Chapter Twenty-Eight - Mel’s Hole

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Mel’s Hole

IT STARTS WITH a call-in to a late-night radio show.

In 1997, a man named Mel Waters called Coast to Coast AM, the paranormal hotline of the insomniac world. He claimed he’d found a hole on his property in Ellensburg, Washington. A hole that wasn’t just deep—it was endless.

Mel said he’d lowered a weighted fishing line into it—over 80,000 feet—and never hit bottom. The air around it was cold, still. Animals avoided it. Birds wouldn’t fly over it. Locals had supposedly been dumping trash into it for decades—refrigerators, appliances, even dead livestock. The hole never filled.

And then things got weirder.

Mel said a neighbor once threw his deceased dog into the hole. Days later, the same dog was seen alive—collar and all—wandering through the woods, very much not dead, but... changed. Not quite the same.

He said the government showed up soon after. His property was seized. He was silenced. He claimed they paid him off and shipped him out—to Australia, of all places. And just like that, the hole vanished. Maps erased it. Journalists couldn’t find it. The story became legend.

Over the years, others claimed to have found similar holes across the Pacific Northwest. Deep, silent voids that seemed to exist outside normal physics. Mel called into the show a few more times. Each time, his story grew stranger. He mentioned black beams of anti-light. Frozen time. A “seal” over the pit.

Eventually, even Mel stopped calling.

So here’s the question: Was it real?

There’s no geological record of a hole that deep. No one’s found it since. But that hasn’t stopped people from looking. Some say it’s military. Others think it’s myth. A collective creation—a story born to explain the feeling that sometimes, just out of sight...

There’s a hole in the world that stares back.
And it doesn’t blink.