Day 7, evening: New tracks have appeared around our tent. None of us heard anything out of the ordinary. Myself and one of the guys agreed that those tracks were not there before, but the other guy recalls their existence before this occurrence. We will have to be more mindful of things like this. It's beginning to become more dangerous than it already was, and I suspect something sinister about these new found tracks.

Day 7, afternoon: It is 5 o' clock, and two oddities have occurred. One, we have all agreed that the past two hours were definitely a longer duration than two hours. On top of space, the creature must incur a temporal anomaly as well. Strangely enough, however, this is the first time any temporal anomaly has been noticed by myself or the other two. Second of all, and most disturbing, are the tracks in the snow. They reappeared last night, but I thought nothing of it, as it is a normality at this point. But the tracks are definitely no longer human at this point, or anything of this Earth. The closest thing I can think of is perhaps a squid which walks on land. Considering that the creature out there has tentacular appendages, I suppose this isn't too much of a surprise, but it is still certainly frightening. I am interested in following them, but I want to get to the creature above all else. The main guards were supposed to arrive this morning, but I see no signs of them thus far. I suppose they are just not visible to us, or perhaps the temporal anomaly has affected our view of time. At any rate, I expect to arrive at the creature's location by tomorrow if things go optimally. This expedition has certainly exceeded its expected duration.

Day 7, afternoon: We've continued on for some time now, but it is only three o' clock. The creature has reappeared where we expected it to be, and it has grown considerably smaller since we last viewed it. So, I conclude that whatever occurred that affected its position did not affect the shrinkage anomaly. We look to be about three fourths of the way there now. We will continue on til' about 5 o' clock.

Day 7: Once again, I have heard the voice. It is now distinguishable as a single voice, as opposed to more than one, as I had previously believed. Some of the words were actually comprehensible and memorable, but they were simple things which actually made no sense when put together. The most distinct words were 'snow,' and 'back.' The latter is especially eerie, but I can't think anything of it, as there was no context. When I inquired, the other two guys had also heard the voice and came to the same conclusions as I had.

Day 8-9 transition, early morning Day 9: As we continued to walk, the voice made a very clear statement to all of us. This is not verbatim, as I could never hope to remember every incomprehensible word this horrible creature has spoken to us, and I apologize for my vagueness, but we got the intended message: 'Turn back.' No doubt, at this point, these words are those of the creature we hope to reach. The tone of the voice did not imply any sort of anger or even a hint of territorial jealousy. It sounded more fearful than anything else.

Day 8, midnight: Our reliance on the temporal anomaly's stability has failed us. It is currently midnight, but we only got a couple hours of sleep. I've made the decision to continue forth. My fear for my own safety, and more importantly, my fear for their safety, has grown to the point where I will have to take full control of this expedition. No more votes. I will take their opinions into consideration, but my word will be final from this point on.

Day 8, afternoon: It is 12 o' clock, and we have made it about nine tenths of the way there. The creature continues to shrink, but we are definitely very close at this point. We are going to take a brief break and get a few hours of sleep in before we continue on. We should lose little time, thanks to the temporal anomaly.

Day 8: We awoke early this morning to get a head start. Once again, new tracks appeared in the snow. This time, none of us had any doubt of their non-existence beforehand. If we do not make it to the creature within two days, we will abandon the trek and begin to follow the tracks. I fear for our safety at this point. We should be back at base greeting the new guards and allowing them to take over.

Day 9: Once again, the creature has disappeared. I do not credit this occurrence to its shrinkage this time around. I am certain that we would still be able to see this behemoth, even at this small size. From this distance, I am certain of that. To be truthful, I have had enough of this. Supplies are not a problem; we brought plenty to last. I am just seriously worried about our safety. Not only is the anomaly a main issue, but the antarctic is a frigid, stark place. We have made it thus far with no serious complaints about the cold, but I worry that will not last much longer. I have made the decision to lead us in the direction of the tentacular tracks, regardless of whether the creature reappears or not, which I am certain it will. I feel as though we will not make any more progress towards the creature itself, and its eerie statement last night has seriously stricken terror in me after I've given it more thought.

Joseph Mann

Day 9, morning: The tracks have led us back to one of our oldest tents, the one at which we left the tissue analyzer. I am thoroughly confused at this. First of all, and most obvious, it took us three hours to travel a distance which previously took us five or six days to travel. Second of all, I noticed no human tracks, as you may have expected to see as a result of our previous trek back to this tent. I will continue to record things in this log to the best of my ability, but my focus has shifted from researching this beast to getting us back to base safely.

Joseph Mann

Day 9, before noon: Something has been following us this entire time, since Day 1. To be frank, I do not care about thing out there any longer. Something has been following us, and this explains the strange tracks in the snow. This must be why those tracks led us back to our old tent. We were not following them forward; we were following them backward.

Joseph

Day 9, afternoon: I have come to the realization that I am now alone. Where I once heard the comforting sound of human footsteps crunching the snow behind me, I now hear nothing but the hollow wind and emptiness. I cannot recall at what point those two got away from me, or perhaps, at what point I got away from them, but I am now terrified of what is to come. I still have plenty of supplies packed, and as previously stated, food and water will really be no issue for at least the next fortnight, but I am alone. The tracks in the snow are now more terrifying than ever, and the voice more horrific than before.

Joseph

Leave

Day 9, afternoon: I lost my log in the snow a few hours ago. It was a simple mishap, but I recovered it without any incident. It was a little wet, but otherwise untouched.

I just took notice of the one-word entry above. I am trying to work out at what point I entered this, but I can't recall the point at which I did this for the life of me.

Joseph

Day 9, late afternoon: It feels like it has been days since I last updated this log, but I know it cannot have been, as the sun has not set, and I've only eaten one meal since that time. To be frank,

Day 9, late afternoon: It was a requirement for me to abruptly end my last entry. I heard movement circling me, and upon closer investigation, I saw the beast. The beast itself was circling me! As fast as I could, I approached the thing and skinned a sample of tissue off of its torso before it could skitter off with its horrible spastic tentacles. The tissue analyzer came up as a zero, that is, the tissue analyzer recorded no difference between this creature's tissue and a human's tissue. I will have to run some confidence tests on this, because I refuse to believe it until all evidence points to this thing being somehow related to humans.

Joseph

Day 9, evening: I've set up a tent. I want to get my mind off of this situation for a small while. I've set up a lantern and strewn out a towel on which I will eat dinner and read a book. Then I will get back to the walk, and I will likely skip sleep tonight.

Joseph

Day 9, midnight: The book seemed to quiet the voice. It was a peaceful hour, but I knew that I would have to leave as soon as I could. The sooner I get back to base, the sooner they can analyze all of this data from the tissue analyzer and make a sound conclusion about the tissue. My personal belief is that my analyzer is broken, but I've stored the tissue in my pack, so the guys at the base should have no issue running it through again.

Joseph