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I know, Martin, thank you but you can leave. I am trying to record here.
[MUMBLING, DOOR CLOSING]
Martin has started displaying a bit of, hm, paranoia ever since he interviewed Prof. Golding at the New Inn. While I do concede that there is a significant resemblance to both Prof. Golding Sr. and the unknown man from Victor Gadling’s photo, I am unsure if the idea that Tim proposed, that we have an immortal man on our hands, is actually viable.
[SIGH] I will ask Sasha to be on the lookout for other statements mentioning either our mysterious Englishman or the Indian gentleman, I guess.
Ahem.
Statement of Malcolm Chastain, regarding the disappearance of his friend. Original statement given December 23th, 2010. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.
Statement begins.
Just write it down, that’s easier said than done. Fuck, maybe you will read this later and laugh about what an idiot I am, seemingly believing in something supernatural. But it was real. It was real and Nancy is still gone. I don’t know if I will ever see her again.
It was cold, and I know, I know, this whole fucking month has been cold, but that night it was freezing and both of us decided that we should maybe take the underground instead of walking back home. Nancy and me, that is. Maybe I should explain a bit more of our situation, just to make clear why I know for certain that Nancy wouldn’t have left. Not like this, not me. We had met at the party of a friend of a friend, both of us bonding about having moved from small towns to London and how different it was, how expensive. Didn’t take us long to decide to move into a flat together, rent was getting higher and I was out of a job again. We weren’t together or anything like that, Nancy danced in some clubs and when offered enough, well, then she did more than dancing. She always said she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever, she liked sex but romance gave her the hives.
It worked well for us, she got paid for something she enjoyed, I had found a new job in a small bookstore, and when we were both home we lazed around and griped about our customers. I’ve never understood the hype about sex, honestly, I prefer a good backrub, but I didn’t mind Nancy telling me her stories. I think we just clicked together, and I love her. Or loved her. I don’t know. But I do know that she loved me as well, we had lived together for more than two years, and she always introduced me as her partner when we went somewhere. I had met her family, nice people, and Nancy always enthused that her younger sister could maybe take our spare bedroom, the one I slept in before we both decided that we slept better together than apart, if she decided to study in London. What I mean to say is, I know Nancy, ok, and she would have come back to me if she was able. The police didn’t believe me, dismissed her as a sad case of a prostitute on a drug bender or something, never mind that Nancy didn’t even drink.
But back to that night, like I said, freezing cold, Nancy’s work had just finished and I had been out with some friends so we met up to go home together. The station was near empty when we arrived, frost glittering on the benches even there. The only other people up and about were a scruffy white guy and an elderly woman that I’ve seen living on Old Compton Street. They just ignored us, lowly talking in some language I couldn’t understand, and so we huddled together in a corner and waited for the next train.
It was Nancy who made me realize that anything had changed, gripping my arm suddenly with such a strength that I found a ring of purpling bruises the next day. I had been swaying slightly, the cold wind had sobered me up a bit but instead tiredness had started creeping up on me so it took a moment before I realized what had freaked Nancy out. The cold was still there but the wind had disappeared. And with it all noise. My heartbeat was pounding loudly in my ears, even drowning out Nancy’s breathing next to me. Everything else was suddenly blanked in silence. And then the lights went out.
At that moment I learned what true darkness was. It was as if someone had blinded me completely, I could still feel Nancy’s hand on my arm but even though she was standing right next to me I couldn’t make out anything but the blackness around us. And the noise, god, it took me a moment to realize what I was hearing but then I just couldn’t stop. Turns out, the human body can be very loud. It was like being trapped inside my own body and the only thing anchoring me to the here and now was Nancy’s hand. I have no idea how long we stood there but it felt like hours.
And then there was light. Two beams of the brightest light I had ever seen cut through the darkness and heralded with them the arrival of the train. It was the strangest train I had ever seen, what I could make out in the dark was all sleek lines running into patches of what were clearly once part of a steam engine. A door opened, spilling more light into the tunnel and the scruffy guy stepped into the glow followed by the old woman. There was something wrong about them, they seemed unbothered by what had happened and instead seemed to say goodbye to each other. I couldn’t tell for sure, I still couldn’t hear anything besides my heart but their lips formed words and the woman waved Scruffy away. Then she took a step back and vanished into the dark while the guy turned to the train and disappeared inside.
The door didn’t close behind him, it felt like it should have, but it didn’t. Nancy was tugging on my arm, at first hesitantly and then harsher when I couldn’t make my feet move. There was a wild look in her eyes, a fear I had never seen before, and she finally towed me forward into the pale light. The closest thing I can think of to describe the feeling of stepping into that train is taking a shower in honey. It just felt sticky, like something dripping down my head, and there was an overly sweet smell in the air.
Nancy led us to two seats and dragged me down with her and I realized that I could finally hear again. Her breathing was harsh and her eyes wide but there was something else besides the fear inside them now, a steely determination that I had seldomly seen before. I don’t think I have ever loved her more than in that moment, that’s my Nancy, brave even in the face of whatever the bloody hell that was.
I miss her. I think she saved my life.
The door closed and there was a roaring outside, the darkness behind the small windows of the train seemed to churn and twist. My hands trembled but Nancy just gripped me even tighter and stared back at the shadows screaming around the train. She did not blink while I couldn’t look for more than a heartbeat at the thing outside. Whatever it was, it was angry. And hungry, oh so hungry. I am not sure I how I knew that but it was as if someone had carved the knowledge into my brain: the shadows, the darkness, was its and it was angry about losing its meal. My eyes skittered away from it, I feared that I would lose my mind if I looked for too long. Instead, I looked around the compartment and realized that we weren’t alone. And I did not mean scruffy guy, he had sat down and opened up a slim book. There was someone, something else, and I wouldn’t have hesitated to call them, it, a man if I had seen the figure on the street. It wasn’t a man. I have no idea what it was but it wasn’t human. It took the appearance of a gangly guy, paler than anyone I have ever seen before, and with inky hair that seemed to flow in all directions. I stared for a moment before I realized that its hair didn’t stop, it seemed to be flowing into the air around it, like some sort of roots burying into the very existence around us. But its eyes were the most memorable thing, deep and unfathomable, a black so dark that it seemed to swallow all light until a bright spark ignited, growing into the birth of a tiny galaxy. It had stood slouched over the guy that entered before us but, as if feeling my staring, had slowly unwound itself into standing straight beside him and now towered over us all. I swear, it shouldn’t have fit into the compartment, like the rules of the universe didn’t apply to it, it bend the space around it like it seemed akin to a giant looking down at us measly ants. And it saw us, saw me. I can still feel its eyes even now.
I looked away. Nancy was still staring at the windows and didn’t seem to care about the other two so I threw a glance at them again. Scruffy seemed to be amused by something in his book, he chortled and slapped the creature on its arm, pointing at a page. I stared. You know, I wasn’t sure what that thing with us in the train was but I figured that it must have been something like the thing outside, some kind of monster encroaching on the territory of another, wanting to gobble us up. But, whatever the fuck Scruffy was, he couldn’t have been human. Or maybe all Londoners are like that, what do I know, uncaring about possibly enraging the monster under their beds. Whatever he was, he didn’t care about the uncanniness of his companion, and they were companions, I am sure of that, he just turned his head up and grinned at the thing towering above him.
Between one blink and the next it had grown to more human proportions and slouched above Scruffy again, starry eyes finally moving away from us and fixing on the book. And that was it as far as the creature was concerned. Nancy and me, we were seemingly deemed unimportant and so I looked back at her and found her still mesmerized by something outside. The train had started moving, nearly unnoticeable with how silent and smooth it moved along its rails.
“Can you see it?”, Nancy whispered to me and I tried to catch a glimpse of whatever had enthralled her so but all I could see through the windows was the darkness gnashing at them so I shook my head and clutched her hand like it was the only thing tethering me into existence. Maybe it was.
We sat there and waited, I can’t even say for how long because it felt like days to me, just sitting there, trapped, waiting for something, anything to happen. The train didn’t stop once, there were no moments of light, no platforms rushing us by, just darkness outside, and inside of a normal looking train compartment Nancy and me, and Scruffy uncaringly reading his book while the thing leaning on his shoulder seemed content to listen to his smooth voice whenever he pointed at something. The sweet smell still hung in the air and after a while everything took on a hazy, dreamlike quality, slowly soothing me to sleep. I would have actually fallen asleep if Nancy hadn’t suddenly pinched my side and startled me awake again. Her eyes had taken on a slightly glassy quality but otherwise she seemed much more present than me. I opened my mouth, no idea what I even wanted to ask, but she just shook her head. So, we sat in silence and waited.
The next thing that seemed actually real to me was the sudden light outside and the train coming to a slow stop. I roused myself and stared out of the windows. It was a platform, I am sure of that, and I tried to stand up but Nancy’s grip on my hand stopped me. You know, for a moment I was tempted to rip my arm away and bustle through the door opening, just getting far away from this nightmare but then I saw Nancy’s thin lips and squinting eyes and the urge left me.
“Are we in London?”, she asked and startled me with how loud her voice was in the quiet of the train. I was confused until I realized that she wasn’t talking to me, she had called out to the other two inhabitants of the train and for the first time since we had gotten onto this ride the creature turned its eyes back upon us.
“In a manner”, it said and its voice was like falling sand. Nancy nodded to herself and replied, “will it let us return?” And she stood up, taking me with her. The thing seemed to ponder that question for a moment, “do you want to return, Nancy McCullum? You can see it, can’t you?” I was confused and frightened, tugging on Nancy’s hand to get her to move but she wouldn’t budge. That was her, my Nancy, unmoveable when she wanted to, utterly uncaring about whatever someone else thought or wanted when she decided she didn’t care.
She glanced outside and frowned, “What about Malcolm then? Will he find the way home?” I have no idea what they were talking about, it was like they knew something I couldn’t hope to catch a glimpse of. I darted a glance down to Scruffy but he seemed content to just sit there and follow along the conversation. I turned and asked Nancy what she was talking about, what did she see that I could not? But she just shook her head and smiled wistfully, “Malcolm, I need you to do me a favour and step through that door. Don’t look back until you get back above.” With that, she released my hand and gave me a slight push. I felt a bit like a new born fawn then, shaking legs and unsteady steps all, and I hesitated in front of the open door, an unassuming platform beyond it. How could I go? What about Nancy, would she be trapped here, caught in this train to never leave? No, I thought to myself, not without her.
“Malcolm Chastain, you should trust in your friend. Go now and return home,”, the creature spoke to me then and slowly blinked its galaxies at me, “this dream is now over.”
And with that I stepped through the door as if hypnotized, next thing I know I was standing in Knightsbridge without any clue how exactly I had gotten there. I tried to find the platform again but no luck, it was as if I had dreamed it up, a safe haven after the nightmare before. In the end I went home and waited for Nancy but she never came back. It’s been nearly a week since then and the police doesn’t care. Her parents don’t seem to care either or they’re very good at appearing uncaring, they’ve invited me to Christmas and I plan on travelling to them. In my free time I’ve been walking Old Compton Street in hopes of seeing the old woman again but had no luck so far. It feels like I should be much closer to discover anything about what happened but it’s as if someone is hiding the needed information from me. Maybe someone is, what do I know about supernatural creatures taking non-existent trains.
I found your institute online, maybe you guys know something about what happened, know a way to get her back.
Everything has been greyer since she disappeared.
Statement ends.
Well, I am not quite sure what to think about Mr Chastain’s recount. He did write that he was drunk at the time of the incident even if he did claim to have sobered up. So it is quite possible that he imagined the more, ahem, fantastical parts of his encounter. I asked Tim to see if we could find anything about Nancy McCullum’s disappearance but the police didn’t spend much time on her missing case. What is much more interesting is the fact that Mr Chastain also seemingly has disappeared into thin air. His friends and family reported him as missing shortly after Christmas. Tim traced his steps back as far as she could and it seems that he did travel to the McCullum family and called his parents after arriving. After that his trail just disappears but even more worryingly is that the McCullum also vanished into thin air.
Sasha has buried herself in some other case files after she read that Mr Chastain could only recall arriving in Knightsbridge. She claims that there have been other statements that mention the place and some sort of darkness. I am uncertain if the place does hold any significance whatsoever but I do trust Sasha’s competence.
I’ve sent Martin to see if he can find out anything about the old woman Mr Chastain talked about and he managed to find her on Old Compton Street. She calls herself Hettie and Martin describes her as a rather rude individual. But she did have some information for us even if she refused to step into the institute. According to her, Mr Chastain and Ms McCullum were “lucky” and that there was no need to search for them any further as they were exactly where they needed to be. After questioning her some more, she blocked him off but not before letting Martin know that “London is an old girl and dreams and memories have the habit of sticking around here, even if somewhat twisted.” She did refuse to disclaim anything about “Scruffy” or who his companion could be.
For now we will have to be satisfied with the information we got but I do hope that we will manage to interview her again in the future as she seems to know much more than she let on.
End recording.
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