“That simply can’t be” I muttered to myself in utter disbelief at the sight before my eyes. I was half tempted to try and shake myself awake, as one does in a dream when it becomes apparent that one is in fact dreaming. Sometimes it’s hard to tell when you’re asleep or awake, but I always had a good sense of which state I was in. Despite the madness of it all, I knew there would be no waking from the incomprehensible vision before me. I had no choice but to make as much sense of it as I could. As much sense as one could make out of an obelisk the height of a building somehow standing in the middle of the Florida everglades, jutting towards the sky like a defiant rebuke of reason and normality.

  There was no record of a structure like that I was aware of, not even a legend regarding any such thing, as far as I knew. My head spun at the sight of it, questions racing through my mind like greyhounds around a track. What could have been the purpose of that massive structure? Who built it, and perhaps more baffling, how did they build it? The Everglades are nothing but marshland, making it physically impossible for that bizarre spire to stand so sturdily yet there it was, standing firmly there, nonetheless. Steadying myself, I knew that If I could get a closer look at the obelisk, maybe some of my questions might be answered. So, with shaking hands I mustered up the courage to begin paddling my way over to the mysterious structure.

  As I drew closer and got a better look at the mysterious towering fixture, I found no answers to any of my initial questions. If anything, a better inspection of the thing only inspired more inquiries. Between the tall grasses of where I had been floating in previously and the base of the obelisk, it appeared there were six smaller pillars surrounding it in a circle, rising from the dense swamp bellow just as the large spire they encircled. How I was unable to see them from that early vantage point, I can’t say for sure. Maybe it was some strange trick of the light, that was the best guess I could muster. I was aware of how the dense summer heat could cause peculiar light shimmers and distort views from far away. Each pillar, as well as the main obelisk itself, appeared to be made from an unrecognizable material, some kind of chalky grey stone, certainly nothing found naturally in south Florida. The whole site looked like some kind of ruin, but most jarring was how out of place it seemed. It looked almost like the whole thing fell from outer space, as far as I could tell. I wasn’t much of an anthropologist, but I knew the native Seminole people didn’t make anything like it. As I approached closer, passing through the circle of smaller pillars, the idea of recording my findings occurred to me. I had originally come out to the everglades to shoot a documentary aimed at raising awareness for conservation, so I had portable filming equipment with me. My goal was to protest swamp drainage and land development in the area, but after seeing those peculiar ruins, it dawned on me that such an archaeological discovery found there could be much more helpful to my cause than the typical scenic nature footage I had initially sought. If that place was a site of previously undiscovered manmade architecture, surely, they couldn’t drain it and build some gaudy condo’s there, I thought. I took out my camera and began recording everything. My brief excitement was quelled, however, as I drew ever closer to the structure and got an even better look at it. On each of the six pillars there appeared to be some kind of hieroglyphics, the origin of the symbology I could scarcely say.

  Then as I circled the ominous structure, noticing that at the base of it appeared to be a large platform made from the same material as everything else, another thought occurred to me, one that should have dawned on me much sooner. When kayaking out in the everglades, one is constantly surrounded by the sounds of nature. It was a symphony of sorts that had been a source of great inspiration to me. The sounds of Frogs croaking, Limpkins chirping, and all other manner of animal calls combining to create an all-consuming orchestra of nature around you. That is, what one is supposed to hear. At that moment as I was distracted by my fascination with my discovery, I failed to realize how deathly quiet my surroundings had become. No birds chirping, no frogs croaking, no insects buzzing, nothing. The symphony of nature had disappeared entirely. If one is familiar with exploring the natural world, one surely has been told what it means when your surroundings become completely quiet. It means that the animals know that the area is no longer safe.

  I swallowed tensely as my pulse began to speed up. I looked around frantically for anything around me that could be a source of danger that inspired the sudden disconcerting silence. My mind first suspected crocodiles, so I scanned the surface of the water in all directions, looking for those telltale diamond eyes resting on the surface. Yet I could see no evidence of the prehistoric apex predator, the waters seemed completely devoid of any creatures, which for some reason provided little comfort. Uneasy confusion set in like an unwelcome houseguest barging through the front door and tracking muddy footprints across a freshly vacuumed living room carpet. What on earth could have been the reason for that kind of dead silence, I pondered. I could have heard a pin drop in the water at that moment. It was as though animals knew the place should be avoided, as though even the environment itself recognized the almost religious nature of that scene I found myself investigating. Then another layer of dread fell upon me, I grew slightly queasy as a realization struck me like a bolt out of the blue. The thought dawned on me that perhaps I wasn’t supposed to be there, maybe there was a reason no other living creatures approached the obelisk. Perhaps there was some hazard about the place that I had not considered as I so naively approached its imposing form. Perhaps there was a reason no record of such a place existed. I began to shudder as the thought of turning back dawned on me. Yes, I would just turn back, return to the small town a few miles back and report what I saw, I thought. Simple as that. Unfortunately, even at the time, part of me understood that was wishful thinking, and that the circumstance I found myself in would be anything but simple.

  It seemed that somehow during my investigation of the structure, my sense of time had escaped me. This was bizarre as I had always been very keen on maintaining awareness of how long I had been out on any excursion. In fact, I recalled that I had set a series of alarms on my watch to notify me of how long my venture was taking, but as I looked at my watch, I noticed it had gone on the fritz, the magnetic numerals flickering on and off as though something were disrupting its ability to function. I then noticed the sky began to take on an orange heugh, signifying the onset of dusk. That caused the knots in my stomach to grow tighter. Thankfully I had come well prepared. I pulled out the headlight and affixed it just above the portable camera attached to a headband around my forehead, remaining prepared to flick it on as soon as the sun set. Thankfully, after testing the headlamp, it seemed not to be affected the same way my watch was. I turned my kayak around and headed back towards the outer circle of pillars, intent on making a quick escape from the anomalous find, and in all honesty, I paddled with a bit more ferocity than I would care to admit. My distress regarding the structure seemed to grow the more time I spent in its midst, and I was greatly looking forward to getting away from it. But just as I approached the circle of pillars my brief sense of relief was extinguished and replaced with frantic confusion as it became more and more difficult to paddle. It was like the water had turned into pure mud despite no visible change in its makeup, and paddling became more and more arduous the closer I came to the circle. I exerted all the strength I could, additional streams of sweat trickling down my forehead as I strained, but as the very tip of my kayak appeared to graze the space between the pillars, it was like it hit an invisible wall. No matter how hard I paddled, I could not break through that invisible barrier. My stomach churned almost painfully as the realization washed over me; I was trapped.

  Taking as careful of a sip from my flask as I could with my slightly trembling hands, I attempted to control my breathing and avoid spiraling into an anxiety attack. Whatever I was experiencing was something unlike anything I had ever even heard of much less seen before. I decided it would be best to kayak up to the platform to get on something resembling dry land and try to find my bearings, I made my way back to the center of the structure. Docking my kayak alongside it as best I could. I carefully stepped on to it. As the sky grew dimmer and dimmer, I turned on my headlight so I could retain sight of my surroundings.

  My first thought was to call for help, even knowing all the way out there it would be a long shot as to whether I would have a single bar, or if my phone was even functional. I checked my phone just in case, and sure enough, nothing. Not only did I not have a single bar of service, but the phone was also dead as a doornail, as though the nearly full charge I had a short while prior was totally sapped away. I began to pace back and forth on that strange platform, my situation seeming more and more dire the longer it went on. Would I die in that strange place? The thought sprung out at me like a horrific phantom. I attempted to chase the notion away, attempting to be as rational as I possibly could. I knew that in such situations, panic was the enemy of survival. As I paced slightly closer to the Obelisk in the center, I noticed a very slight buzzing sound coming from it that I hadn’t noticed before. In any other instance I would have avoided investigating further but seeing as I appeared to be trapped, I thought that perhaps learning more about what I was standing on might provide some sort of clue as to how to get out. The pillar was about the size of a baseball diamond, much larger than I initially thought it to be, with the large obelisk standing in the center, the black spire ominously looming over the swampy lands it inhabited. I double checked to make sure my kayak was securely fastened on the platform, or at least as much as it could be, before cautiously approaching the looming structure. As I drew closer and closer, the buzzing and humming seeming to come from it grew louder and louder. I hated that forsaken tower in the middle of nowhere the more I investigated it. The longer I stood in its presence, the more my opinion of it shifted from the possible answer to my desires to preserve the section of marshland, to some sort of cruel captor, having tricked me into its trap. As I found myself right at the base of the pillar, I got a better look at the symbols that coated the entire surface of it. To my shock, almost immediately the sun dipped completely into the horizon behind me as I looked over the odd symbols, leaving me in increasing darkness. However, for some reason, it was not total darkness. I looked back to the obelisk and realized why. The hieroglyphs had begun to emanate a dim lavender glow, illuminating the whole area in an eerie almost ultraviolet type of lighting. Seeing as there was somehow a sort of luminescence there, I decided to conserve the battery of my headlamp and leave it off. I also turned off my camera. At the time, I told myself it was because I believed I had enough footage of the setting, but the ugly truth was that part of me wanted there to be no more record of that unsettling experience. Truthfully, I didn’t want to look back on even the little video I had taken of the experience

  As I became enthralled with the strange writings, hopelessly attempting to decipher what they could mean mainly out of curiosity, I noticed a flash of movement in the periphery of my vision which ripped me from my investigation of the structure. I whipped around, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest due to its aggressive hammering. I attempted to gain a better look at whatever the movement was. At first I could see nothing, but then finally my eyes narrowed in on the source of the movement. The sight made me feel sick. I saw a figure standing just outside the outer circle of pillars. I couldn’t make out the entirety of its form with such little light but what was painfully apparent were its eyes. Little white pinpricks that gleamed threateningly in the dark. The shape was something humanoid, but the thing looked far too tall to be a person. As unsettling as its imposing size was, it paled in comparison to those eyes, those damned eyes. Their gaze brought about sheer primal dread within me; I wanted nothing more than to be spared from its hostile gaze, but I was helpless to avoid it. Those beady white pinpricks cut through the darkness like a hot knife through cold butter and seared into me, leaving me feeling like a fieldmouse caught in the sights of a ravenous hawk. I took shallow breaths as I backed up against the obelisk, the humming sound now the least of my concerns. I gasped as the thing began to move. It lumbered towards me ominously, threateningly. But curiously enough, as it approached, its movement was cut short. It stopped abruptly, seemingly not of its own volition. Noticed something about where it seemed to be stopped, that it was directly at the line of the circle of pillars. It was almost as though whatever the force was that kept me from getting out, was keeping it from getting in. This gave me a flicker of relief, knowing that whatever that being was, it seemed not to be able to get any closer. However, that relief was dashed when I saw those gleaming eyes begin to move to the left, it started to circle the perimeter of the obelisks, those eyes moving up and down as it did so. My heart sunk as I realized what I thought it might be doing. I suspected it was searching for a weak spot, a point of vulnerability in that barrier.

  It then occurred to me what the structure might be doing. I began to wonder if the very whirring I heard emanating from within the obelisk, was the sound of an engine of sorts. Could that have been what was retaining the unseen barrier? Was that whirring what kept those horrible eyes from passing through the circle of pillars, but also, why did it let me in? The questions just kept piling up. The tall figure continued to circle the perimeter, and I found myself following along, my back as far against the pillar as it could physically be. I was utterly horrified by those eyes but the only thing that scared me more than seeing them, was the idea of not knowing where they were. As we circled the perimeter in the slow fashion, my hands against the wall, I could swear I almost had a heart attack as my hand abruptly fell backwards at a point of sudden absence of solid surface. I caught myself before completely losing my balance, knowing that what I must have found was some kind of entrance to the interior of the obelisk. However, as I took my eyes off those white pinpricks for a brief moment to inspect, I noticed that while it certainly felt like an opening, it appeared no different than any of the surrounding wall, almost as though the portion I nearly fell through were some kind of mirage, meant to mask a hidden passage into the interior of the obelisk. When I returned my eyes to the creature, I made a sound like a mixture of an exasperated wheeze and a moan of despair as I noticed it had been joined by two other sets of eyes, as though they popped up out of thin air in the moment I looked away. Now that the darkness had all but advanced into a near pitch black beyond the dim lavender glow that illuminated the area at the base of the obelisk, there was nothing but those hideous white pinholes staring at me unblinkingly in the night.

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  I knew attempting to leave was entirely out of the question. There was no way on earth I would be trying to get past those pillars again so long as those things lurked just outside the tenuous security within the circle of pillars. That left me in quite a predicament. What would I do? I had no idea what those things were, but my most primal instincts were screaming at me that they meant great harm. So where would I go? As much as the thought unsettled me, entering the obelisk seemed like the only option I had. Perhaps there was some way out of this nightmare through it, I wondered. At the very least I knew that those horrible eyes would no longer be bearing down on me. So, in one quick motion I faced the portion of the wall where I could feel the absence of physical form, and cautiously stepped through the gate on shaking feet.

  I could have made a hundred guesses as to what the other side would look like, and I still wouldn’t have been able to predict what I found. While the obelisk appeared to be around the size of a lighthouse, what awaited me on the inside was a hallway, stretching impossibly farther than it would appear the exterior structure extended. It was like I had walked into an entirely different building. I kept wondering if I was in fact dreaming, every experience I had had up to then certainly sounded like a dream. None the less, I could feel my heart beating, the film of sweat on my skin from the still sweltering marshland heat, and the shaking of my hands, all of it felt far too real to be a dream. The walls of the interior were also jet black but with that same dull lavender glow emanating from where they connected with the floor, almost as if to guide me through the hall, to direct me towards what lies at the end. I grew more and more unsettled with every step forward I took but knowing I had no other recourse, I pressed onward. The hallway seemed to go on indefinitely. Just a straight line further and further into the darkness. Just as I began to suspect that somehow I might have been on some kind of hamster wheel, like walking against the flow of those flat escalators at the airport without knowing, the hallway finally opened into a much larger chamber with more of those alien hieroglyphics lining the walls. In the center of the chamber there was a large stone slab with more strange glyphs on it, those ones seeming to glow brighter than the rest. I grew nervous from how cavernous the chamber was. I felt uncomfortably exposed as I cautiously made my way towards the slab in the center, my eyes darting all around me to make sure there was nothing else in the expansive room.

  The closer I approached the slab, the larger it seemed to become. It was like an optical illusion; the whole interior of the obelisk was like walking through the most unsettling sort of funhouse where the laws of reality seemed not to apply. With each step closer I noticed more of that whirring sound from before. I began to suspect perhaps the slab was the source of the sound, the ‘engine’, so to speak. As I was almost upon the slab, I heard a distinct click that stopped me dead in my tracks. Following the click came what almost sounded like mechanical gears turning as I noticed the slab start to open block by consecutive block, shifting upwards and outwards from each end. It started with two slabs of the bottom parting ways, followed by the ones above them, and so on and so forth. I was utterly paralyzed by what was revealed behind the slab. As more of it opened, what appeared to be a humanoid-like figure, albeit taller and larger than any person I had ever heard of. Its skin was grey with multicolored veins covering the whole thing, emitting colors reminiscent of aurora borealis. The man like thing appeared to be sitting cross legged in a meditative state, its eyes closed, and its hands on its knees. I couldn’t tell if it was a living thing, or if it was a statue because of how still it was but that didn’t matter to me in the slightest. The thing put the fear of God in me. I wanted nothing more than to be as far away from that spot as humanly possible. I wanted to wake up in my bed and realize it was all just a bad dream, but I knew it wasn’t.

  With each new portion of the slab that opened, seeming to go all the way up to the ceiling, the whirring and buzzing sounds grew louder and louder. With the recession of each new slab, the volume increased until it was practically unbearable. With the final portion opening my hands flew to cover my ears from the offensive volume, now sounding like a mixture of radio fuzz and the distortion from an amplifier at a rock concert. I staggered back but still couldn’t bring myself to flee the scene. It was like my body wouldn’t regard a single command my mind gave it, like the overpowering sound was causing my very nervous system to malfunction. I felt as though my heart nearly stopped when I saw that the eyes of the statue, or man, or creature, or whatever sat there began to open revealing the same multicolored flowing hues as the veins, but the eyes were different, my god were they different. The intensity of the colors was unbearable, they emitted colors that weren’t of this world, it was like nothing I had ever seen. The pain of sunlight beating against one’s eyes after emerging from several hours in a dark movie theater was like an infinitesimally small fraction of what I felt from the overpowering light from those eyes. I began to weep as it became more and more apparent that I was completely and utterly at the mercy of that being. The eyes looked at me, they were unlike the beady glowing pinpricks of those creatures that stalked the exterior of the building, those eyes emitted power and indifference in them. There was no malice, but nor could I detect anything resembling benevolence. They were like the eyes of a god looking down upon a mere mortal. I fell to my knees as the mouth began to open as well revealing blinding light coming from the esophagus of the giant being. The light was overpowering, it was all consuming, it was humbling. The entire room began to swim out of focus as I thought I could hear the thing bellowing among the deafening buzzing, its voice was like that of a biblical angel; terrifying, and awe inspiring all at once. The air in the room began to feel thick and hot, almost like an oven, as my head began to throb harder. I could feel my skin begin to burn almost as though I was being beaten down on by the hottest desert sun, ultraviolet rays stronger than anything on earth singing every inch of me. It was agonizing and made every second feel like an eternity. The more I was subjected to the intensity of the room, of that being’s power, the more I found my vision growing dark and my senses growing dull. The pain from the blinding light in my eyes grew dim, the discomfort from the deafening sound penetrating my ears began to give way to silence and numbness as I felt consciousness abandoning me. At first, I thought that the onslaught of my senses was lessening but my last thought was that that was not the case. My body was giving out, I was being overwhelmed by all of it, and I would soon meet the sweet release of the abyssal dark. The last coherent thought before everything went black was that out of all the wild things people stumble upon in the everglades, all the outlandish stories I’d heard. No one would ever believe that I stumbled upon what seemed to be the home of either an alien, or an old God our books failed to document. But it didn’t matter, for in that last moment, I didn’t believe I would live to tell the tale. Everything just faded away.

  I was just about certain that had been the end of me. However, a gradual feeling of warmth began to rouse me. Coupled with light I could notice behind my closed eyes, a light that grew more and more difficult to ignore. Gradually the discomfort shook me awake and my eyes fluttered open to take stock of my surroundings. My vision was still blurry, and I flailed around noticing I was clinging to my kayak, half submerged in the shallow murky water of the Florida marshland in the bright mid-day light. I did my best to scramble back onto the kayak. Once I was back to being afloat the next thing, I noticed was that the looming obelisk, and the circle of pillars, the entire setting of my terrible ordeal was gone. As though it never existed, as though it was all just a figment of my fevered imagination. The sight of nothing but the wild marshland caused me to doubt my own sanity. I thought perhaps that I had just lost my mind in the heat of the climate, that all of the agony in that dark chamber was merely a vision cooked up by my overheated psyche. However, I was ripped away from that notion by the next thing that my senses registered; sheer, brutal pain. I think the adrenaline finally began to wear off, as I began to feel an overwhelming, radiating pain all over my body. I attempted to release an agonized groan as I slumped over, but all I managed was a guttural grunt. My hands shot from my legs to my torso, to my arms, grabbing at every part of myself and then promptly releasing as the futile attempt at self-comfort merely resulted in more pain. The more the pain grew, the more the evidence of my torture became apparent, the less I suspected it was a dream. No earthly experience could have done to me what I endured in that cryptic chamber. The memories of what I had endured returned to me, detail by torturous detail. My throat was absolutely bone dry, leading my next action to be a frantic, fumbling search for my flask. I felt a surge of the closest thing to hope when I found it rolling around between my feet. It didn’t have much left in it, but I greedily drank the contents, savoring every drop. After it was thoroughly depleted, I let the flask fall back into the kayak, crashing to the bottom with an aggressive clatter. My remaining strength felt drained merely by the act of lifting it to my lips. I was so weak, so tired, feeling like my very soul had been filtered out of my body. It was as though I hadn’t slept in weeks and hadn’t eaten in just as long. I felt as though I was dying. Whatever unworldly thing I had experienced, had taken everything out of me. I could see my hands and forearms covered in painful blisters as though I were exposed to radiation, I must have been such a wretched sight. All I could do was lay there in my pitiful little boat and pray to whatever deity existed for mercy.

  I went on like that for what seemed to be an eternity although it was likely just an hour or so, exaggerated by my horrendous state of health. I had just about come to accept that it would be my end, that I would become little more than fodder for the ecosystem, that I would perish and be snatched up by some crocodile or alligator or would simply become food for the plant life, fertilizer for the everglades. Just as I began to shut my eyes in resignation of my fate, a faint sound resonated within my still buzzing ears. At first, I couldn’t quite tell if it was just the residual hum that seemed now to remain with my senses, but I noticed it began to grow in volume. My eyes fluttered open as I realized what it was.

  I had never considered myself to be a religious person. I had never attended church or synagogue or any other kind of organized faith. My views on things like God and fate had always been murky at best. But I imagine that even the staunchest atheist might begin to question their beliefs if they encountered the kind of miraculous coincidence, I did that day. That buzzing sound that increased in volume the closer it came to me soon came into vision and out of the grand vastness of that endless swamp, who could have imagined that someone on an airboat could have seen my light blue kayak poking out of the tall grass and grown curious as to what it was. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought perhaps that too might be some kind of illusion, after all I had been through at that point, I felt my perception of reality couldn’t be trusted either way. None the less, my senses kept telling me I was not mistaken. As the boat came closer, I used every bit of my strength to raise my hand in a desperate pitiful wave, doing what little I could to flag down the pilot, to alert them of the desperate nature of the scene that they had happened by. After all the assaults that my senses had endured in the past day, the feeling of the water rippling as the airboat approached and the sound of the man exclaiming in shock at the sight of me was like feeling rain after weeks in the desert. My last thoughts before I drifted back out of consciousness were that I couldn’t believe I might just survive.

  The man in the airboat, some random Floridian enjoying an afternoon on the water hauled me into his boat and brought me back to the small town where I had launched my expedition from. From there I was helicoptered into a hospital in Miami. They stuck me with an IV drip, did the best they could to dress the burns all over my body and keep me stable until I arrived in the ER. I was drifting in and out of consciousness the whole time but clung to life like a tick, fueled by the golden opportunity of survival that had been bestowed on me. I spent weeks in the hospital recovering. Much of my burns had grown infected from the marsh water, and I learned that I had been left with reduced sight and hearing capacity. Not quite deaf and blind, but certainly not healthy. Once I had been rested enough to be questioned about what had left me in such a state, I felt I could do nothing but play dumb. I told them I had passed out from the heat while kayaking and had no idea how I ended up in such a sorry disposition. The medical staff were baffled by my lack of knowledge but had no choice but to accept the stated narrative, given no one else had been around to witness what happened to me. I knew I could never tell them the truth, how could they or anyone for that matter, believe me? They would have scheduled me for psychiatric evaluation the moment I finished the story. After a few more days in the hospital, I was released. I still didn’t look the best, but I was healthy enough to return to my daily life. As one might imagine, my passion for environmental activism, at least for field work, was greatly diminished. After what happened to me out there, after I somehow survived that hell, I knew I would never set foot outside of civilization again. I try not to think about what happened; I try to tell myself it was just a bad dream as I go about my day-to-day existence to give myself some comfort but it’s all in vain. I know it was real, I know it happened, and I know I’ll never have the answers as to why. Whatever that thing I encountered was, I think it took something from me that I’ll never get back, a sense of security, of certainty of what I know about the world that will never be returned. I think it may have been some kind of trap, set to lure in unsuspecting travelers. Who or what set it up, I’ll never know. If others like it exist is another question, I suspect I’ll never have the answer to. Honestly, I don’t care to find out. Since then, I’ve never set foot outside of a city, not one inch. Part of me misses the beauty of the wild, but not nearly enough to risk repeating that otherworldly nightmare. Whatever I encountered in the wilderness of the everglades was something I was blessed to have survived once, but I doubt I would again. At the very least my story serves as a cautionary tale. If you see something in the wilderness that seems too fantastical to be real, perhaps it’s best left alone.