I discovered a strange journal on an Arctic expedition, written by P.S. Lale.

I am a research scientist with a company that I can name for fear of them finding me.

All names below are fictitious for privacy reasons.

A few years ago around Christmas, our explorer's satellite system found strange energy readings in the Arctic Circle.

Our team and our military escort were forced to brave life-threatening blizzards to find the energy source.

We were near it when our scout radioed a fast object was headed our way.

The military took no chances and fired on the object before we could see it through the heavy snow.

There was a loud bang and pieces fell from it as it veered off and disappeared into the storm.

The pieces that we found were strange.

Wood painted red, toys of all kinds, and a leather covered bug. The book's cover was warm.

Its thin, flexible pages were like metal. A pen-like metal cylinder was attached to the cover.

Nate, a team scientist, turned the pen over into sand, wondering how to use it.

He stood statues still for a moment, staring at the pen, before screaming a bloody murder.

He dropped the pen and then passed out.

His expression was of sheer agony.

I ran over immediately.

One of his fingers had been cut off and cauterized so no blood was lost, but we were a long

way from the base.

It would be several hours before we could attempt to reattach it.

I screamed for John to pack it in snow, placed it in a specimen bag, and seal it.

With luck, the cold would slow decomposition until the doctor could check it out.

While John was busy, I examined the pen and the buck.

...