June 12th – Sunset Inn Recording Studios
The silence hummed. Cicadas rasped a discordant symphony outside, but the air within the studio was thick and suffocating, the musty scent of neglect clinging to every surface. Dust motes waltzed in a sunbeam slanting through a fractured skylight. This was my haven, the hallowed ground where I’d capture the whispering soul of the wilderness. Johqu Bogart, wilderness sound archivist, at your service.
June 17th – Journal Entry
Scratch that. Haven’s more like a mausoleum. Found a box of tapes labeled “Cosmic DJ.” Creepy moniker for a wildlife recording, right? Intrigued. Popped one in – a cacophony of static punctuated by rhythmic bleeps and bloops. Then a voice, distorted, speaking a language that sent shivers down my spine. Not French. Not English. Not anything I recognized. Folklore speaks of Djinn trapped in the lake, of lost Merovingian treasures. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.
June 19th – Glitch Art Discovered
Bingo. Found a video file labeled “Floating.” Curiosity gnawed at me. Opened it. Shaky footage. A figure paddling a canoe across Chateaugay Lake’s oily surface, techno music throbbing in the background. Distorted, glitchy, like a record skipping on the edge of reality. Played it again. This time, the world shimmered. Colors bled, sounds warped. A low hum resonated in my skull, a subliminal itch I couldn’t scratch.
June 20th – The Daydream (or Nightmare?)
Woke with a gasp, sweat clinging to me like a shroud. Memories, fractured and febrile, assaulted me. Paddling through an inky void, the techno pulsing like a deranged heartbeat. A colossal stone structure materialized on the shore, moss-covered and ancient. Inside, a hulking figure with eyes like burning embers (Wendigo, whispered a voice in my head) and a cloaked figure chanting in an unknown tongue (Shaman? Templar ghost?). Then, a blinding flash. Nothing.
June 21st – Reality?
The studio looks… different. Edges blurred, shadows stretched like grasping fingers. Was that a growl I heard in the woods? My head throbbed, a kaleidoscope of images flickering behind my eyes. Is this the wilderness whispering back? Or am I losing my mind, piece by fractured piece?
June 22nd – Notes to Self
Dear Johqu (because frankly, at this point, who else can I trust?),
Don’t listen to the voices in the static. Don’t paddle into the black. Don’t trust the glitching techno. But for the love of all that’s sane, figure out what the hell “Floating” means. It’s the key, I can feel it. Or maybe it’s just the static messing with me. Ha. Funny, right?
June 23rd – The Encounter
The studio walls pulsed with an otherworldly light. A figure coalesced in the center – a swirling mass of colors, its voice a chorus of distorted whispers. The Cosmic DJ. My heart hammered against my ribs.
“Welcome, Johqu Bogart,” it rasped. “You’ve stumbled upon something you shouldn’t have.”
Dark humor, my only defense. “Yeah, well, thanks for the captivating nature documentary, DJ Spooky.”
The figure pulsed with something akin to amusement. “The key lies between worlds, Johqu. Decode the symbols, unravel the glitch. But be warned, the line between reality and… something else… is thinner than you think.”
June 24th – The End (or is it?)
The studio is silent. Empty. The air feels… lighter. Did I… win? Escape? Or am I trapped in a glitching reality, forever paddling through a techno nightmare? The echoes don’t speak French anymore. They whisper something else, something ancient, something I can’t quite understand.
Maybe that’s the point.
What mysteries of Chateaugay Lake haunt you?