Work Text:
Statement of Mumbo K Jumbo, ex head archivist at the institute, following the incarceration of one Grian Xelqua. Original statement given May 1st, 2022. Audio recording by Scar Goodtimes, new head archivist at the Magnus institute, London.
[Statement Begins]
Grian has always been paranoid, it was noticeable ever since he joined the institute back in the autumn of 2017. For a while he tried to hide this, but his constant look of suspicion (or.. dread, was it?) made it obvious. He has always been a bit delicate so we all adjusted accordingly, of course, and handled him like glass. He warmed up to us over time and, well, for me at least, stopped believing I had a motive for.. I don't know what quite honestly, I still haven't exactly worked out why he did what he did.
But..
[shuffling and crumpling of paper as the movement of fabric indicates he's moving]
ah, sorry, lost the next part for a moment. Hold on a second-
[a short, light and awkward chuckle]
[Statement resumes.]
Okay, it was the last couple of months when he started to spiral. And I mean really spiral. There was a constant glint of apprehension in his eyes; now, I'm never quite sure when it started but I believe it was.. around early March. The hesitation whenever asked to follow one of us to a meeting, and a consistent, constant dire need to look over his shoulder like he was being stalked by his own shadow. Hell, I don't think he even trusted his own body. It got that bad.
I remember the night he attacked me vividly. It was rather late in the night and I had just returned from a month-long excursion to clear my head, and to help Grian relax a little knowing he had one less colleague to worry about. The 24th of April, yes, I remember it well, a friend of mine's birthday had been on the 9th so we caught up with one another just a few days before I returned to the institute. I'd spoken to Doc briefly in passing, to which he had told me to 'keep my conversations brief with the man in red'. I laughed it off and asked whatever the devil that meant, but he only shrugged weakly and walked off before I could pry a verbal answer out.
The man in red. Instantly I knew who he was talking about, how could I not? We have been friends for, gosh.. it must be coming up to seven years now.. but the way he didn't even dare use his name unnerved me. I looked briefly over at Grian's little office space, it filled me with dread, no section of the institute has ever filled me with such dread as that one did. No other buildings have filled me with such dread since. I shook off the feeling and headed into the tiny, cramped office space I still honestly despise. I slung my backpack down lazily beside my desk then that's when I felt it.
You know how you can just feel when someone is staring at you? That burning itch of discomfort knowing their eyes are locked on you, and only you. I shouldn't have, I really shouldn't have, but I left the comfort of my office and into the bitter night for a quick breather, and possibly a cigarette. I don't usually smoke, but I just felt that urge to do so that night.
I say bitter night because the wind pricked my skin in a way I don't think I've ever felt before, it seemed to penetrate my skin and hollow my bones with a disgusting chill. And the air tasted.. different, like I was in a damp cavern on a mining expedition.. or something? I can't quite think of an appropriate example. I hadn't expected the attack, like a bird latching onto its prey as he lept at me from the shadows.
He'd gotten me to the ground, clawing and slashing. I screamed as each strike burned, ripping the fabric of my suit and slicing my skin repeatedly. I tried to struggle and of course, I made a clumsy mistake. I turned to face up to the perpetrator, writhing and wriggling around in the vegetation as the man in red continued. I begged him to stop, to which he hissed. Humans shouldn't hiss, it's not in our nature to do so. He spat words at me, 'Not. mumbo.' Of course I was baffled, how could I not be? I know myself well enough to say I am in fact Mumbo Jumbo.
[Scar clears his throat]
It was then that I felt his fingers grasp my face desperately, using a force I was unaware he had. Grian was.. always short in stature and couldn't exactly maintain a sprint for a long period of time. It's a wonder how he works as swiftly as he does. I'd felt the pressure on my eyeball, and it was quick and sudden. But it was sharp and intense as he just pulled and pulled. I can't exactly explain how it feels to have an eye gouged out, no words in my vernacular perfectly describe it. So I'll spare you the gory details. That's what the man in red did.
It took a few more minutes of screams and begs for the hermits (my colleagues as we typically refer to ourselves as such) to come running. I don't blame them, of course. It was late at night and most people were either deep in their work or simply asleep. How could I blame them? I love each and every hermit regardless. Hell..
[There's a sigh and the sound of rustling]
I'd say I even still love Grian. I in no way blame him for his actions. He's an unwell man who just needs help. Plus, the glass eyes apparently look cool, I don't know personally, I've not had sight since the incident, but Iskall says they do. I had no choice but to quit my job following that night, you can't exactly follow up the enquiries if you cannot read them. How can I record statements like these if I don't know what they say? Which.. admittedly still pains me, because I love my job.
Yet, I don't quite know what that was that attacked me that night nor do I believe in any way it was Grian. In his state of delusion and mania he truly did believe I was not who I said I was. The man in red was not Grian, I don't know what it was; I'm doubtful we ever will know. I just.. I don't know, I'm sorry.
[Statement Ends]
It's always devastating to see my colleagues go like this. Grian had been responsible for the artifacts and checking where they'd been left, and he was amazing at his job. He was passionate.. Like Mumbo had said in his statement, Grian had always been paranoid ever since he started working here. I spoke to Cub and he pulled up the police reports, telling me they'd found relics in Grian's possession at the time of the arrest. He seemed dependent on them, almost attached, according to officers in the station. Those artifacts are now back in the possession of the institute.
Cub had informed me he had tried to enquire about a possible broken rectangular pendant Grian may have had in his possession, I know Grian enough to just know what pendant they were talking about. It didn't belong to the institute, it was his own necklace, but he'd never taken it off ever since I'd known him. Yet, he hadn't been wearing it at the time of his arrest. Whether that says something or not, I don't know, I just know the institute needs that pendant.
[End recording]