Field Journal

Field Journal


Snowy terrain, flat in foreground, hills in the distance, under a pale sky

We went to Iceland knowing there had been a history of elf sightings. We were a team of highly trained professionals searching for a truth we had only heard rumors of, and when we found it, we struggled with the decision to disseminate the information. Some people would prefer that this story remain hidden, or that it be discredited as a hoax.

What follows are the unedited pages of my field journal. The sensitive information they contain may be troubling for some readers, but this reality can no longer be ignored. By my word as a researcher, an academic, and a human being, everything that follows is true. This is my story.


Rocky, flat expanse, partially covered in snow, under a pale and cloudy sky

12/31– 20:00 hours
Location: Iceland
Objective: Confirm the truth of cryptids around the globe

Having made little progress in the Black Forest of Germany, our team has unanimously chosen to relocate to a more promising location. According to our research, the vast landscapes of Iceland have yet to succumb to the skepticism and clichéd overabundance that seems to have doused our previous exploration sites. In a time when one is ridiculed for truly believing in something that cannot be quantitatively proven, it is getting increasingly more difficult to find a culture that believes strongly in paranormal populations. After chasing many urban legends and exposing a number of frauds, however, Iceland could be the exact place we are looking for.

We hope the location of the island, having formed atop one of the most mysterious and active hotspots in the world, influences the paranormal activity that manifests in our present reality. Binary dimensionality, as we know, explains why only certain psychic people can see, hear, or feel the presence of those that exist within another reality. Historically, the unusually active magma that flows freely beneath the basalt combines with the subzero temperatures in the winter months to wear thin the border between dimensions.

12/31 – 22:30 hours

Immediately upon arrival, every member of the team noticed the looming mountains in the distance, hardly visible in the assaulting darkness of the morning. The sun, which moves quickly and efficiently across the sky in four-hour periods, bares our orbital state of flux more honestly on this edge of the world.

Our zoologist seems particularly fascinated by the tangible energy present in the landscape, which, upon initial assessment, was deemed inert. Our local elf expert advised us to listen for the light within unusually tilted boulders and moss patterns, which has led us to our current location. We have set up our main base in the center of a lava field, near a dormant lava tunnel that formed in an eruption hundreds of years ago.

As we near the end of the year 2017, we hope to see—and if all goes well, interact with—a paranormal being. Many firsthand accounts state that New Year’s is the most likely time for the Hidden People to reveal themselves to members of our current dimension. As many on our team are proven to have invaluable psychic senses, all of us are undeniably optimistic.

12/31 – 23:18 hours

Nearly 3.5 hours into our study, and the temperature seems to be affecting some members of the team more than we originally expected. Many are wrapped in thermal blankets, and a few have shut themselves into the vehicles. Psychic levels also seem to correlate to temperature susceptibility.

Another unexpected distraction is coming from the fireworks the native residents have been setting off nonstop throughout the night. Our location, perfectly centered within flux levels of magma and altitude, has placed us near a small fishing village particularly inclined to pyrotechnic battles. This neighborly contest could, in my opinion, either hinder or aid our journey. Some speculate that the heat and colors, exploding against the luminous night sky, might attract the para-dimensional beings. Others, myself included, hypothesize that the violent, arresting noises will keep them away. Or perhaps it will attract a more malevolent manifestation that we are unprepared to deal with.

A photograph of a flat expanse of rock and dirt, some snowy patches in the distance, under a light blue and pink sky, clouds at the horizon


12/31 – 23:59 hours

Some members of the village brought us bottles of a local drink, the Black Death, to celebrate the passing of another year. While I find the people immensely kind and fascinating, I am more interested in the cryptids than the local liquor.

1/1 – 01:26 hours

Everyone on the team has left to join the celebration in the center of the village. It seems that psychic abilities are negligible when combined with alcohol.


1/1 – 02:41 hours

No sign of activity in this dimension or any other. The cold has worked through my entire body. I haven’t felt my toes in about an hour, and I am finding it difficult to grasp the pen. The night is as dark as ever, and I can feel my optimism diminishing. My team left me a bottle of the Icelandic liquor. Happy New Year to myself.

1/1 – 03:00 hours

Can’t find keys. Battery low in flashlight. Very cold. Moving into lava tunnel. The fireworks continue—hope to see them from below the underground caverns.

A photograph of steaming volcanic rock

1/4 – 16:00 hours
Current Location: Somewhere above the Atlantic
Objective: Bring to light the truth

I have been too overwhelmed to write these past days, but I know I must. It is my duty to share what happened on the first day of the new year, despite my fear that this may not be taken as truth. The moment I went into that lava tunnel three days ago, my entire perception of the paranormal changed.

I was cold. My hiking boots slipped over the icy rocks that covered the bottom of the cave. As a I clumsily made my way into the darkness, I came upon a figure partially bathed in moonlight that illuminated the cave through a small crack on the ceiling. Draped across the stalagmites, the body was covered in soot and snow.

Shocked, I lost my balance and fell to the ground. My equipment scattered around the cave and I landed parallel to the figure. Up close, I could see that its fingers and lips were tinged with purple and that delicate crystals had formed on long eyelashes. In my attempt to get up, I hit my head on the cave wall and was thrown forward, nearly on top of the humanoid being. Its eyes opened to reveal emerald green irises that appeared almost black, the pupils were so large. In the softest, most haunting voice I have ever heard, the elf whispered her story to me.

She had been injured in a battle before narrowly escaping, she said, fleeing to our realm with what little strength she had left. The witching hour was the easiest time to move between realms, and she needed a safe space to heal. She spoke with me for hours, though the specific details of the conversation I struggle to remember now. I know she radiated light, and her words gave me no fear. She was dressed in a timeless style, covered in durable fabrics and natural cloths. She agreed to answer my questions if I, in return, would bandage her wounds. I agreed.

I remember little more than that. My team found me unconscious on the cave floor late in the evening on the 1st of January. My first-aid kit was strewn across the cave floor, and in my hand, I held tight to an obsidian pendant I now wear on a necklace.

This event has proven to me that there is a world tied to ours, whether we believe in it or not. I hope to recover more memories of that night as time passes.


A photograph of a figure in a winter coat standing in a rocky, partly snow-covered expanse, back turned to the camera, under a bright but cloudy sky


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