Work Text:
GRIAN (ARCHIVIST)
Statement of an unknown person regarding a mysterious man who terrorized his village. Original statement transcribed from a letter dated June, 1714. Audio recording by Grian, Head Archivist of the Void Institute, London.
Statement begins.
GRIAN (STATEMENT)
Hello my dear cousin. I know not how this letter shall reach you, but I sincerely hope that it does. There is a Man in my village. Now, that is not as mundane of a statement as you would think. This is not just some common man. He is more. He came to us towards the end of the thawing winter and we welcomed him in. He would hunt and fish in the nearby forests and streams as to bring meat and pelts for bartering, and he would venture below the soil to return with dazzling gemstones. In return, we would supply him with the simple amenities the town's craftsmen had to offer. This happy relationship supplied the village with much more meat than we normally had, and we had gained a friend. This peace continued even after the Man befriended a wolf. It was the most miraculous thing, a savage wolf as gentle as the cats we had in our settlement. After that, his hunts started yielding much more.
Though I considered this Man a comrade, it changed when I watched him fell a tree using nary a tool. The happenings started getting stranger from there. This Man started venturing out at nights, he seemed restless and when asked would always claim that he was seeking something. I was wary of him, but the greed that glittered in my townsfolk eyes for those gemstones dissuaded me from raising my growing alarm to the others. Then this Man shifted his attention. He was no longer searching, instead, he started constructing a large building off the side of the village. It looked to be a long set of stables, although the stalls seemed far too small for the cows and sheep we herded. When asked what it was for, the Man would always say it was to house the livestock.
I suppose this should have alerted me that something was wrong, but I garner some comfort in the thought that I could never have devised something this cruel. About 2 months went by and, with the aid of the townsfolk whom he gifted those gemstones, the stables were completed. There was one full day of celebration around the building to commemorate its completion and the Man introduced us to a new drink he had brewed. I should not have drinken it. But everyone was so alive with laughter it seemed only right to join in. That night was the last night our village ever knew of peace.
I awoke, as I am to believe like the rest of my lifelong friends did, in a wooden container. I could see enough light through the cracks to know it was dawn. That morning I waited as the sun rose and the screams began. I am still in this box as I write this letter, using the rudimentary materials at hand, as are the rest of the village. If you receive this letter cousin, please do not come for us, the Man is here.
GRIAN (ARCHIVIST)
Statement ends.
Well, ermm. That certainly explains the, shall we say “messy” state of this letter, though I do wonder how it ended up getting to us seeing its age and the context of its making. Since there are no names in this document, follow up is impossible. There is one thing however. Among various townships from about 1723 to 1742 there were reports of entire settlements being empty with no sign of where the inhabitants had gone. Hrrmm.
End recording.
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