Journal Entry #42 - Loutit District Library

May 24^th, 2013 - 7:53 Pm

I’m very glad I decided to visit the library today. It turned out to be quite fruitful.

The Loutit District Library has been around for quite some time, and invites everyone to wants to sit back, relax, and have a good read.

I went to the front desk and asked if they had a microfiche.

“I’m sorry sir,” she told me, “the microfiche is unavailable to the public.”

I leaned closer to her. “And why is that?”

She bit her bottom lip and replied, “I actually don’t know sir. Manager’s orders.”

“Might I speak with the manager?”

She called him in, and out came the manager, Mr. Morder VanTepp.

“Hello,” he said, with a deep voice that surprised me at first. “How can I be of assistance?”

“Well, I was wondering about your microfiche. Is there a chance I could take a look at some old newspapers?”

Mr. VanTepp looked around, then said, “What dates would you be wanting to look at?”

“January 14^th, 1996.”

“Ah yes, the dates for Glenn Eaton’s death, and the disappearance of the west gate keys. I’m sorry; we don’t have a copy of the newspapers from those dates sir. We’re not sure where we could find them.”

I leaned in towards his ear. “Or perhaps maybe you just don’t want me to look at them? Hm? Could that be why you don’t have a copy?”

Mr. VanTepp straightened his back. “Absolutely absurd! What on earth makes you think we would hide those articles? It’s history!”

“Maybe because you’re scared someone will find out how the gatekeeper died?” I was totally poking into the darkness here, seeing if what I just said actually rung some truth to it.

Morder was frozen. He didn’t know what to say. “You are no ordinary civilian, are you?”

I looked at him straight in the eye. “I am not working for the government. I am not an inspector. I do not have a badge showing proof of who I am.” I revealed my badge to him, then once again whispered in his ear, “and I do not wish to see the requested newspapers from the dates previously discussed about.”

Morder nodded rapidly. “Of course sir, of course. Right this way…”

Yes ladies and gentlemen, there are times when I find myself in a completely absurd situation, and find myself cocking my head at previous events, and what I did to cause them. Trust me, though when I say this: the insanity often leads to the sane.

Within five minutes, I was sitting down, looking at old newspaper clips, and being offered sodas, snacks, and free books. All of which I declined. He eventually left me alone, and I continued to read the “missing copies”. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy the expressions made on Mr. VanTepp’s face as he flustered about.

January 9^th, 1996, Glenn Eaton missing.

I stopped at that one. I continued to read the article. It went:

On January ninth, the Duncan Woods’ gatekeeper, Glenn Eaton, disappeared. Officials were called by the city to investigate, and upon entering his home, found out quickly that Mr. Eaton was not there. Officials searched high and low for him, but found no trace whatsoever.

I continued on with the dates for a little longer, until I reached one that sparked my entrance.

January 14^th, 1996, Glenn Eaton found dead in Duncan Woods.

I didn’t move for a moment. The woods. Duncan Woods. A place almost everyone has been, including me and Edward. I read the article.

On January 14^th, Glenn Eaton, Duncan Woods’ gatekeeper, was found dead in the woods. Officials found him on the ground with multiple holes in his body. The County Sheriff had this to say: “After a complete examination of the body, we have concluded that Mr. Eaton was stabbed by a knife multiple times, each aimed for a specific organ in his body. Once stabbed, the organs were pulled out, put in plastic bags, and placed around his body. I have never seen such a gruesome murder in my entire life.” The Sheriff then proceeded to leave.

Officials made a wide search of Duncan Woods, but found no leads to Eaton’s killer. The case was dropped one week later.

How frightening.

I walked out of the room where Mr. VanTepp was waiting for me. “So,” I asked, “why the deception?”

He looked at the ground, then looked me in the eye with fear. “We were told… no, threatened, by two men dressed in black to never show those specific dates. They had also been going around town, covering up the strange things that happened to Mr. Eaton, or so I’m told.” He leaned closer. “Sir, as far as anyone knows, Mr. Eaton wasn’t murdered.”

I nodded. “Well, thank you for your cooperation.” I gave him my card. “Call me when things start getting weird, or if you see those men in black again. Kay?”

He nodded quickly. “Yes of course.”

I left the library feeling quite… dissatisfied. I needed more answers. Obviously, Glenn Eaton was murdered, and according to research, he died almost exactly the way the Slenderman would kill someone.

A shiver went down my spine as I walked through town. I need to find someone who knows more about what happened on that fateful day in Duncan Woods.

Off for more answers…

Inspector Kornelson

Journal Entry #33 - Mission: New York

May 11th, 2013 - 8:49 Pm

Today has had it's twists.

I got to Fred's hotel room at about 8:20 this morning. Opening the door, I watched his calm demeanor turn into shock. His mouth dropped, and he couldn't say anything for a bit.

"G- Gregory!?"

I looked at him with an awkward smile. "Uh, yah. You emailed me?"

Fred's shock heightened. "What!? No, I didn't! I mean, it's good to see you again, but I didn't email you!"

Simply protocol, I gave him a printed version of the email he sent me. "It's right here."

He looked over it. "My gosh, it's all true too." he handed it back. "It's legit, but I swear, I didn't send you this. And my computer hasn't detected a hacker lately. Trust me, I would know." His eyes squinted. "How did you know where to find me?"

I bit my lip. This was weird. Like, really weird. "I... I don't know." I scratched my head. "I just kinda... knew."

We both just stared at eachother for a bit. "Um," he said, "you wanna, come in?"

I chuckled. "Sure."

We got comfortable in the living area and caught up with eachother. We hadn't talked in a while, and I wanted to know how the family was doing.

"So," he said, "you met anyone special yet?"

I smiled. "Not yet." I looked out the window. "Maybe one of these days though."

"How's Shelby?"

Shelby was my dog. She was awesome. She's been trained, a lot more though than just the regular stuff. She tracks better than any other mutt out there, and knows how to handle herself. I'll make sure to post a picture of her sometime.

"She probably misses me about now. She's at my sister's right now." I sat up straight. "Let's get to business. Since I'm here, you know I can't walk away. Let's start with the phone calls. What exactly are the phone calls saying?"

Fred shook his head. "I got no idea man. The people who get the calls can't say it back for some reason. It's like their brains won't let them say it out loud. It's strange."

"Is there any way I can talk to the guy mentioned in the email you didn't send me?"

He smiled. "His name is Vladimir. He has expressed his wishes of wanting to talk to a pro."

I stood up. "I'll start there then."

I got the address from him, and drove down to the Hospital. Like everything here, it was big, and it looked bigger inside. I got the room number for Vladimir and headed up. I knocked on his door.

"Come in!" I heard.

As I entered, Vladimir shooed the nurse out. She complied, hesitantly.

"Hey," Vladimir said, "Kornelson, right?"

I cocked my head. "How did you know?"

He motioned for me to get closer. As I got near, he started whispering. "Some guys in black, scared the (censored) out of me, visited me yesterday morning. Told me not to tell you anything. And I mean nothin'."

Can't people spare the language!? "About what?"

He smiled cunningly. "I had been getting some phone calls from some guy. I don't know who though. Kept telling me something bad was gonna happen." He looked at his legs, which were raised high and in casts. "No kiddin' right? Earlier that morning though, I saw this huge furry thing flying around."

I chose to ignore that last part for now. "Car crash right?"

He nodded. "Yup. Didn't see the red light." He smiled. "Once I got hit, all I could see was red."

I was a bit confused. "From what I've heard, people can't remember anything the caller said. How come you did?"

"My Mom came and rubbed some natural oils on my legs and head. After that, my memory came back. Before that, I didn't see any significance in the phone calls, or what the guy sounded like."

"What did he sound like?"

He thought for a moment. "Well, his voice was raspy. I was waiting for him to say 'I'm Batman', you know? But it wasn't too raspy. It was very understandable."

I nodded. "Well, thank you for your time. I think I got everything I need."

Vladimir jumped just at that moment towards me. "DON'T LEAVE ME!" he grabbed my shirt and pulled me towards him. As he did, I pushed the button that calls the nurse. He continued to yell. "HE'LL GET ME! HE'LL KILL ME!"

I tried to push away, but it was as if his strength doubled. "Who!?" I asked.

His grip loosened, but he pulled my ear closer to his mouth and whispered, "The Death Angel."

Someone pulled me back. I was whipped around and grabbed by the shoulders. It was the doctor. "You need to leave sir. Now."

I pulled myself away. "Of course." I tipped my hat and moved on.

I filled Fred in on the meeting, who was almost as curious as me about all this. "I don't know what got into him, but he had genuine fear. He was scared for his life. He didn't do that for you?"

Fred shook his head. "Nope. He was quite collected when I visited him. He wouldn't tell me anything though."

I nodded. "I think I'm going to do some research." I stood and grabbed my hat off the rack. As I placed it on my head, I said, "God protect you, and may He bless you."

He stood and shook my hand. "Thanks. You too."

I left with so many questions in my head. Who was the Death Angel? How did this connect to the mysterious phone calls, and Vladimir's car accident? Seemed to me that it was pure accident.

I'm not gonna get a lot of sleep tonight.

God Bless...
Inspector Kornelson

Journal Entry #32 - Arrival in New York

May 10th, 2013 - 5:32 Pm

Here I am... New York!

                                  https://pt.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ficheiro:New_york_times_square-terabass.jpg

New York is BUSY. REALLY BUSY. I can't believe I managed to get out of it and into some soothing nature. People forget that New York actually has nature! Forests of all things! I took a nice walk in the woods to freshen up a bit. I think it helped a lot.

Tomorrow I'll be heading over to Fred's hotel. We'll see how things end up!

See you tomorrow...
Inspector Kornelson

Journal Entry #4 - Mr. McPherson

January 22nd, 2013

I'm tired. And I just realized that you have no idea what time it is. To fix that, I'll make sure to put not only the date, but also the time at which I'm writing.

It's 9:47 pm. Not that late, but I've had a busy last week. Meetings are very boring, and it doesn't help that I'm sitting the whole time. Sitting makes me tired if I don't take some breaks to walk around and actually do something.

Anyway, my last meeting was yesterday, and today I went to visit Mr. McPherson.

At 11:29 am, I knocked on his door. Surveying the land, I saw that all that I had heard was true. Electric fences lined the yard, and the only way onto the property was the pathway to the front door.

The door opened.

"Hello," I said, "I'm-"

"I ken who ye are lad." McPherson interrupted.

"Oh? How's that?" I was very interested.

"Simple. I had some goons come up to me door just this mornin'. They told me not to talk to ye. But I ken what yer after." He looked left and right. "Come in, I cannae have you standin' around all suspicious like."

I complied.

We went straight to his living-room. McPherson had tea ready, and set it on the small table in the middle of the room. It was a cozy den, nice and small, with a large fireplace. It was the only light shining in the room.

"So," McPherson started, sipping at his tea, "What is it ye'd like to ken lad?"

I picked up my own cup of tea. "Why is the government so intent on keeping outsiders off this chunk of land? Are they hiding something?"

McPherson smiled deviously, like a child who knew a secret and wanted someone to savor for it. "Nae."

I found myself leaning towards him, on the edge of my chair. "No? Then why fence up the place?"

McPherson leaned back in his chair. "If ye put a line that is not to be crossed in front of a toy that a wee lad wants, he'll cross it. Why not put a different line somewhere else to distract the laddy?"

McPherson's a pretty smart guy.

"So then where's the real 'line'?"

McPherson leaned close to me and whispered in my ear. "Right under ye wee nose lad. That's all I can tell ye."

I left McPherson's mansion puzzled to say the least. Who knew about my being here in Scotland, other than those at my work place? How did McPherson know all that information? And why would the government set up a decoy? At the very least, pieces were starting to fall into place, but the bits and pieces of the picture I had left me with more questions.

I picked a dock and stood at its edge, studying Loch Ness's beauty. I wish the lake could speak to me, and tell me its secrets.

But secrets are made for a reason, whether it be good or bad. And secrets were naturally made to be exposed.

Tomorrow is my last day here in Scotland. I'm gonna make it count.

Until then...
Inspector Kornelson