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The following entries belong to the memoirs of John Rice, a man who embarked on a disastrous expedition in an uncharted mountain the Himalayas.
Today, I am embarking to a previously unknown mountain in the Himalayas. With me are 4 other men, Bruce, Mike, Paul, and Dan. They are some of the most skilled adventurers, however, I still feel nervous about climbing a mountain who's height rivals Everest.
We are ascending up the mountain. We have made it about 13,000 feet up. We have decided to set up out camp for the night until we resume hiking tomorrow morning. It is very cold up here.
Temperatures can be as low as minus 15 fahrenheit. We have plenty of water and food, but just barely enough oxygen. This worries me. The other hikers seem to be getting along fairly well. Only a few fights have broken out, but even then, the fights have been resolved quickly.
It is early morning. We have continued hiking, but have ran into a blizzard. However, we have made it up to about 20,000 feet. It is extremely cold now. The temperatures have been dropping slowly. Our oxygen supplies are diminishing slowly. The hikers have been becoming paranoid. I just want to get off this damned cold mountain.
When we awoke today, it was to our horror that Dan had gone missing. There were no slashes in his tent that could indicate that he got carried off, however his tent door was open.
We have no idea how. Paul, Dan's closest friend, is beside himself with anger. He clames that he could hear a low roaring screeching sound last night. It was probably the wind. Paul insists that we search for Dan. The men have become even more paranoid and afraid. We will set out searching for Dan, for the weather today is, quite surprisingly, clear.
Dated 1-9-06, after search
We found no trace of him. Paul is very angry. He wants to know why we gave up. I told him it was because we couldn't find him. He lashed out, and I punched him back. It quickly escalated into a full scale fight, and Bruce and Mike had to physically brake up the fight.
Dan hasn't spoken to me since. The only person who I can rely on is Mike. He has been my friend the whole expedition. Bruce is not exactly the friendliest guy alive. The temperatures have gotten colder and colder. It is now minus 30 Fahrenheit. We are unable to descend this hellish mountain due to the viscous weather and lack of oxygen supplies. My men are now suffering pneumonia and frostbite. Trust me, frostbite hurts like hell.
The worst possible thing happened. Mike has gone missing. I hope that whatever keeps taking them away fucking dies. We cannot look for Mike because our oxygen supplies are at an all time low and there is a huge blizzard. We tried numerous times to call a rescue team, however all our phones have ran out of batteries. How this happened is a great mystery. The temperatures are still cold as hell.
The pneumonia is weakening me.All the remaining men have gone insane due to paranoia. Bruce is currently in his tent, locked in the fetal position. Paul has gone all out batshit crazy. He cut his own hands using a survival knife and wrote "The Takers are coming" over and over again on his tent wall using his own blood. I assume the Takers are what keeps taking my fellow hikers away. Fuck you, Takers.
Last night, Bruce went missing. We swear we could hear him screaming bloody murder as he got assumedly carried off. His tent's door was open, just like Dan and Mike's was. Now it is only Paul and I. We probably have just enough oxygen for both of us, now that the bulk of the expedition has been carried off. Why have I retained my morality and not gone insane like they did? I just don't know.
Perhaps I have a strong mind. That just may keep me alive, if the pneumonia doesn't kill me. The illness is making me weak. Paul is barely alive. He is still in the fetal position, shivering and muttering gibberish. I think an appropriate name for this mountain would be Hell Mountain. I wonder if the Takers are an actual entity or just the personification of cold and insanity, which has taken us.
Paul is gone.
It is cold. I am almost out of oxygen. I feel myself slipping into insanity. I fear The Takers. I fear the cold. I fear going insane. This diary is all I have. I can no longer eat.
the Takers are coming the Takers are coming the Takers are coming the Takers are coming the Takers are coming the Takers are coming the Takers are coming the Takers are coming
Two days later, a rescue team was sent to the mountain. Worried about how the expedition had not contracted them, they found their camp, about 20,000 feet up. The whole place was frozen over. No trace of any of them. They found John's diary. The Mountain was appropriately named Hell Mountain.