Negative Code #1 The Red Camera Code #5

I blacked out.  Must have been the shock.  The last thing I remembered was saying the word Shark.  In front of me stands an old Italian inspired villa with a red stucco roof. The hedge was cut like a maze reminding me of Alice. Like her I feel like i’m tumbling down a hole but with no rabbits.

In the midst of a maze like landscape, old super 8mm cameras stand like sentinels, their lenses fixed on the earth in a mysterious circle. Nearby, towering pillars adorned with white fish heads guide my gaze towards a colossal Shark looming ominously above a weathered door. It's as though some arcane camera ritual is unfolding before me.

I'm drawn to the scene, captivated by its enigmatic allure. Could this be the domain of the elusive photographer whispered about in hushed tones? With trembling hands, I reach for one of the cameras, searching for any clue to unravel the mystery.

As I peer through the dusty viewfinder, I'm entranced by the mechanical marvel before me. With a hesitant press of the run button, the camera whirs to life, casting its spell upon me. I begin to document my surroundings, each frame a step deeper into the unknown.

Then, my lens finds its target—the Shark above the door. In an instant, the monstrous creature springs to life, its razor-sharp teeth gnashing hungrily. Terror seizes me, and I drop the camera, watching in disbelief as the Shark reverts to its motionless state.

Shaken but undeterred, I approach the Shark, determination mingling with curiosity. With the camera once again pressed to my eye, I dare to gaze upon the creature anew. Suddenly, it bursts forth from its confines, its gaping maw consuming me in a whirlwind of teeth and darkness.

In that final, fleeting moment, I realize the grim truth—the Shark was not merely a subject, but the photographer's ultimate masterpiece. And then I felt it teeth piercing…

The photograph of the shark was the last trace of the explorer.