The Piedmont Performance
The monster maker.
Dear Dr. Easton:
I have previously disclosed the following information to Dr. Franklin. As our new Assistant Curator and the newest member of Mackenson Institute’s staff, I need you to be informed as well. Please make yourself familiar with this document, and then file it away in the library’s vault.
The Piedmont Distribution Center (PDC) is now consistently patrolled by the Clarkston Police Department. The patrols originally began at the request of Dr. Hannah Lea Wilson. They will take place for an unknown length of time.
Previously, Dr. Wilson and her security personnel had placed the location under constant surveillance. Note also that Ghalia Williamson, another one of our security operatives, was on-site for most of the nighttime surveillance. She reported that she could detect nothing unusual. Ghalia is my (adopted) daughter. You have heard of her, but you have not yet met her.
The phenomenon that occurs at the PDC was brought to my attention by Sheriff Roman Barton. I then sought the advice of Colonel John J. Williams, who is the commander of the Clarkston U.S. Army Ordnance Depot. He is privy to much of Mackenson Institute’s activities, and I rightly assumed that he would have access to a suitable number of individuals who would be willing to assist us in this case.
The following information was discovered by said volunteers through trial and error. It took exactly one dozen attempts to obtain this data. The participation and actions of the men and women who helped with this study were nothing less than heroic.
Piedmont Distribution Center is a large building inside the Old Market Square in Clarkson, Texas. It is the one structure in town that seems to have no oral or written history attached to it. There is a cornerstone on the building that reads “813,” and it is of course absurd to suppose that this is anything other than a mistake. Perhaps the date was supposed to be “1813.” At that time an independent Texas did not exist, however it may be that the building is Spanish or perhaps Mexican in origin.
Having said all the above, it is not truly known when the building was constructed, and no one knows when it was in use. No one knows when it ceased to be used. All that is known is that the building is, except for a few crates, empty, and that it is called the Piedmont Distribution Center. The name is known because a very modern-looking sign outside of the building reads, “Piedmont Distribution Center.”
Inasmuch as our involvement with the PDC goes, I have already stated that we were contacted by the local sheriff. He himself became aware of the Piedmont mystery after being approached by certain persons who were in fear of the location. It is well known (and shameful) that Clarkston has a small homeless population. These individuals typically avoid law enforcement officials, but if something is wrong they will surreptitiously engage with the authorities, informing them that some problem is afoot. In this case, the sheriff was informed by concerned locals that people who tarried near the PDC were disappearing under extremely mysterious (and almost unbelievable) circumstances, never to be seen again.
After receiving this news and observing the phenomenon (which I shall address momentarily), I consulted with the sheriff’s office and Colonel Williams about a course of action. Dr. Wilson’s surveillance program then began. In addition to watching the building, we entered into it early one night, replacing the door’s lock with one of our own. We also installed a deadbolt and a security alarm.
Once the team was inside the building, Ghalia announced that there was no plumbing or electricity. It was not that the power was off or that the water was turned off. Neither of the two had ever been installed. Piedmont Distribution Center was simply an empty building, apparently constructed from heavily polished locally produced stone.
The team used their flashlights and determined that the building was empty, save for three large wooden crates. When checked, the crates were empty. There was nothing remarkable about the inside of the building except for its cleanliness. The floor looked as though it was constantly mopped and buffed.
For seventeen days our surveillance team observed nothing. Then, on the night of February 4, the team saw something. It had been raining for the past few days, and occasionally there was a downpour. During one of these storms, at 3 AM, a homeless person, a male, was seen running to the Piedmont to take shelter beneath its awning. He sat, leaned up against the building, and appeared to fall asleep. 15 minutes later our staff checked on the man, only to discover that he was deceased. The team withdrew to conduct more observations. At exactly 3:30 AM the corpse vanished. Nothing was left behind: No clothing, belongings, etc.
The place where the man had rested was checked with various devices such as EMF meters and Geiger counters. These tests did not produce any results. Ghalia, my daughter, has certain extra-human abilities, and she was not able to detect anything. The unfortunate gentleman was just “gone.”
The team then checked the inside of the building. It was 3:45 AM. They were surprised to find the man’s body, lying in the middle of the floor. He was fully clothed. His face was frozen in a look of horror. His clothes were ripped and torn. He looked like an actor who was playing the role of someone who was ripped up by a werewolf or some monster.
It was decided to remove the body and take it to the campus for an autopsy. Before he was removed, Nicole Sutherland of Mackenson Institute began to photograph the man and the general area. She also took videos.
The team never got to move the victim. At 3:58 AM the camera recorded the man disappearing again. He left nothing behind. There was simply no trace of him. He did not reappear.
This happened with a few more civilians before we could draw up a plan to try to find out what was happening. We observed five people in the area on five different occasions during the day and the night. Four were next to the building and one rested himself against it. Nothing happened. When another (a sixth victim) came along at the “target time,” he passed away. The danger evidently began at 3 AM, and we eventually determined that what we saw did indeed begin exactly at 3 AM and ended right at 4 AM. Weather conditions seemed not to matter, though it was cold and rainy. The only requirement to setting this dangerous affair into action was falling asleep by the Piedmont building at 3 AM.
Our plan was devised by myself and Colonel Williams with the assistance of Dr. Wilson, Nicole Sutherland (our camera expert), Ghalia Williamson, members of the sheriff’s office, and the CPD. Since individuals who were taken by the Piedmont returned fully clothed, Nicole created several miniature button-sized cameras for our volunteers to wear. When they returned, alive or not, we could retrieve the cameras and see what the victims saw when they were taken by the building. At least that’s what we hoped.
Our first volunteer (we will not name the volunteers, as that information is classified by the NSA) was a man who was taking part in our research so that the army would remove 10 years from his 13-year sentence. He is the one who first showed us the “opening act,” which occurs after the person falls asleep and enters the Piedmont realm.
Volunteer #1 revealed to us that the unwilling (or willing) participant falls asleep and is immediately transported to an unknown, somewhat dream-like, location. The victim awakens standing on a stage and under a spotlight. There seems to be no audience present. In fact, no one is present except the person who is on the stage. This is what we call “the opening act” or “the stage scene.” It is consistent and takes place every time a person enters the Piedmont.
The “stage scene” is probably the most dangerous scenario, especially for the civilians who lost their lives in the building. When we first started the research, we asked the first two participants to try to return as soon as possible. They attempted to exit the stage immediately. These two died within seconds and reappeared, deceased and torn, on the floor of the Piedmont Distribution Center.
Volunteer #1 attempted to exit the stage but was unsuccessful. The stage acted like a cage, preventing his departure. Nothing could be seen except the stage; nothing beyond it was visible. The camera footage was excellent. We attempted to capture audio, but were successful only one time, during Volunteer #1’s mission. A clear, loud, invisible male voice hissed the command: “Action! Exit right.” Volunteer #1 ignored the command and attempted to leap from the stage. He was retrieved from the Piedmont and hastily removed from the premises before he could be taken away permanently.
We quickly determined that participation is required if one finds oneself on the stage, for failure to participate results in death. Death results in reappearance inside the Piedmont building and then disappearing once again to points unknown, unless the cadaver is quickly retrieved. Also, I note that the deaths are cruel - the bodies are torn as though by an animal. The clothing is shredded. The small button-like cameras that Nicole Sutherland made, however, always came back intact.
Volunteer #2 was in the Navy and faced an upcoming bad conduct discharge. He was approached by his superiors, who informed him of our research group. I do not know how the military described what we were doing, but the man volunteered. Unfortunately, we were still attempting to quickly remove people from the scenario, and Volunteer #2 became our second casualty.
Volunteer #3 was serving 10 years in the brig for a drug offense. His sentence was to be halved in return for his participation. He, along with the rest of the volunteers (from this point forward), was warned of the dangers of participating in what we presented to them as “our study.” Volunteer #3 was the first person to be warned not to try to leave the stage, but to listen for the command to “Exit Right,” and obey it. He did, and his obedience opened up Act One.
© 2023-2025 Ren Adama
