in downtown Philly. Just off of Arch St if you know the area, though if you do I suggest adding as much time to your commute as it takes to avoid that it at all costs. I don't know if it would have helped if I had taken a different route to work that day, but if you truly believe anything I am about to tell you then you'll understand that no precaution is too great. So anyway, I was riding my bike down Spring Garden yesterday morning, not far from 7 th st, and I guess I wasn'...