CASE 0295 : M-M-R-L-O-N-6-L-E-6-S

Interviewer: XXXXX
Interviewee: XXXX XXX
Date of interview: XX.XX.2019
Location of interview: XXXXXXXXX, United Kingdom
List of acronyms: SP=XXXX XXX, IN=Interviewer

[Transcript continued from pause 00:32:25]

IN: I need you to confirm the details once again from the start.

SP: Everything? Seriously? Were you not recording from the start?

IN: We were but this is for clarification. Please speak into the microphone clearly.

SP: Where do I start?

IN: When it began. In the afternoon of XXXXXX. You were sleeping?

SP: Yeah, yes… I woke up on from a nap to my neighbours knocking on my door. They had been removing their patio and so I thought they might have wanted to borrow something or have an extra set of helping hands. But there was a problem. They had hit something. They called it a pipe at the time.

IN: And what happened next?

SP: Well I went to have a look. I’ve only been living there for a year so when someone says they hit a pipe that leads to your house it’s always best to look. There was no water spewing from it so that was good. It was old looking. Made of clay maybe. I didn’t know what to do about it to be honest. The neighbours were apologising but how could they have known. These were old stone houses that had stood the test of time. So we were always expecting to find one or two surprises. Instead of taking the neighbours offer to just close it up I wanted to see what its purpose was for. So I asked if they could deal with it being open for a day or two and they agreed. I managed to get rid of most of the dirt that had piled in when they broke it. There was something odd about the shape of it. I’ve only known pipes to be circular and this one was more rectangular. It was about fifty centimeters wide but shallow – very shallow. Like twenty centimeters. Then my wife noticed these small bones. Tiny rodent skulls and other parts. Immediately after that she was on the phone to an exterminators.

IN: To make it known I’m bringing evidence Zero-Zero-Five out of it’s box and putting it into the DVD player. Please can you describe what you are seeing as I play the footage. If you want me to pause please say so.

SP: Okay.

[Shuffling sounds and TV being wheeled into place.]

IN: What can we see?

SP: We can see the exterminator, XXXXXXXX, on the screen as he wiped the camera lens. He said it was like a drain snake. You can slide it through the pipes and walls and see what’s going on. Press play again. Yeah so here it’s going through the point where the neighbours broke it open. The space looks dry as it continues going forward. Nothing here just more of the tunnel. We decided to check where the pipe leads to first just in case. An electrician had told me that a few of these houses he had worked on had their own airways made underground. To vent the house and stop it from getting damp. Pause here. This here. You see that black nothingness ahead. That’s where the tunnel stops and goes up somehow. The length was running short on the camera so we had to stop pushing it there.

IN: Did you check where that pipe stopped?

SP: We did. We followed the general direction of the tunnel and from the length of the cameras lead it stopped twelve foot behind the sheds where the common is.

IN: The common?

SP: It’s where dog walkers go mostly. Just a small stretch of field and woods before the dual carriageway. And that’s where we found it. The entrance. It was very well hidden under a thorn bush. It had this rusted metal grate that you could open if you bent down low enough. (inaudible) Excuse me. We can fast forward the video here as it’s just the exterminator pulling the camera back. (Pause) Am I doing this right?

IN: You’re not missing anything out I hope.

SP: No, I’m trying to be as detailed as possible. You’ve seen the photos haven’t you?

IN: I have.

SP: It’s wrecked my wife. She’s been staying at her parents for two weeks now. The sight of it…

IN: Can you continue here. The camera is now going back into the pipe.

SP: It’s a tunnel not a pipe. XXXXX called it a crawlspace.

IN: Okay so the camera is being pushed down into the crawlspace once more.

SP: Yeah this time it’s facing our house. You can see as we go further in – like right there. And there. Those are more small bones left. Pause it here… Thanks. In the up left corner you can just about see the markings. Scratches maybe. Unpause please. You can see them throughout. I think they are letters. You’ll see what I mean in a moment. We are under my house now. It’s wider here and you can see the concrete above just slightly. My wood flooring is just above. That’s trash in the corners. Bits of wrappers, magazine pages, and more bits of bone. That larger white blur between the pictures of women – that’s a cats skull they confirmed a few days later. Seriously somehow it managed it drag some poor cat through that space and ate it under our livingroom. I didn’t want to say anything but the neighbours two doors down lost their cat a month ago.

IN: And those are the markings you mentioned correct? On the longer end of the wall.

SP: Yes. Wait a moment for the camera to focus and- there. You see that. That’s an M I’m certain of it.

IN: And do these scratches spell anything out to you?

SP: You know they do. It’s its name. You can’t say it couldn’t write. The thing looked like it was collecting all those ripped up magazine clippings of men all day and you think it couldn’t think or read. Here it is on the screen. Pause here. Thanks. M-M-R-L-O-N-6-L-E-6-S.

IN: And what do you think that means?

SP: What do you think it means?

IN: It means nothing to me. I am interviewing you – what does it mean to you?

SP: I- we- think it’s their name. M-m-r is kinda like murmur or mama.

IN: And the numbers?

SP: I don’t think it’s a six really but actually a “G”. The exterminator noticed it first. He called it Daddy Long Legs wife. Mama Long Legs if you replace six. That’s the name or words that it writes all across the tunnel and up past the goddamn vent where we found what was left of it. Jesus.

IN: Speak calmly sir. You are referring to these… Make it known I am showing the photos taken of what was found on the property.

SP: I can’t look at it. Don’t make me describe it.

IN: Sir. You need to say what’s in the photograph.

(Long Pause)

SP: It was a few days after the fumigation. We were doing the walk through when we noticed the smell coming from the downstairs bathroom. The image your showing me is what we pulled out from the wall. You can see three of its legs hanging loose from the hole. Translucent skin and black bone. It’s thin as a rod and the length of a baseball bat. It’s making me sick thinking about it living, breathing, listening as it climbed through the walls. The crawlspace. All the while me and XXXXX watched TV or showered. You’re going to sort this out right? I can’t go back there.

IN: Let it be known we are ending the interview. Please exit the room and an officer will escort you to the next room.

SP: You still haven’t found it have you? (inaudible) I swear I (inaudible). Sir. (shuffling)

End of recording.

When a person or neighbour in your village cries out “troll”, lock your children inside the house and keep your hunting rifle by your side. I used to believe they were only children’s tales supposed to scare the kids from stepping deep into caves or under bridges. They had bright pink hair and you stuck them onto the end of your pencil. There was nothing to fear because they were nowhere to be seen.

This all changed a few years ago. I was walking Hunter through the forest on a warm Summer’s day. He was off the lead and jumping through bushes and hopping over streams and rarely waited for me. But when I stopped to tie my shoes I looked up and he was gone. There was nothing but the faint groans of pigs. I moved through the bushes closer to the noise and to stop Hunter from scaring the animals. Clearing through the bushes I saw what looked like three children all dressed in black. They were hopping around the front of a cave and throwing something between them. I stepped closer and noticed they were not children at all. Standing four-foot-tall and covered in wiry black fur. They squatted at the entrance and squealed as they chucked something against the rocks. Stamping the ground and smashing their swollen grey hands down onto the item like they were pressing grapes for wine. Their faces were a mess of mangy hair and bulbous snout covered in warts. For a second I caught sight of their small pebble black eyes scan the trees. I stood horrified as one flung the creature they had been stomping on to the other. Amidst all the blood I saw one of the trolls spinning Hunter’s collar between its fingers. They were throwing my German Shepherd around like he was nothing more than a wet towel. They squealed and painted their cave red with his blood. Only after some time had passed, they finally grew bored and lazily clambered back into the darkness. As I stood there paralysed in fear the last thing I heard where the echoed howls of twenty more.

When I returned to the village and told them of the trolls the older men looked at me displeased. They said they had warned us many times of the trolls, but no-one listened. It was several days later when I heard that they had built a fence around the cave and done nothing more. Looking back now I agree with how they handled it. It was too much of a risk to try and fight them as an angry troll will often follow you home and sniff out your loved ones. Best to let them lay in their caves and hope you don’t catch their eye.