29-04-2020

Why the hell did I agree to this? Dave and I thought it would be a bit of a laugh to join these flat earth idiots, now we're stuck out here in Antarctica, freezing our balls off attempting to prove the ice wall barrier of a disc shaped earth. We must have been fucking high.

I hate the cold; no scratch that, cold is like a summer's evening here. No, what I hate is the freezing of your extremities in this white hell. Oh, and speaking of which all this damn white for miles plays tricks with your mind, you see things that aren't there. When I'm up on deck taking in some air, I'm constantly tricked into seeing impossibly huge mountains shimmering in the Arctic sun. I really wish the team would just cut sailing the coast of Antarctica short (to try and prove it's one 60K wall of circular ice and snow) and get us back to somewhere more civilised. We can't even leave the ship due to the stupid Antarctic Treaty.

Additional: There's some commotion happening on deck - nothing new here, we're all a little stir crazy. Suppose I'd best go check it out.

30-04-2020

Dave is dead. I'm ... I don't know.

He was found in the gym slumped over an exercise bike; his Chicago Cubs hoodie soaked in blood. One of the deck hands was found with gore drenched hands bashing his head against a ladder stile. He's locked away now in the brig, but the Captain can't get any sense out of him; he just keeps mumbling the same incoherent phrase over and over. His eyes though are bulging, staring into something the rest of us can't see.

That's not all, other members of the expedition have gone bat-shit. Jane has stripped off all her clothes and is now frozen to the deck rails screaming at the wall of ice; she'll be dead soon. Engineers came tearing out of the engine deck as if chased by some unseen foe and threw themselves into the waters. Captain Hollister has been trying his best to contain the situation but it's completely insane here.

I've locked myself in my cabin, I'm scared.

01-05-2020

Power has gone on-board the ship; I'm having to use battery torches to generate enough light for continued writing. The screaming stopped an hour ago but I hear things, inhumanly wet noises in the corridors. There's a smell in the air a salty rotting scent. Every time I catch it my stomach heaves.

I hope one day someone finds what remains of us, I'm going to leave this journal somewhere easy to discover as it may shed some light on any future investigation. There is more going on here than just a shape of the earth conspiracy, something otherworldly and beyond the sanity of mortal man.

I'm not getting out of this alive I know it; I think it's now a question of the manner in which I choose to die …