DAP Declassified: Subject "Stalker"

The following is a transcript of the DAP interrogation of Private First Class Henry Ferguson, carried out by [REDACTED] at an undisclosed location shortly after an incident involving US forces in Vietnam.

Interviewer: Alright, Mr. Ferguson, I'm going to need you to tell me everything you can recall from the date [REDACTED], 1968.

Ferguson: Right, well... It was a typical day. Sergeant Thomas said that we'd be stationed on a bridge on the edge of the jungle near [REDACTED] . We were meant to stay put and keep a lookout for Vietcong forces. The village that was a few hundred yards away had some friendly locals who supplied us with extra food in exchange for keeping them safe.

Interviewer: Yes, if our sources are correct you had an uneventful day, that is, until nightfall.

Ferguson: Yes... Well, it was getting late. Since it was a calm day, we were all having a pretty alright time, all things considered. We were cracking jokes and telling stories from back home...

Interviewer: Go on...

Ferguson: I can't remember an exact time, it must've been nine or ten o'clock at night. I heard this noise, and it wasn't the kind of usual noise that spooks you, typical jungle shit, no, this was just... not normal. I've been in 'Nam for a few years, and I haven't heard quite anything like this. It was just this raspy growling coming from the tree line a few dozen yards away. We all laughed it off at first, but it just went on and on.

Interviewer: This 'growling' you described, can you be more specific if possible?

Ferguson: It sounded like some kinda big cat, one that had chain-smoked for its whole life. It was unsettling enough for a few of us to start noticing. I could see the concern on sarge's face, he looked toward us and said, "You fellas hear that?". By now, our jokes and stories were long gone, we were on edge. There were suggestions on what it could be, anything from a local villager trying to spook us to some kind of dying animal. Sarge sent two of our men, Finlay and Harrison to go investigate. He figured there was no real threat that two well-armed GIs couldn't handle.

Interviewer: I see...

Ferguson: Keep in mind it is dark out, very dark. We could hardly see the jungle tree line, let alone make out any figures in it. So the two of 'em march over to the tree line, guns ready. We were expecting nothing to happen and for them to just march on back and say they couldn't find anything. The whole time they approached, that growling continued. But about a minute or two after they entered the jungle, we heard it.

*Ferguson stares into space for a moment*

Interviewer: You heard what?

Ferguson: I heard Harrison scream. And I don't mean a shout or a yell, he screamed. Not the kind of scream you let out during battle, the kind of scream you let loose when you're faced with the most horrifying thing you've seen in your life. Before he stopped shouting, M16 rounds were being unloaded from that direction. We all got up quickly and sprinted toward the jungle. Harrison met us halfway without Finlay. Panicked shouts and questions were coming from everyone, but sarge yelled to shut our traps and let Harrison talk. He was white as a sheet of paper, with an iron grip on his rifle. He was at a loss for words, but sarge demanded he tell us what happened to Finlay. He snapped out of it just enough to faintly give us an idea of what was happening. He said, "There's something out there, it took Finlay, tore him up and dragged him into the trees." Harrison has seen a lot, and I've never seen him in the state that he was in right now. Sarge asked him what the hell it was, but he said all he saw were massive claws that slashed at Finlay and yanked him into the canopy.

Interviewer: So this unidentified creature, it attacked Finlay?

Ferguson: That was just the beginning. Most of us wanted to go kill this thing; we figured it was still in the area, and eight against one seemed to be good odds. One of our guys, Keith, was insisting that we should not go looking until daylight so we could actually see five feet ahead of us. I didn't know what we should do, on one hand, I wanted to find Finlay if he was even still alive, but a more reasonable part of me knew that heading into a dark jungle against some kind of animal was a bad idea. But the majority decided we needed to find Finlay, and that's what we were gonna do. We stayed in a tight formation and approached the edge of the jungle where Finlay was last seen. Sarge had a flashlight that allowed us to actually see, granted, in a pretty narrow area. It took us about two minutes of slow walking to get to where Finlay and Harrison made it. We looked and saw some of his gear. His rifle, his helmet, and bloody pieces of his uniform. Sarge pointed the light to a nearby tree and saw these big slashes across them leading up the tree. We tried to ask Harrison if he saw what direction it went, but he was too focused on the trees for us to get much of anything out of him. Since we didn't know which way it went, we figured there'd be no hope of finding it. We were just about to give up when we heard it again, that awful growl. It was much louder now that we had approached. Branches were cracking, and tree limbs were groaning under the weight of something. In a panic, Keith starts unloading rounds into the trees. The rest of us do the same, spraying lead in every direction. By the time the gunfire died down and our magazines were empty, the noise had stopped. We felt relieved for a moment; we assumed whatever it was got spooked off.

But then, we hear something heavy hit the jungle floor, and Randy, another PFC, falls onto his stomach and gets dragged by his legs into the darkness. By now, everyone has panicked, and we end up separated. Ironically, trying to keep ourselves alive only made us an easier target. I was by myself, I was turned around and didn't know which way was out. I didn't see anyone else in my squad after Randy got dragged away... I heard them, though... One by one. It was dumb luck that I ran in the right direction and made it back into the field outside of the jungle. I kept running for a few seconds to get some distance between me and that death trap. I was about 20 yards or so away when I caught my breath and turned around towards the tree line, hoping to see at least some of them running out, but there was nobody. I sat there and waited, I don't know how long. Every second felt like an hour. Then I saw it...

Interviewer: You saw the creature?

Ferguson: Yes... It had a short face, two large glowing eyes, and a wide mouth filled with sharp teeth. It was probably around four or five feet tall on all fours, maybe six or seven feet long. It blended in with the jungle so well. I could see its eyes... It gently stepped out of the jungle and eyed me up. It must've thought that I wasn't worth the risk of going out into the open, and after what looked like it thinking through its options, it backed away slowly into the darkness. I saw a mind behind those eyes... That thing wasn't a normal animal. It used tactics; it used Finlay as bait and then scattered us.

Interviewer: I see... Did anything of note happen after this?

Ferguson: Yes, I ran to the village to warn them about this thing, but they didn't seem surprised. They heard stories about a man-eating monster living in the jungle, and they knew better than to trek into the area at night. I asked them why the hell they didn't warn us, but they said we wouldn't have believed them, which if I'm being honest, is probably true.

Interviewer: Well, thank you, Private Ferguson, for your firsthand account.

Ferguson: Yeah... Now can you tell me who you are? And why I'm here?

Interviewer: That's classified information, Mr Ferguson. You will be honorably discharged from the military, and you will be sent back to your home with generous financial compensation for your experience. However, you do not speak of what happened on [REDACTED], 1968. As far as the American government and public know, your squad was ambushed and kidnapped by a group of Vietcong soldiers, never to be seen again. You were the sole survivor, managing to slip away. If you do not corroborate this story, you can consider your credibility gone. No one will believe you, and you will gain nothing while also losing the benefits we will provide for your silence.

Ferguson: Why should I have to keep my mouth shut? Who the hell do you think you are!?

Interviewer: This is your warning, Mr. Ferguson, we will be watching.

At this point, Mr. Ferguson is sedated and sent back to his home city in [REDACTED]. We have deemed this organism to be extremely hostile, and it has been given the callsign "Stalker."