We had a close call over the weekend. Outside our motel room, I spotted a suspicious looking vehicle. It was all black but a typical sedan. It should blend in except for the fact it was too perfect. It looked too normal. Like someone was trying to blend in. It sent up a red flag in my mind so I went about watching it from the window of the motel room. I could hear Sarah in the shower but decided not to bother her. There was no visible threat, yet.
Sure enough, after a few moments, I watched two men in suits approach the car in climb inside. They looked like federal agents to me, which meant they weren’t. Whatever we had stumbled on is much higher than the FBI. It’s probably NSA level and maybe even above them. If the FBI were claiming they were looking for us, they were liars.
They talked in their car for a few minutes and kept glancing in the direction of our van. They hadn’t been able to trace it but they obviously had a description. Though, it would still be like finding a needle in a country sized haystack. There is nothing striking about the van on the outside. Anyone looking at it would believe it was merely a van.
But these agents continued to sit there and now their eyes fell upon the motel rooms. I couldn’t tell what they were up to. Maybe they had been staying in the motel the same as us and came across our van by accident. Or maybe it was a tail. There was no way of knowing. But something was definitely off.
I saw the two men nod in agreement and they exited the car. Not wanting to panic, I waited a moment before moving. Unfortunately, they were headed right for our door. The taller of the two men pulled something out of his jacket pocket. It looked like a thin wallet. His badge, no doubt. I didn’t wait any longer to find out.
Busting into the bathroom, I tossed Sarah a shirt and pants, completely ignoring the fact she was standing there in the nude. Luckily, I didn’t have to explain. She threw the clothes on and we grabbed our bags.
Like I had done myself a few months ago, we climbed out a window in the back and made our way down a back alley. There would be no chance of getting back to the van unseen, and not without them chasing us. Instead, we decided to lay low and come back once the coast was clear.
We burned some time walking around a nearby mall and we ducked into a theater, catching a movie. We didn’t have to pay, though. No one was there taking tickets so we just walked right in. It was a nice dark place to lay low and the movie was pretty good. Something about a creepy clown killing kids. Probably not the best thing to watch considering our circumstances.
As we walked back towards the motel, now long after the sun had slipped behind the horizon, I asked “How do we know they didn’t bug the van?”
Sarah shrugged. “We’ll look for anything unusual before we drive away but I guess we won’t know for sure.”
It didn’t make me feel comfortable and I couldn’t believe she was as calm as she was. Something like this was bound to make someone paranoid and stricken with anxiety and yet she displayed such a calm temperament. I admire it.
Nothing stood out to us in the van and we drove off down the road. That was two days ago and I haven’t seen anyone following us. Maybe they didn’t think to bug it. Or perhaps they couldn’t be sure it was ours and left it alone.
Before we left the motel, we gave the room one last check over to make sure nothing was left behind. What we found there was disturbing. No, the room wasn’t disheveled and torn apart like they were looking for something. We didn’t find broken glass and debris everywhere. No, there was merely one thing that shook us to our core. Something that let us know these men meant business. In the center of the bathroom door sat a small hole, about the size of forty-millimeter round, like a peephole. They had not been there to take prisoners. We must be extra careful now.
Sarah and I are following up on a lead. It’s been several days with no clue what to do next. We’ve spent most of our time laying low in rundown motel rooms. It’s interesting what you can get away with if you know how to commit a little credit card fraud.
If our lead pans out, I will have more to tell you. Right now, there isn’t much to say. We’ve been pretty spooked the last week, always looking over our shoulders. I’m sure the authorities are looking for us as I type this. I’ve seen a few unmarked vehicles that seem to be following us but we always lose them. I can’t be sure if it’s real or in my head. I know something is going to chance soon. Something bad is coming and Sarah and I must stop it.
We’re leaving now. Let’s see how this meeting goes.
Truth Seekers, I am alive. I’ve received many emails asking about my safety. I’m very grateful for my followers. Yes, I’m OK. In fact, I have a lot to fill you in on with Sarah Waiter. What she experienced after entering the program is disturbing and terrifying. I’m going to recount her tale for you now, to the best of my ability.
After leaving her notebook in the headstone at the cemetery, Sarah met with her contact for a final time. He walked her through the field and out of the cemetery. To her surprise, they approached a small farm land next to the cemetery.
He led her into a large, tin farm house and to her surprise it was filled with computers, cabinets, and men in suits. The whole thing looked like something out of a spy movie. It seemed to be a bit chaotic inside the command center, for lack of a better term, and Sarah was beginning to get nervous.
The man, who identified himself as Clay, told her to follow him. She did as she was told but had the strong urge to run. Something seemed wrong. Before she could protest, a needle was stuck in her arm and she passed out almost instantly.
When she awoke, her arms were strapped to a chair and she was gliding down a long hallway. It took a moment to realize she had been fastened to a wheelchair. Her vision was still hazy but she could make out her surroundings. White concrete walls stretched on for what seemed like miles. Doors lined each wall and she could see there were little plaques which labeled them. The first few were hard to read with her eyes still blurry but eventually they focused.
The first name she saw nearly made her mouth drop open. Bin laden. Naturally, she began to wonder if she were being held in Guantanamo Bay. I’m not surprised to learn Osama Bin Laden is still alive. The events around his death were far too convenient. He was killed in the fire fight and his body quickly disposed of at sea? Not even so much as a photo to prove the corpse was his? I never believed it. But it does make one wonder what exactly he’s doing there.
But, I digress. Sarah continued her forced journey through the hall. She tried to speak but no words would come out. More name plaques swept past her vision. Kennedy, Thompson, and Snowden to name a few. Snowden is a bit concerning, seeing as he’s still alive, but it’s not hard to imagine they’ve used a body double.
Sarah tried to see more plaques, curious who else they were harboring but they turned a corner and walked through a secure door. She remembers it hissing closed behind them as they made their way down another hallway.
Eventually, they came to a room and she was ushered inside. Several men in suits sat around a largo oak table that shone under the fluorescent lights. They were speaking when she came in but didn’t seem to take notice of her. Sarah was wheeled to an empty place at the table and listened to the men.
“We have most of the world leaders on board,” one man exclaimed from across the table. “Those who aren’t cooperating have already been switched or taken care of.”
“What about North Korea?” Another asked.
“Not yet. They refuse to get on board and it’s proven harder than anticipated to infiltrate but we will.”
“What about the device?” A voice called out.
“It’s ready for when we need it.”
“Are we sure it’s going to work?”
“Absolutely. It didn’t take much effort to convince the world it was really a particle accelerator. Dangle a little science in front of people and they believe anything.”
A few of the men chuckled at this.
Then, something happened that made Sarah’s blood run cold. All the men at the table stopped speaking and turned to face her. They stared for a second almost as if waiting for her to speak. Again, she found she couldn’t. Whatever drug they had given her must have temporarily paralyzed her.
“You still have your part to play,” the man closest to her stated before taking a sip of what looked like brandy. “There’s no turning back now.”
She felt the needle stab her neck and darkness took over her body once again. When Sarah finally woke up, she found herself in the barn house. The men were gone, the equipment missing, the place was empty. Now, she sat wondering about what her purpose was. What part was she supposed to play in all of this.
Immediately regretting everything, she ran home as fast as she could. Her plane was to leave Cottonwood Falls and never come back. She packed up everything she thought she would need, including a pistol she kept hidden in her bedroom. I couldn’t believe I had not found it. I thought I had torn that house apart.
As she drove through town, she realized her face was plastered on missing posters. It made her uneasy knowing she wasn’t missing for long and yet the police were looking for her. She had no family in town that would have reported her missing. So how did the police know?
I told her about the posters in the cruiser before her disappearance and she shuddered. Clearly, she came to the same conclusion as me.
While the sun began to set, she headed back to the farm house to see if anything useful had been left behind. To her surprise, one surveillance van was parked under a small carport in the back of the property. It started right up and she put her things inside.
Before she could leave under the cover of nightfall, no longer feeling comfortable in her own town, she spotted the police car heading to the cemetery. The one that housed me and my would-be killers. Of course, the rest you know. She saved my life and now we’re traveling together. She wants my help to figure out what part she has to play in this terrible conspiracy. I’ve agreed. I mean, I have to. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever come across. I can’t walk away from it now, no matter how dangerous it becomes.
We were able to find the tracking device under the hood. It’s going to take them a lot longer to find us now. And whatever it is they are planning, we’re going to put a stop to it. Keep reading, Truth Seekers. You all may have a part to play before this is over.
It's been over a week since my last update and I'm sure all of you were worried. I'm sorry, but a lot has happened since then. A major hurricane was bearing down on my home state and I felt I should reach out to friends and family to make sure they were safe. Of course, this was risky because the police are still looking for me here in Cottonwood Falls, Kansas. So, I actually walked several miles out of town and found a city called Emporia.
The walk took over six hours and I was exhausted. But at least I was safe from the police around Cottonwood Falls and I was able to get cleaned up and make a few phone calls. My friends back home were worried about the storm but overall, prepared. I'm extremely glad I was out in Kansas this week and not back in Miami. Seems they got hit pretty hard.
But enough about the storm. You all want to hear what I've found in that journal and what's going on in Cottonwood Falls. Well, there's a lot to fill in. I've read the entire journal, cover to cover, twice. I can now confirm this is Sarah Waiter's journal. She uses her own name only once. I assume, to mark that this belongs to her in case something were to happen. Which obviously, something has.
With last weekend approaching, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I learned Sarah had been in contact with some no name guy who was offering her a large sum of money for a special project. You see, Sarah Waiter's was up to her ears in credit card debt, student loans, and every other bill imaginable. If she had filed for bankruptcy, she would have either lost her home or paid for the rest of her life. Naturally, when a stranger rolls into town and offers a way out, she takes it.
They met a couple times in the cemetery, which should have been her first clue that something was off. But, ever determined for a future, Sarah continued. In her journal, she complained of feeling watched in her own home, unmarked cars following her around town, and other eerie happenings. Not to mention, this DG character continued to contact her and told her to leave town while she still could.
Before one of her meetings, she hollowed out the portion of headstone she used to hide the journal. It was a great move because now we have a lead. A big one. The company she was meeting with at that cemetery was called Condon Industries. I did a little digging and it turns out they are nothing more than a shell company owned by another shell company. It would take months to track down the real source.
Sarah didn't know the exact meaning behind the visits with the rep from Condon Industries. They asked her strange questions which seemed all over the place. For example, they asked if she believed in ghosts, had she ever taken narcotics, who was your favorite president, and so on. None of those questions seemed related in any way.
Her final entry in the journal was a bit chilling. She exclaimed she had been chosen for whatever project this company was behind and they would be in contact with her shortly. They told her a car would be sent to her home to pick her up. But she expressed a great fear in this as the company never once asked for identification and she had never given her address. The rep had explained discretion was key to this project but it did nothing to ease her fears. She said goodbye to her friends and family in the journal as she started to believe it was all nonsense and she was marching to her death. But she had to continue for the chance it was real. She hid the notebook in the cemetery and waited for the car to arrive.
Truth Seekers, this is unnerving to say the least. The local authorities were clearly involved so it was likely not a normal scam or kidnapping. Someone powerful must be behind it. But I still can't see a motive here. With no way to look up the real face of Condon industries, there's no trail to follow. But as it turns out, I didn't need to follow those breadcrumbs because I came across something far better.
Monday of this week, I was still in Emporia. I needed to make another few calls to everyone back home to make sure they were fine. Once I was confident they were all OK, I took the long walk back to Cottonwood Falls. I stayed in a bed and breakfast on Monday night and cleaned up. There was a knock at the door and the office manager stood patiently in the hall for me.
"There's something in the front office for you," he told me. He seemed a little nervous. Reluctantly, I followed.
When I came around the corner, the two police officers who had the posters in their cruiser stood in waiting. "Shit," I said and started to run. But it was no use. They had me on the ground and in handcuffs. I thought this would be the end. They would take me to a field and put a bullet in the back of my head.
They drove me away from town and to the god damned cemetery. Dragged across the grass, I tried to kick free to no avail. There had to be a way to get free from these cops and get the hell out of this town. I won't lie, I was ready to drop it all there. I would stop investigating Sarah, I would turn my back on this town, I would be done. If only I could find a way to make it out alive.
Have you ever had the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of your head? In the movies, people look so calm. In reality, it is the most terrifying thing I have ever experienced. You can't see the shooters hand or trigger finger. You don't know if he's about to pull the trigger or not. Every single breath you take could be your last and it's all you can think about. You start to wonder if you'll feel any pain. You wonder what's on the other side. Is it merely darkness? Or is there something more? All the while, you know this small projectile inside the barrel could fly out at a high velocity and turn your brain into mere mush. I tell you, it's the most frightening thing you can imagine.
Lucky for me, that trigger was never pulled. But another was. From the darkness, two shots rang out. The cop with the gun to my head dropped to his knees dead. His finger tensed and the gun went off, sending the bullet, which was meant for my head, into the dirt. The second cop turned toward the shot and he, too, fell dead.
For the second time that night, there was a gun pointed in my face. I was still not used to it. Out of the darkness, a familiar face began to materialize. "What do you know?" The voice screamed. My head was still cloudy, I think shock was setting in. "Tell me what you know!" The voice screamed again.
Truth Seekers, I won't glorify myself here and paint myself in a better light. I fainted. Right there in the grassy field of the cemetery, I fainted. Judge me if you'd like, but if you ever find yourself in the same scenario, tell me how you did. I bet you fair no better. You watch action movies and think you could do it too. But real life is far from fiction. It's scarier. It's real. When the gun is shoved in your face and you see your life flash before your eyes, it becomes surreal.
When I awoke, I was in the back of some kind of van. But it was the van of my dreams. For a moment, I thought I had died and slipped into conspiracy blogger heaven. It looked like an old FBI surveillance van, complete with computer, monitors, and the works. A whole mobile command center. I noticed it before I noticed the driver. We were stopped, no idea where, but she was turned around in her seat staring at me.
"Finally," she said. "You're awake. Now what do you know."
I told her everything that I knew. Including her name. Sarah Waiter. She seemed a little taken aback. But when I told her I found her journal she understood.
"I have to get back to Cottonwood Falls, I need my gear." I said.
"Forget it, your gear is gone." She said. "Another officer already collected it all and destroyed it."
"That can't be-"
"Oh, but it is. You have to accept it and move on."
Eventually I did. Which leads me to now. I'm sitting in the back of the van, typing this post. Sarah has a lot she needs to fill me in on and in time I will fill you in too. But she says we need to get moving now. There's something big we have to do. I'm worried about what I've been caught up in but I will update you as soon as I can. And to think, today is my birthday.
The weekend was spent reading as much of the journal as I could manage. There was some sort of event in town this weekend, probably for labor day, so I had to keep my head down. Ultimately, I didn't get as much reading of it done as I would have liked. But I did find this passage from it:
I was contacted by someone who calls himself DG last night. I don't know what he wants or who he is. I think he might be watching me for some government program. He left a cryptic message about not going west but I have no idea what he means. I can't trust this man. Something doesn't seem right about it all. I'm still moving forward with my previous plans. I won't be scared off that easily.
I am unsure what the previous plans were but there are several missing pages before this notebook. I think the pages might have had important information on them. Of course, there's no chance the pages can be found. They were probably burned or shredded. It would be like finding a needle in the ocean. I won't even waste my time searching.
There was another page I read this weekend that seemed foreboding and disturbing. It read:
The organization contacted me yesterday about the project. I'm still the likely candidate for the test. If I'm picked, my problems will be over. I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens. But I'm confident this is the turning point for my life. DG is getting ever more persistent with the messages. Now I"m being told to stay away from the organization. It's a trick. It has to be.
There's nothing more written on the page. It seems like this DG person is warning them but I can't be sure. Until I know more, I won't trust them either. Seems like it might be a trap to me as well. And who is this organization the notebook talks about? Could they be behind Sarah's disappearance? What experiment are they running? And above all, is this Sarah's notebook? I haven't read anything yet to prove it is.
This mystery deepens the more I look into it. I feel like I've lost my mind already. It's an impossible mystery that can't possible be broken. But I've never been one to back down from a challenge. I'm going to get to the bottom of this no matter what. Keep hanging in there, Truth Seekers. I'm going to go through this notebook some more.
I found something pretty interesting at the cemetery the other night. When I first arrived, it seemed like a waste of time. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary there. Imagine an open grassy field with headstones protruding in lines. That's really all it was. There was no fence around the property, just an open field. Though, there was a arched sign over the entrance held up by two stone pillars.
I walked around and looked at several of the headstones. Many of them were old historic markers. Of course, there were new ones as well. Nothing stood out as odd. But, believing something had to be there, I continued my search.
Four hours, I walked around that cemetery. I must have shined a light on nearly every single headstone. I expected to find one labeled Sarah Waiter. Finally, my break came when I stumbled upon a headstone near the back of the cemetery. It sat under a large tree that swayed in the night sky. I would have walked by had I not noticed the small carving on the bark.
There, against the rough bark, partially illuminated by the moonlight, sat a small carved arrow. It pointed down at the ground and subsequently the headstone beneath it. I wondered who carved the arrow into the tree and thought it had to be Sarah. But now the question was why?
Shrugging my shoulders, I got down on my hands and knees to inspect the headstone. It seemed relatively normal. An average name carved into the stone, which I can't remember now. Running my fingers over the smooth surface, I began to give up hope.
My fingers touched a small notch in the stone on an otherwise smooth surface. I pushed at it with my forefinger and realized it was loose. Like a rotten tooth, I pulled it free of the base. A chunk about the size of my fist came free, leaving behind an open cavity.
You can imagine my shock when I reached my hand in and pulled out a small, brown notebook. It was only about the size of my palm but I knew it had to be important. Pictured below is the notebook I found.
I tried to read some of it while I was there but a police cruise parked outside the cemetery and switched on its searchlight. Thankfully, I was far enough back that he wouldn't be able to see me from the road but I decided not to take any chances.
Sprinting as fast as I could, I headed out of the cemetery and hid a few yards away. I watched as the officer slowly scanned the field before driving away cautiously. I wasn't sure if it was a routine check or if they were looking for me. Either way, I wasn't taking any more chances. So, I headed off down the road and back towards the motel. Of course, this took several hours so when I got back, I tossed the notebook on the desk and flopped down on the bed and fell asleep.
I didn't wake up until around noon yesterday and forgot about the notebook for about twenty minutes. As soon as I remembered, I snatched it up and went through it. Nearly every page was full of writing and some didn't seem to make a whole lot of sense. I really want to go through it with a fine tooth comb. I'm going to read through it carefully and post anything that might be important. With any luck, this notebook belongs to Sarah Waiter but I haven't seen anything pointing to that just yet. I will keep you posted, as always. Thanks for seeking The Truth with me!
I'm fine. I know I didn't update you all yesterday and it got people a little worried. I actually received a few emails asking if I was still alive. Well, yes. I am. Turns out, it wasn't gunfire I heard but a car backfiring. I was so startled by it that I published the post and shut my laptop. Nothing major to report on there.
However, I did figure something significant out yesterday. I pulled up Google maps to study Cottonwood falls. There has to be something shady going on here so I was looking for an odd building or maybe a government facility. I didn't find one. But I did find the answer to the sticky note I found in Sarah's home.
If you recall, she left a note by her phone reading PGC. By accident, I stumbled across a cemetery in Cottonwood Falls called Prairie Grove Cemetery. This can't be a coincidence. Her note has to be referring to it. By my deductions, someone told her about the cemetery while on the phone. Perhaps they were instructions where to go. Or maybe it was a warning where to find her. Or worse, find her body.
Either way, I'll be heading to the cemetery tonight. I know, probably a terrible idea to browse a cemetery at night but going in the day is too risky. The police are still looking for me. I've been monitoring their Facebook page. Whatever happened to Sarah Waiter might happen to me if I'm not careful.
I'll be leaving my gear behind at the motel. It will only weigh me down. But I will update my blog as soon as I'm back safely in the motel. We're close to cracking this case wide open. Whatever the police in Cottonwood Falls, Kansas are up to, they won't get away with it for long. Keep reading, Truth Seekers. I'll have something for you very soon. I can almost sense it.
Truth Seekers, I've said it before but it bears repeating, I'm sorry for my silence. It's almost impossible to get a WiFi signal safely out here. When I use the coffee shop I"m too paranoid the police will finally find me. I've been traveling to local diners and other shops and hijacking their signal. But I don't know how much longer I can do this.
I want to leave this town, but I'm afraid I'm stuck here. The police impounded my car. Luckily, not before I was able to get my gear out. I have a backpack full of my mobile operations center. It's a little heavy but I have no choice for the moment.
Up the road a few miles from Cottonwood Falls is another small town called Strong City. I found a motel there and I've been staying there since last week. It feels safer in a different town. It hasn't made national news, and I doubt it ever will, but I've been named a suspect in the disappearance of Sarah Waiter. Well, not actually me because they don't have my name but they do have an image of me from the police department security cam. Obviously, I've become their scapegoat now.
I checked Sarah's home as promised but there wasn't much there. Of course, Sarah was missing but that's no surprise. I've been trying to figure out what they could have done with her. But because I don't even have an idea for a motive I can't determine what they'd do with her. For all I know, she's dead and buried on some farm somewhere.
I know what you're thinking. My car was impounded so they should have my identity. Well, it's a rental and I didn't use my real credentials when signing for it. I don't need them using my information for their personal gain. But that is besides the point.
Back to Sarah's house. It was a quaint building on the edge of town. A very warm and homey place. At least I assume it's homey. It was dark and quiet when I was there. It would probably be nicer with a host and other people actually in the house.
She seems like an ordinary person. I couldn't find anything unusual. There wasn't even so much as a safe for the police to rob. If she had incriminating evidence on the police, they either had it now or she hid it very well.
The only thing I found was a note scratched on a sticky plastered next to her cordless phone receiver. It read, PGC. I have no clue what it means but I pocketed the note. Hopefully I figure out what it means in the near future. I believe it has something to do with her disappearance. As soon as I found out what, I'll let you know. Otherwise, I think I might lay low in this motel for a little while longer. I'll keep you all pos- Hang on, I think I just heard gunshots.
There's a sweet aroma of coffee filtering through the air as I type this message to my followers, all of you Truth Seekers. Well, the truth the other night was disturbing. I realize I left my last post on a bit of a cliff-hanger, if you will, and I apologize for that. Let me explain exactly what happened.
As I was typing about the flyers now posted around town with Sarah's face plastered on them, there was a small commotion outside. When I checked through the window in my room, I saw flashing blue lights in the parking lot. A man in a tan uniform was speaking to the manager of the motel and I saw them point in my direction. A gut feeling kicked in and told me I needed to get out quick.
Lucky for me, there was not much to grab. After typing the last sentence on my blog, I closed the laptop and slipped out the bathroom window in the back of the motel. Sprinting across the foot bridge I discovered early last week, I hid myself in the brush.
From my vantage point, I could see the officer approach my motel room door. Something curious happened then. He removed his pistol from the holster and aimed at the front door. He knocked loudly and pressed the barrel against the door. Instantly, I knew what was supposed to happen. I was meant to answer the door and he was meant to shoot me.
The officer seemed worried when no one answered. From my hiding spot, I watched as the officer kicked in the door and slipped inside. A few minutes later, he came out of the room talking on his cell phone. Probably taking orders from some sort of handler.
For about an hour, I waited in the bushes and eventually the officer left the scene but I was afraid to go back to the motel. No doubt there was someone watching the place. Going back there would mean certain death. Naturally, I left the area and remained under the radar the rest of the night.
Yesterday was a little tricky. There was a need to get back into my car and get my bag, the one which contains all of my gear. Luckily, the officer at the motel did not take anything. My assumption, he couldn't take anything as there was no crime committed. It tells me that not all of the officers are aware of this conspiracy. Otherwise, they would have taken everything from me.
As carefully as I could, I scoped out the motel. There was a car sitting down the road, a person behind the wheel. They seemed to be watching the motel and I knew I couldn't risk going back. Not at that moment. Instead, I slipped away and headed off down the road, only my laptop in my hand.
Of course, I couldn't find WiFi anywhere safe. Instead, I carefully made my way around town and eventually landed at a baseball field. Unlucky for me, it was only a few blocks away from the police station but I had to take the chance. I needed somewhere safe to stay the night. The dugout was the perfect shelter.
Waiting until night, I curled up under the bench and powered up my laptop. Seeing there was no WiFi available, I shut the laptop and went off to sleep. It wasn't a full night of sleep, mind you. Every little noise made me jump. I probably got about two total hours.
Which brings me to now. When a local coffee shop opened up, I ran inside and bought a coffee and set up my laptop. I can see the police station from here and it seems like the officer who was willing to kill me two nights ago is at work.
I don't know what's going on here but I have a lead now. Sarah Waiter's home needs to be checked out. After I'm finished writing this post, I'm going to head over to her place and see what I can find out. There has to be some clues there to her disappearance. At the very least, I need to figure out who she was and what's so important about her.
In any conspiracy, you must ask yourself a few major questions in order to validate their likelihood. The number one question I always ask myself, who benefits from it? In this case, who wants Sarah gone? That I can't answer yet.
The second question you must ask yourself is what does it accomplish? For example, the events of September 11th, 2001 sparked a war that our government had a high interest in. Not to mention the oil they so desperately wanted control of in the middle east. But in this case, I have no idea what her disappearance accomplishes. In order to find that out I must ask one final question.
Who could be behind it? Well, I already know the local police, at least some of them, are behind this conspiracy. Since it's all I know, I must start there. Knowing who, even partially, gives me a lead towards answering my other questions. I promise, Truth Seekers, I will find out what this accomplishes and who benefits from it. All in due time, though.
For now, I should sign off. There's much that needs to be done before the day is out. Under the cover of night, I plan to return to my car and retrieve my bag of gear. I only hope it isn't being watched. Unfortunately, I can't use my car. At least not for the time being. Hang in there everyone. This conspiracy won't stay hidden for long.
Where do I begin? The happenings in Cottonwood Falls, Kansas are not normal. Something dark is permeating in this town. A few days ago I told you all about the flyers in the police cruiser. I believed they had been taken down like they were hiding the fact Sarah was missing. I couldn't have been more wrong.
The day after my last post, I revisited all of the Sarah's in town. Everyone one of the was accounted for. In fact, I even found the Sarah. Sarah Walters was at home, alive and well. I couldn't explain it then. Maybe she had been missing but was fine now? But surely someone in the town would have mentioned the disappearance. Someone would have told me she had been missing merely a few days ago but was located safe and sound.
I went back to the motel and did a few more internet searches. I even looked up this Sarah on Twitter and Facebook. She was posting like a normal person would, nothing out of the ordinary. Something didn't sit right with everything. It was like I could feel something was wrong but couldn't tell what it was. That was until last night.
I was scrolling through message boards and local websites for the town of Cottonwood. All of a sudden, something popped up on the home page of the local police department's Facebook page. A missing person's case had just been filed. Eagerly, I clicked on the photo and see none other than Sarah Walters. My jaw would not close no matter how hard I tried. It was impossible!
This morning I went into town and saw flyers on every pole. They were the same damn flyers from the officer's cruiser. They knew. They fucking knew about her disappearance before it happened. This wasn't a regular cover-up. This was planning, this was a kidnapping. The police took Sarah, they had planned to take her. Why? I do not know.
Even now, I still feel like I'm in shock. But it begs the question, questions actually. Why Sarah? What are they doing? Where have they taken her? Who planned it? How did word get out before the kidnapping? Was she picked at random or for other reasons? The list goes on and on. I've made a note of all of my questions and I will fill you in as time goes...
Hold on, as I type this something is happening in the parking lot of the motel. It looks like blue flashing lights. I just took a closer look and I have to go Truth Seekers. There's no time to explain it all. I'll update as soon as I can.