This archive item contains a single continuous field recording recovered from the crushed Zoom H6 I removed from Dr. Arlo Finch’s possession after he was found wandering the A30 in a catatonic state. What begins as a routine ambience survey at Castilly Henge quickly becomes a sequence of escalating pressure anomalies. Finch detects infrasonic pulses rising from the ditch, rhythmic fluctuations in air density, and soil movement that appears to respond as if to a buried heartbeat.

The disturbance intensifies into a layered resonance event involving RF contamination, sub-bass vibration, and a series of auditory phenomena Finch believed were the sounds of an ancient battle emerging through the mist. The recording captures distorted shouts, impacts, mass movement, and what he interpreted as the fall of a colossal figure standing up from the earth itself.

The event ends in a pressure wave powerful enough to crush the recorder’s aluminium chassis while leaving Finch physically unharmed but mentally broken. His fixation on returning giants, combined with the recurring pulse signature I have now identified in other archive items, forms the basis of my continuing analysis of this case.

The device in question, a Zoom H6 digital field recorder, was not recovered from a roadside ditch, but from the white knuckle grip of a patient currently detained under the Mental Health act at the Bodmin Secure Unit.

According to the accompanying paperwork, the registered owner, a Dr. Arlo Finch, was discovered wandering the central reservation of the A33 days after commencing his survey work. He was catatonic, dehydrated and clutching this recorder to his chest with such intensity that the orderlies struggled to remove it.

Dr. Finch is not an amateur. He is a leading soundscape artist currently funded to produce the oral Heritage of Cornwall Archive.

He his goal was to map the acoustic fingerprints of our most ancient sites barrows, quoits and henges. He chose Castilly Henge for a specific reason. Unlike its more famous counterparts, no standing stones have ever been discovered there.

It is purely an amphitheatre of earth, historically significant for its unique acoustic properties. He believed the deep ditch and high bank created a natural dead zone, shielding the centre of the drone of the modern world.

He went there to capture true silence, a scientific baseline of zero noise pollution. While Dr. Finch was physically unharmed, the device itself is ruined.

The outer casing is warped and the aluminium microphone capsules are crushed inwards, consistent with the exposure to immense targeted pressure. Inside the device was a single audio file labelled in Finch's usual castilly_henge_amb_final.wav.

Positioned in the southern entrance causeway, the bank here acts as a natural windbreak. I'm going to drop the XY capsule down towards the ditch floor. The acoustic shadow there should be absolute remarkable.

The drop off is instant.

It's like stepping into a vacuum.

No traffic bleed, no bird song, just dead air.

My ears just popped.

The pressure down here is strange.

It's heavy.

Check levels. Left is fluctuating. I'm getting a ghost signal on the sub bass frequencies below 20 hertz.

I can't hear it, but the needle is jumping every four seconds. It's rhythmic. Ok, I'm back on the bank. The signal is stronger up here.

That shouldn't be possible.

It was ground traffic. The ditch would trap it. This is vibrating up. It feels like I'm standing next to a subwoofer at a concert. It's rattling my rib Cage. Did you hear that?

The decay on that call.

The.

The air density is changing. It's getting thicker. I'm standing by the survey markers for the timber. Circle the ground here. The soil is loose. It's shifting under my boots.

Very odd. It's sinking. The ground is moving in time with the pulse. It's a heartbeat.

A tachycardia rhythm.

Ten beats a minute.

Fifteen. It's waking up.

I'm going to pack up. This is unsafe. The vibrations are destabilizing the bank. What is that?

It's on the RF band.

It's someone broadcasting. Hello? Hello?

Hello?

My headphones.

wait

It's not on the tape. The air is shimmering. The mist is moving with intent. The mist is taking shape. You can see them. Shapes. Silhouettes. Let their edges warp when I blink.

Spears, shields, they're not staying the same size.

It's.

It's the hill. Spreading out from the hill. Like something is attempting to stand up. It's bleeding mud. My God. Oh, my God. Look at the size of it. It's a war zone.

They're fighting. They're being picked up and thrown. Thrown so far. It's ripping them apart. They've got him behind the leg. They're bringing it down.

My recorder.

No! My evidence.

Got it.

He's turning. He's turning towards me. They can hear me. Bloody hell. Bloody hell. He's falling. He's falling towards. No, he's falling towards. I saw it. I saw it.

I saw him. Huge. A giant. They're not gone. They're waiting to return. Just resting beneath us. Waiting. They are coming do you hear me? They are coming.

Recording ends. The file terminates at that point. There is no further data on the card. Finch was a professional.

He would not have mistaken a radio broadcast for a geological event. However, I believe the battle he describes and the audio captured in the final minute is a compound event. First, the audio.

Bodmin Moor is frequently used for military training. It is highly probable Dr. Finch's equipment acted as an unintended receiver for a high powered encrypted transmission.

The impacts and roars are likely distorted artillery and vehicle noise bleeding into his unshielded cables. Second, the visual hallucinations.

Dr. Finch's descent into terror, describing gray shapes and bleeding hills is consistent with the effects of high intensity infrasound.

It is well documented that sound waves around 19 Hz can cause the human eyeball to resonate, inducing distant visual hallucinations and a feeling of dread. It is telling that Dr. Finch's mind chose this specific Imagery. The Bleeding Hill, the Great Fall.

These are archetypes found in the legends of Gogmagog, the last king of giants thrown from the cliffs or the brutal end of Bolster at St Agnes. Finch was a student of Cornish heritage.

It is no surprise his broken mind reached for these ancient kings to explain the crushing pressure of the earth. He saw what the folklore told him to see. That explains the audio, but does not explain the recorder itself. I am looking at it now.

The aluminium chassis is crushed. The plastic is fused. It has been subjected to hundreds of pounds of pressure. My theory, the event at Castilly Henge was real.

The giant fell, but it wasn't made of matter. It was made of sound. A pressure wave of such intensity that it warped the metal in Finch's hands. It should have crushed his skull.

Instead, it crushed his mind. It passed through him. And now he believes he is small. Small enough to hide from the giants walking the horizon.

Dr. Finch was found three miles from the Henge. I visited him not long after the incident at the secure unit in Bodmin.

He sits in the corner of his room, curled into a tight ball, refusing to look out of the window. If a shadow passes across the glass, he screams that they are stepping over the building and continually repeats that they are coming.

The doctors call it a psychotic break induced by stress. They say that the pressure he describes is psychosomatic. I will continue to monitor Dr. Finch's condition.

If he ever regains his mind, I need to speak to him to find out exactly what happened. In the interim, I am designating this case file as the giant's heart. We will be opening this case to the network.

If you have any theories regarding the nature of the pressure wave or if you can identify the source of the RF interference pattern, submit your analysis via the secure channel at discord.tavenend.com.

Full documentation, including photographs of the device's deformation and the spectral analysis of the audio, has been catalogued at tavenend.com for review to ensure you receive the next case file if your platform allows it. Please subscribe to this log and if you find these records significant, leaving a like or review helps the archive reach a wider network. Next.

Yes, I will. Break format for archive item 76.

The stenographer. She dictated her account only hours later, before she, too, burned from the inside out in her own flat without a flame in sight.

The interview that ignited a station, the fire that chose its victims, and the voice that moved through the wires.

End of entry.