AOI-LOI-223 (ÅKREHAMN STAIRCASE)

AOI Number: AOI-223
Registered Classification of AOI: LOI
Nickname: ÅKREHAMN STAIRCASE
Danger Class: Tutum 
Danger Level: 3  5
Tags: Caves and underground
Threats: Sensory Hazard, Newtonian Hazard
AOI Containment Measures: 
Description: AOI-LOI-223 a tower on a small cliff-face overlooking the ocean. The exterior is that of a standard medieval belfry, consistent with the stonework and the tiling of the roof. A small walk-in window peers out from the darkness, allowing passage inside. Inside, is a continuous, spiraling staircase that seems to go down beyond its boundaries. The bottom has not been found. Each few hundred stairs exits to the side into different large rooms, each a type of room you would see in a medieval castle. Completely furnished, sometimes full of food or armor and weapons and seemingly non-spacial, allowing for rooms hundreds of times bigger on the inside of the tiny island. The rooms, tunnels, and stairwells are completely devoid of light, making trek without a torch virtually impossible.. Ignoring the rooms continues down the single stairwell. The walls are made of anachronistic stonework from the 1400s, no structural supports and no other materials within the main section of the stairwell are seen. The stairwell, wall to wall is about 60cm (23.6inches) with a height of 2.13m(7 feet).
Anomalous Properties: AOI-LOI-223 continues beyond any amount of normality, stretching for seemingly weeks of long stretches, of voyages from people who are accustomed to the extremities of spelunking and caving. 
Acquisition Details: 
 Report by Hunter agent, Peter Lambert and Hunter cadet Lora Verday - Found February 14, 1977.
 Report. February 16, 1977.
I had made my way to the site within 2 days. I had been in Finland hunting a nakki for the past 2 months so it goes without saying that I was very willing to leave the freezing cold lakes of Finland. A simple, low cost plane trip and I was staring at the site. Some fucking tower, not even that big, but quite unnerving for some reason. I spoke to the locals about what had happened. Almost all their stories colorated each other. The tower had just emerged. A flash of light, a loud, thundering noise, as an old lady put it “Like an earthquake but not normal” whatever that means. Instant thought, a magician. I’ll look around some more in the coming days. - Peter Lambert
 Report. February 18, 1977.
They sent a newbie to accompany me. I don’t need a newbie, especially a girl. She’s inexperienced and will just slow me down. Anyway, we took some food, a gun, a knife and a bag full of equipment down the stairs, walked for what seemed like hours, and it was. We found room after room after room, making sure that nothing was in any of them. The girl just walked behind me. Her name is Lora, I should mention. I respect her for trying but it’s a lot for her, I can tell, poor kid. We went back after hours of walking upstairs. My legs felt like they were pulsing with pain. I’ve never experienced anything like it. As I was walking up, I had something in the back of my mind saying, keep going. Keep going, they will catch you. Who’s they? What are they… Maybe I was just hungry, we had eaten the last of our food hours ago. I suppose we will continue tomorrow. - Peter Lambert 
 Report. February 19, 1977. 
Today we decided to kick back. Perhaps whatever caused 223 will come back? Either way, the hours of walking were not good for my legs. They were fucking BURNING, but Lora never complained. She was quite smart. She had graduated from Oxford, moved to the states and left her family behind for “religious reasons” whatever that means. She was found by an FFOS agent beating the shit out of a pixie in Nevada… Knowing how fucking scary those little shits are, you have to admit, she is a fucking badass. Either way, she’s still having trouble with 223, I can tell, even if she doesn’t tell me. I’ve been through these types of hell, not wanting to tell anyone you’re scared, you’re worried. I wish I could say the same. I wish I could. - Peter Lambert
 Report. February 19, 1977. 
Dearest journal, I write to you in the comfort of my hammock, overlooking a gorgeous beach town in Norway. Not once did I think I would be where I am. I thought it might be smart to take a break just for today, we were walking for hours. I think it was hours? I am working with a man named Peter Lambert. He’s quite intelligent, but he keeps to himself alot. I don’t think he likes me.. I don’t blame him. I’ve been very clumsy lately and almost fell down the stairwell multiple times. I promise I’ll get better. I will. - Lora Verday
 Report. February 21, 1977. 
It’s been 2 days since I’ve written. We ventured further in. Found multiple rooms that had food in it. Actual fucking food. And it wasn’t off or anything. We also found a library, full of books in a language I don’t know. The more I think about this tower the more I hate it. I know it’s my job to deal with the supernatural and such but this is.. Odd. What in fresh hell did I get myself into. I got a letter from my pa in Tucson back in the states. He got out of prison and was wondering where I had been. If I told him he would be put in a psych ward. I just made up some bullshit about traveling with friends around the world. Learning to hunt animals and such. Nothing more than that. He told me that he was proud of me.. I hung up then and there. I know I shouldn’t have, I regretted it right after but I didn’t need his pandering to my sensibilities. Anyway, I had to focus on the AOI. 4 other Foundation personnel came by yesterday. 1 other hunter and 3 researchers, more are on their way. Apparently they have an idea to find out what's down there, oh yeah, we found out that there’s a lack of oxygen down there. I still haven’t found the bottom… - Peter Lambert
 Report. February 21, 1977. 
Dearest Journal, my worst fears were realized, I had let my guard down and showed my inadequacy. I nearly burnt down a library due to my clumsiness. Peter probably despises me with all his being. I’m sure he wants me dead, I’m just a hindrance…. Besides the morbid realization of my lack of skill, we found food within the maze of stone and plaster. The food was soft, not off but not exactly fresh. Something is very odd about this place. The plan is to send people to camp at each spot in the rooms, having bases to allow for further travel. We can only hope. - Lora Verday
 Report. February 22, 1977. 
Apparently when down there alone taking samples for the lab, a researcher heard a scream coming from far far into the system. We haven’t got anything to prove anything lives down there…. But we don’t have anything to disprove it either. Needless to say, the researchers are pretty… apprehensive to go back down there. I’m going with them right after this. If I die, I’ll haunt their fucking families…. Lora has began speaking to the villagers further off the main city. Making connections. She’s quite good at it. - Peter Lambert
 Report. February 23, 1977. 
Dearest Journal, people are so kind in Scandinavia, I was offered a home, clean water, fresh clothing and a place to make friends by simply talking. It’s difficult, I will admit to take it as seriously as I must. It is my first true hunt after all. I’m quite enjoying the people watching. A young girl was staring at me quite a bit today. It was clear she wasn’t from here. Quite cute. Black hair, dark eyes. Quite a pretty young girl. Reminds me of myself, inquisitive, perhaps too much so. I hope she doesn’t try to peak into the LOI. Who knows what the higher ups will do. - Lora Verday
 Report. February 24, 1977. 
We were now insanely far down. From what the docs say, it’s about 1.2kms deep, I have no clue how far that is in miles?. It’s beginning to get hot. It also takes about 3-5 hours depending on hiccups and such. It’s proving to be a fucking shitshow down here. We aren’t even close. We took echo readings and seismograph readings, and we haven’t even touched the middle. The seismograph doesn’t show a bottom yet. - Peter Lambert
 Report. February 24, 1977. 
The girl came to me today. We spoke, having a nice cup of tea. She asked what I was doing in the tower and I explained to her that we are just making sure it’s structurally stable. She tried to understand, you could see it in her face. It was cute. I heard mr Lambert had gotten to the furthest point we have today. Still no sign of the end.. Perhaps it’s not a staircase down… - Lora Verday
 Report. February 25, 1977. 
We decided to camp out for the night and I heard the screams. They were soul chilling. Like pure demons scratching at our darkest fears. I tried to sleep, I really did. I’m not one for sleep normally but, something about this place… made me tired, very tired. Something was keeping me up, something about the silence scares the shit out of me. Not wanting to get caught off guard by something. Best case scenario, I told myself, I die. Worse case… Well, let’s not think about that. It’s not a good thought to have, miles below the sentient mass we call Earth. Weird to think about. Very weird. - Peter Lambert
 Report. February 25, 1977. 
Taylor and I had gotten along quite well. Learning that her family was new to town and that she saw the flash as they entered through a road against the cliff with the sea of endlessness on one side and the land of opportunity on the other. Her father was a wealthy man, loved to work with the men he commanded. I believe my boss is like that. I’m not so sure though. Mostly just legends and word of mouth. The researchers had the bright idea to bring Chris Howard Chandler, who climbed the great and perilous Chomolungma, better known as Mount Everest just one year prior to finding 223, they think he can last the longest time going down without oxygen, other researchers suggest cavers, spelukers of sorts. Either way, that building is staying up top. The civilians call it the “Steinfyret”. The stone lighthouse. It’s quite an eerily gorgeous name for it. - Lora Verday
 Report. February 26, 1977. 
A, one, Chris H Chandler, was sent down, as far as he could go before the air became too thin, or too hot. We haven’t heard from him in 11 hours. It’s clear to say he’s dead. Hopefully he will stay dead. You never know with this stuff. Lora has befriended a local girl. She’s cute, if a little annoying, but dangerously interested in the LOI. Perhaps she is an EOI? Tests might need to be done. - Peter LambertAddendums: 
 1. Currently, a perimeter of 2km(1.24miles) is erected in Åkrehamn, Rogaland county in Norway. A small town in the South Western Nordic archipelagos. The entire town has been evacuated and security cameras set up by the FFOS and Father Eyes after what is dubbed “The Taylor Incident” in which a young girl; Taylor Eraline, who moved to Åkrehamn after her father had gotten a job at the oil rig just offshore 2 weeks before. She had seen the investigations done by the FFOS and FE in the months leading up to the incident, and as the investigation closed and the security cameras were being set up to monitor AOI-LOI-223, she had supposedly snuck in during a festival in town. The CCTV cameras showed the girl walk over to the fence, climb over it with surprising dexterity, and slide under the restraint barriers. The girl then walks over to the tower, places her hand on the stone exterior, and visibly yells, "Hello.” A hand is seen, black and spindly, reaching out from the hidden outcove within the stairwell and grabbing the girl. Reports say she screamed loud enough to even interrupt the festival, but it continued moments later with no ill effect. 
 
 Only when the footage was reviewed did the Foundation know what occurred. Immediately, the town was evacuated due to a supposed “leak” in the offshore oil rig; caused by the FFOS’s interference as a cover up. Damages were paid, the girl was reported dead, washed up on the beach and picked apart by fauna. DNA was taken from the late girl’s clothing and a clone was created using Foundation technology. The clone was then euthanized. The body is given to the grieving family. They wouldn’t understand the truth. Let them sit idly by in sorrowful bliss.  Rest in Peace, Taylor Eraline. May you be dead, for the alternative is far worse.