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- | Game of 4/ | + | ====== MAG001 |
- | Cleveland | ||
- | Cabrera A, ss | ||
- | Sizemore G, cf 4 0 0 1 Abreu B, rf | ||
- | Choo S, rf 5 2 2 2 | ||
- | Kearns A, lf 6 2 3 5 | ||
- | Peralta J, 3b | ||
- | Grudzielanek M, 2b 5 0 2 1 | ||
- | Marte A, 1b | ||
- | LaPorta M, dh | ||
- | Marson L, c | ||
- | | ||
- | Budde R, c 0 0 0 0 | ||
- | Wood B, 3b 4 2 3 1 | ||
- | -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- | ||
- | | ||
- | Cleveland | + | date: 2016-03-23 12: |
- | Anaheim | + | |
- | Cleveland | + | categories: |
- | Talbot M (W) 6.1 6 1 1 3 1 | + | |
- | Laffey A 0.2 0 0 0 0 1 | + | |
- | Lewis J | + | |
- | Smith J | + | |
- | Anaheim | + | tags: |
- | Saunders J (L) 5.0 9 3 3 4 2 | + | Blackwood, Timothy Stoker, Gertrude Robinson, Jessica McEwen, Sarah Baldwin, Daniel Rawlings, Ashley Dobson, Megan Shaw, Siobhan Dobson, |
- | Palmer M 2.1 6 5 5 2 0 | + | |
- | Shields S | + | |
- | Stokes B 1.0 2 1 1 0 0 | + | |
- | DP -- Anaheim 3 | + | statement_of: |
- | LOB -- Cleveland 13, Anaheim 10 | + | |
- | 2B -- Peralta J, Cabrera A, Kearns A 2, Marson L | + | recorder: |
- | HR -- Kearns A, Wood B | + | |
- | SH -- Marson L | + | voiced: |
- | SF -- Sizemore | + | |
- | WP -- Palmer M, Shields S | + | episode_title: |
- | T -- 3:20 | + | |
- | A -- 39619 | + | episode_number: |
+ | |||
+ | case_number: | ||
+ | |||
+ | statement_date: | ||
+ | |||
+ | recording_date: | ||
+ | |||
+ | event_date: | ||
+ | |||
+ | summary: | ||
+ | |||
+ | wiki_url: | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | ##### [CLICK] | ||
+ | |||
+ | #### ARCHIVIST | ||
+ | |||
+ | Test... Test... Test... 1, 2, 3... Right. | ||
+ | |||
+ | ##### [Cough] | ||
+ | |||
+ | My name is Jonathan Sims. I work for the Magnus Institute, London, an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal. The head of the Institute, Mr. Elias Bouchard, has employed me to replace the previous Head Archivist, one Gertrude Robinson, who has recently passed away. | ||
+ | |||
+ | I have been working as a researcher at the Institute for four years now and am familiar with most of our more significant contracts and projects. Most reach dead ends, predictably enough, as incidents of the supernatural, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Now, the Institute was founded in 1818, which means that the Archive contains almost 200 years of case files at this point. Combine that with the fact that most of the Institute prefers the ivory tower of pure academia to the complicated work of dealing with statements or recent experiences and you have the recipe for an impeccably organised library and an absolute mess of an archive. This isn't necessarily a problem | ||
+ | |||
+ | From where I am sitting, I can see thousands of files. Many spread loosely around the place, others crushed into unmarked boxes. A few have dates on them or helpful labels such as 86-91 G/H. Not only that, but most of these appear to be handwritten or produced on a typewriter with no accompanying digital or audio versions of any sort. In fact, I believe the first computer to ever enter this room is the laptop that I brought in today. More importantly, | ||
+ | |||
+ | It is going to take me a long, long time to organise this mess. I've managed to secure the services of two researchers to assist me. Well, technically three, but I don't count Martin as he's unlikely to contribute anything but delays. I plan to digitise the files as much as possible and record audio versions, though some will have to be on tape recorder, as my attempts to get them on my laptop have met with... significant audio distortions. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Alongside this Tim, Sasha and, yes, I suppose, Martin will be doing some supplementary investigation to see what details may be missing from what we have. I'll try to present these in as succinct a fashion as I can at the end of each statement. I can, unfortunately, | ||
+ | |||
+ | That's probably enough time spent making my excuses for the state of this place, and I suppose we have to begin somewhere. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Statement of Nathan Watts, regarding an encounter on Old Fishmarket Close, Edinburgh. Original statement given April 22nd 2012. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Statement begins. | ||
+ | |||
+ | #### ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT) | ||
+ | |||
+ | This all happened a couple of years ago, so I apologise if some of the details are a bit off. I mean, I feel like I remember it clearly but sometimes things are so weird that you start to doubt yourself. Still, I suppose weird is kind of what you guys do, right? | ||
+ | |||
+ | So I'm studying at the University of Edinburgh. Biochemistry, | ||
+ | |||
+ | To be honest, I didn't hang out with them much. I took a gap year before matriculating, | ||
+ | |||
+ | That's why I was at the party in the first place. Michael MacAulay, a good friend of mine, had just been accepted to do a Master' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Long story short, I was violently ill around midnight, and made the decision to walk the route home. It wasn't far to my flat, maybe half an hour if I'd been sober, and the night was cool enough that I remember having a hope the chill would perk me up some. I headed for the Cowgate and the quickest way to get there from the Royal Mile is down Old Fishmarket Close. Now, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that there are some steep hills in Edinburgh but Old Fishmarket Close is exceptional, | ||
+ | |||
+ | In retrospect, the fall wasn't that bad compared to what it could have been, but at the time, it really shook me up, and left me with some nasty bruises. I picked myself up as best I could, checked I hadn't seriously injured myself, no broken bones or anything, and decided to roll a cigarette to calm myself. That was when I heard it. | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Can I have a cigarette?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | I was startled out of my thoughts by the words as I thought I had been alone. Quickly trying to compose myself and looking around, I noticed a small alleyway on the opposite side of the street. It was very narrow and completely unlit with a short staircase leading up. I could see a light fixture a little way up the wall at its entrance, but it either wasn't working or wasn't turned on, meaning that beyond a few steps the alley was shrouded in total darkness. Stood there, a couple of stairs from the street, was a figure. It was hard to tell much about them as they were mostly in the shadows, though if I'd had to guess I would have said the voice sounded male. They seemed to sway, ever so slightly, as I watched, and I assumed that they, like me, were probably a little bit drunk. | ||
+ | |||
+ | I lit my own cigarette and held out my tobacco towards them, though I didn't approach, and asked if they were ok with a roll-up. The figure didn't move except to continue that gentle swaying. Writing it down now, it seems so obvious that something was wrong. If I hadn't been so drunk, maybe I'd have noticed quicker, but even when the stranger asked the question again, "Can I have a cigarette?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | I stared at the stranger and as my eyes began to adjust I could make out more details. I could see that their face appeared blank, expressionless, | ||
+ | |||
+ | "Can I have a cigarette?" | ||
+ | |||
+ | I dropped the cigarette and grabbed for my phone, trying to turn on the torch. I don't know why I didn't run or what I hoped to see in that alley, but I wanted to get a better look. As soon as I took out my phone, the figure disappeared. It sort of folded at the waist and vanished back into the darkness, as if a string had gone taut and pulled it back. I turned on the torch and stared into the alley, but I saw nothing. Just silence and darkness. I staggered back up to the Royal Mile, which still had lights and people, and found a taxi to take me home. | ||
+ | |||
+ | I slept late the next day. I'd made sure I didn't have any lectures or classes, as I had intended to be sleeping off a heavy night of drinking, which I guess I was, although it was that bizarre encounter that kept playing in my mind. And so, after making my way through two litres of water, some painkillers and a very greasy breakfast, I felt human enough to leave my flat and go to investigate the place in daylight. The result was unenlightening. There were no marks, no bloodstains, | ||
+ | |||
+ | Beyond that, I didn't really know what to do. I did as much research as I could on the place, but couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | I never did find out anything else about it, but a few days later I saw some missing person appeals go up around campus. Another student had disappeared. John Fellowes, his name was, though I didn't really know the guy and couldn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | I haven' | ||
+ | |||
+ | #### ARCHIVIST | ||
+ | |||
+ | Statement ends. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The investigation at the time, and the follow-up we've done over the last couple of days, have found no evidence to corroborate Mr. Watts' account of his experience. I was initially inclined to re-file this statement in the ' | ||
+ | |||
+ | However, Sasha did some digging into the police reports of the time and it turns out that between 2005 and 2010, when Mr. Watts' encounter supposedly took place, there were six disappearances in and around the Old Fishmarket Close: Jessica McEwen in November 2005, Sarah Baldwin in August 2006, Daniel Rawlings in December of the same year, then Ashley Dobson and Megan Shaw in May and June of 2008. Then finally, as Mr. Watts mentioned, John Fellowes in March 2010. All six disappearances remain unsolved. Baldwin and Shaw were definitely smokers, but there' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sasha did find one other thing, specifically in the case of Ashley Dobson. It was a copy of the last photograph taken by her phone and sent to her sister Siobhan. The caption was "check out this drunk creeper lol", but the picture is of a darkened, apparently empty, alleyway, with stairs leading up into it. It appears to be the same alleyway which Mr. Watts described in his statement, the one that, according to the maps of the area, leads to Tron Square, but there doesn' | ||
+ | |||
+ | Sasha took the liberty of running it through some editing programs, though, and increasing the contrast appears to reveal the outline of a long, thin hand, roughly at what would be waist level on a male of average height. I find it oddly hard to shake off the impression that it's beckoning. | ||
+ | |||
+ | End recording. | ||
+ | |||
+ | ##### [CLICK] |
test.1451705584.txt.gz · Last modified: 2016/01/02 03:33 by briancarnell