The Catalyst

The Catalyst

Hayden Holliday

"I...is it on? I have to get a better camera! Oh! I see the little red dot so it's on. Alright, let's go! Hello, my name is Timothy Larson and this is my submission for the 2015 National Geographic Documentary Contest! I hate writing so I'm just gonna read the documents. When I was on vacation in London I came across this journal, you don't need to know how I found it, and after I read it I was in stunned silence. It's so...horrific and I know it's good documentary material. Here we go! On the first page it says, 'Journal of Dr. Jason Whittemore. If you hold this book in your hands, it means that you either stole it or heard of my work. I care not which, because it truly does not matter, either way my message to the people will be heard. I must warn you, what this book contains is not for the faint of heart. You might even call me a madman, a butcher, or a psychopath. None of those titles are...entirely wrong. However, what I did here was for the good of humanity, and the grace of God. In any case, I welcome you to The Catalyst

.'"

April 3rd, 1853

I saw something. Something bad. Daddy had just put me and my baby brother to sleep and read us Frankenstein. I love that story. After he read to us, he said he had some "business to take care of," then he blew out the candle next to the door and left. I hated this time of night, not to dark as to soothe one too sleep, and some things were still awake that made bad noises. I tried to sleep, I really did, but the crickets, the creaking of the wood in our old manor house, the clop of horse hooves on brick, all made me scared.

After what felt like an eternity, I tried to find dad. But when I slowly creeped out of my room, I noticed that there was hardly any light at all in the house, save the moonlight shining through the window. Dad must have blown out all the candles in the house. I stumbled blindly around the house, trying to find his room. I've lived in this house all my life and I still get lost. After I felt that I searched every room in the house, I accidentally bumped into a door. I didn't remember this door. A small part of me thought that dad might be in here, so I slowly opened it.

Past the door, there was a steep staircase that never seemed to end, candles lining the walls. I figured that I've come this far, so I might as well walk down and see what's down there. The old, rotting steps creaked with my every step, the candles flashing shadows on the walls that scared me to no end. I knew that I was close to the end, because I saw a light and heard rustling. I ran down the end, almost tripping myself in the process. By the time I got to the bottom, I saw what I wanted to...kind of.

Daddy was there, but I didn't know what he was doing. There were animals everywhere, but they were frozen, and their eyes were dead and glassy. There was a pungent odor in the air, it smelled like...death. I loved it. Dad must have known that I was there, because he talked to me, but didn't turn around.

"I told you to got to sleep, what are you doing here?" There was an odd element to his voice, it wasn't anger, but...fear.

"I...I got scared. It was dark and there were noises and I got scared and I missed you!" I ran over to him and hugged his leg, the only thing I could hug. He turned around, his giant body looming over me. He was huge, his broad shoulders and large arms sent an imposing image. His hands were odd, they were huge. When he wasn't working, they hung by his side like two slabs of meat, but when he worked they were elegant, no one could match the skill and grace he had with his hands.

"Son, what do you see here?" he mumbled.

"I...I see animals. They can't move, and their eyes look...dead," I responded.

"The animals aren't moving because they are dead. I posed them and stitched them together so they look alive, it's called taxidermy." I was amazed, I didn't know that you could make things look alive when they're not alive!