A mysterious letter arrived in my mailbox yesterday, containing the address of a local storage facility and the key to the lock on the door that opened to reveal this small, metal briefcase.
What. The. Hell. Filled with creepiness, no? Not only did they have my mailing address, the storage facility was but a 2 minute drive from my house, so following my traditional Thanksgiving dinner and the accompanying nap, I drove out into the cold, dark night to an empty storage facility in a part of town that certainly wouldn't win any awards, just to see what the hell was going on here.
As any regular watcher of supernatural television fiction - The X-Files, Fringe, etc. - empty storage facilities are extremely spooky. Just rows and rows of locked doors under flickering florescent lighting. The ride to the second floor in a giant freight elevator would have been harrowing, but recent games have taught me that elevators, once devices used for high drama, are now simply used for seamlessly loading new areas.
Entering the new area I quickly found the correct door, unlocked the padlock (which is still in my possession because hey - free padlock), and discovered a tiny, locked silver case sitting in the center of the cold concrete floor.
Go go dramatic effect!
I brought the case home, and realized that the letter had also been packed with a DVD. On it, the following video message:
Attention Mr Spookyman: It's very hard to tell no one about any of this while still posting an image of the case. Besides, no one goes to that much trouble masking their voice and appearing all shadowy when they don't want attention.
Anyway, all we know so far is:
1. This has something to do with F.E.A.R. 2, previously known as Project Origin.
2. There is something going on in New York, which is a great deal north of where I live.
3. Shadowy figure is all shadowy.
4. Someone associated with this project knows how to use Google Maps.
5. The case has a three-digit combination, which I theoretically could crack way before December 5th, though it would ruin the dramatic tension.
For now, we wait. I have the case sitting next to me, and every once in awhile I turn the tumblers randomly, just to see if it opens. I suppose I could start from 000 and work my way up to 999, but they know where I live, so it might be wiser to simply leave well enough alone.
Tune in next week for the hopefully dramatic conclusion to the Case of the Case Case. Cue dramatic cliffhanger music!