For nearly a year now, rumors of paranormal activity have swirled around Become Nosara, the Area 51-themed living complex just south of Guiones. Yesterday, hard evidence suddenly emerged.
El Favorito door guard Héctor Sandoval Cerdas, who lives directly across the national road from Become Nosara, received a Ring door camera from his cousin Jose as a Christmas present 10 months ago. Hector installed the camera, promptly lost the manual, and could not figure out how to take the Ring camera down. When his cousin Jose came for a visit several days ago, Jose took one look at the camera and informed Hector that it had been running continuously for 10 months. With nothing better to do, the two cousins opened a couple of Imperials and sat down to watch the footage. By halfway through the second beer, they could clearly see what many Nosarans have suspected for months: not everyone who goes into Become Nosara comes out again.
Nosara Lately sat down with agents from the Forensic Analysis division of the local Nosara police station to analyze the Ring footage, and we can confirm that – during the ten months in question – nearly 400 vehicles that entered Become Nosara never emerged again – including the molasses truck from North Guiones, eight tuk-tuks, a Pura Vida property management truck, three Nosara census takers, more than forty local DJs, and dozens of tourists on rental quads. We are also pretty sure we spotted the lady on the moto with the really good emoladas, who never comes around anymore.
Had the disappeared been visiting surfers, Nosara Lately might have let the story go. But this was not the case. We retreated to local watering hole and new Surfing Nosara co-working space Olo Alaia, where the video footage was already a hot topic. But for once, no one at Olo Alaia had any theories – and the reason soon became clear. No one there had ever been inside Become Nosara.
“Too fucking spooky,” said one. “That place gives me the creeps,” said another. Said a third, “I met a girl at Jungle’s Edge one night who lived there, but she left with some other guy.” He paused, thinking hard. “Um, about the middle of last month, maybe a Wednesday night….was there a girl in a light brown Tundra with a cracked windshield and some skanky dude with dreads going in…?”
Here at Nosara Lately, we are not normally given to histronics about a few hundred people going missing in a building that was obviously designed to attract space aliens. But then someone said, “Waitaminute…..what about that Texas National Guard battalion that went in there a couple of days ago? Did they ever come out?”
Everyone at Olo Alaias went silent, pondering these words. Tuk-tuks. The North Guiones molasses truck. Census workers. 40 local DJs.
But a full pocket-battalion of the Texas National Guard?
Nosara Lately knows a breaking story when we see one. Rest assured, readers, we are on it. But probably with drones. No fucking way are we going into Become Nosara. Not even if there is a super cool co-working space. Which we are pretty sure there isn’t.
