Diary of an Area 51 Worker

January 14th

2 weeks into my transfer to the ‘real Area 51’, and I’m starting to realise why they don’t want anyone to find this place. I’m still recovering from the flight – it took three days for everyone on that plane to get back to normal. The Bermuda Triangle is no joke, I really thought I was going to die when those alarms started sounding. No memory after that, not until I woke up in that dreadful white room. They said that’s the ‘normal’ way of getting here, through the Triangle. I don’t know why a boat isn’t good enough.

‘Here’ is an island in the centre of the Atlantic ocean, between America and Europe. I’m not sure exactly how big the place is – the compound I’m staying at is easily twice the size of the old one in Nevada, and I’ve only just began exploring.

Last night we were all woken up by the ‘Experimental Suite’. The alarm was going off for over an hour and was so loud that a few windows cracked from the vibrations. It was weird, even the floor felt like it was moving with each pulse of sound. We were asked to fix the problem, which is usually fairly easy, but they wouldn’t let us anywhere near the building for some reason. It took so much longer than necessary to shut it off and let everyone get back to sleep. They were really harsh about it too, as if it was our fault that the stupid alarm was blaring all night. We don’t know much about what’s going on inside – someone said they’re experimenting with reptiles, but they were told to stop bothering us and I haven’t seen the guy since.

I’m hoping to spend some time this week getting to know the place. I know I’m only here for a few weeks as a transfer while they find a permanent replacement. It’s hard to find people who want to work out here full time – no family or friends to miss, no communicating with the rest of the world, its tough. Laura freaked out when I told her I’d be gone for 2 months and asked so many damn questions, but she knew what I do for a living when we first got together and knew the problem of a job like mine. I’m going to plan a big vacation for us when I’m back home, to make up for being away for so long. I wish I could talk to her.

February 2nd

We were all told to attend an event in the labs yesterday. The scientists were unveiling their newest experiment and wanted a crowd to show off to. I think that was probably a mistake on their part, though they probably didn’t expect it to go so badly. I’m not sure they were expecting to happen when they lifted up that curtain, but three people from the front row lost limbs and fourteen of their ‘subjects’ are still missing, crawling around the compound somewhere in the dark. Why they decided to let us in, I’ll never understand.

Before that, though, things have been getting… interesting. I’ve been asked to assist in the Flock facility a few times. It was so strange the first time, all those birds that weren’t really birds standing around, completely motionless. Thousands of pigeons filled the room; some balancing on power lines strung across the warehouse, some in pieces on metal tables, being dissected by machines. Some with their eyes hanging from the socket, with wires sticking out from places wires should never be.

I spent some time in there, watching how it all worked. Any damages ones were taken off the lines, which charged them back up to full. They were scanned and their memory wiped and renewed. They spent time being brushed and painted, removing any discolouration from the harsh weather they’ve faced outside. All the ones in warehouse 43 came from cities in Idaho. A whole wall of the room was full of birds with gun damage. Over 1200 of them sat lifeless on shelves, waiting to get fixed. They were so realistic it hurt to see so many creatures suffering. I know they’re not real, but it’s still wrong to see.

I really can’t wait to get home, to get back to normal. Well, at least more normal than this place.

February 12th

Fifteen detainees arrived today. They were escorted downstairs and kept separate, left alone for a few hours before we made the rounds. I was kept by as an observer. The more, the merrier, as the saying goes I guess.

The group were trying to break into Area 51, the small one in Nevada. It was comical, really. We saw the whole thing from the surveillance cameras hidden around the area. They were caught almost immediately but spend a long time trying to fight their way inside. It was like watching a really bad action movie. We had a good laugh, watching them get their arses handed to them.

One of them was carrying a little book with their whole master plan written out in perfect detail. We were laughing until we realised this was what they wanted after all – to be brought inside, to the real place, so they could see what’s going on behind the secrecy. The commander pulled us aside and told us what was going to happen. I didn’t agree, but as I’m only here on a temporary basis, I didn’t want to say anything against it.

The group won’t be able to leave the island. Ever.

February 23rd

They’ve settled in as well as can be expected. Lots of begging, crying, breaking things. Its hard to watch, but I’ve been asked to keep an eye on them for the next few days, until I’m transferred back home.

I’ve learned a lot about them, though. Melissa and Jordan are married and started this little group of conspiracy theorists right out of high school, decades ago now. Their friend Paul shot a group of pigeons down last year, and since then they decided they needed to know the truth about this place.

There are already missing persons cases opened up in NYC for them. We’ve done what we can so far to cover it up, but their families aren’t going to let it go that easy. None of their friends believe their plane has disappeared – with modern technology now, its so much harder to use that excuse.

I’ve found out as much as they’re willing to tell me. It’s not enough, apparently. I’ve got to stay with these people until I know everything, to make their disappearance as easy as possible.

It’s making me so uncomfortable, being here, around all these people. They act like robots half the time, pretending that kidnapping is normal.

I can’t wait to leave.

February 28th

They’ve changed their mind. I know too much now.

I’m not going home.

***

This is another short story I wrote for my writing group. This one is based on the prompt 'Conspiracy'.