THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES #2 – Do Not Open - Horror Narration/Horror Stories

Rustique will present the Magnus archive [Music] episode 2 do not over [Music] statement of Joshua Gillespie regarding his time and possession of an apparently empty wooden casket original statement given November 22nd 1998 audio recording by jonathan sims head archivist of the magnus institute london statement begins it started when I was in Amsterdam for a holiday with a few of my friends everything you're thinking right now you're right we were all early 20s just graduated and decided to spend a couple of weeks going crazy on the continent so you can almost certainly fill in all the blanks yourself there were very few points where I'd say that I was entirely sober and even fewer where I acted like it so I wasn't quite as bad as some of my friends who had a hard time handling themselves at times this may have been why I headed out alone that morning no idea of the exact date but it was sometime in mid-may the others were sleeping off their assorted hangovers and I decided to head out into the beautiful sunshine of that Netherlands morning and take a walk before graduation from Cardiff with the others I had been studying architecture so I was looking forward to spending a few hours by myself to wander and clearly take in the buildings of sent around to them I was not disappointed it's a beautiful city but I realized too late that I hadn't taken any map or guidebook with me and an hour or two later I was thoroughly lost I wasn't particularly worried because it was still mid-afternoon at this point and getting lost in the back streets that kind of being what I was trying to do but I still decided I'd better make an actual efforts to find my way back to where my friends and I was staying off LM strapped I managed it eventually but my inability to speak Dutch meant I spent a good hour riding the wrong way on the various trams by the time I got back to Ellen abstract it was starting to get dark I was feeling quite stressed so I decided to pop into one of the cafes to relax before joining up with my friends I couldn't say for sure exactly how long I was in there but I do know it had gotten fully dark by the time I noticed I wasn't fat at my table alone I've tried to describe the man who now sat opposite me many times but it's difficult he was short very short and felt like he had an odd density to him his hair was brownish I think cut quite short he was clean-shaven his face and dress were utterly unremarkable and the more I tried to think of exactly what he looked like the harder it is to picture him clearly to be honest though I'm inclined to blame that on the drugs the man introduced himself as John and asked how I was I replied as best I could and he nodded saying he was also an Englishman inside a foreign land I remember he used that exact phrase because it struck me at the time was very odd he said he was from Liverpool though I've been recalled him having any sort of accent that he was looking for a friend who he could rely on for a favor now hi as I was I got suspicious as soon as he said that last part and I started to shake my head John said it was nothing too onerous just looking after a package for him until he had some friends pick it up that he would pay well I thought he was talking about smuggling and was about to refuse again when he reached into his jacket I think and pulled out an envelope inside was ten thousand pounds I know I counted it I knew it was a stupid move but I kept remembering my friend Richard telling me how easy it had been to get a pound of hash through customs on his first trip to Holland and holding that much cash in my hand I said yes John smiled thanked me and said that he would be in touch he left the coffee shop and I immediately started panicking about what I had agreed to I wanted to chase after him and return the money but something weighed me down kept me locked into my seat I just sat there for a long time I don't remember much about the next few days except worrying about when I'd see John again I was careful not to spend any of the money he'd given me they decided to return it as soon as he turned up I'd say I had made a mistake and couldn't take his money or look after anything from him I tried to enjoy myself but it was like this shadow hanging over me and I couldn't stop thinking about it I waited for days right up until the end of our trip but he never showed up I obsessively checked my suitcase before boarding the plane home just in case someone had snuck something into it but there was nothing new in there I flew back to England with my friends still hi and 10,000 pounds tucked into my coat pocket it was surreal it wasn't until almost a year later that I felt confident enough to actually spend any of the money I'd moved down to work for a small architect's firm in Bournemouth on the south coast it was an entry-level job and the pay wasn't great but it was the only offer I got in my chosen field so I moved down there with the hopes of getting some experience and a better position in a year or two Bournemouth was a decent-sized seaside town so much less idyllic than I'd assumed it would have been but rents for a place of my own were a little bit out of my price range given my starting pay grade I didn't know anyone else down there and wasn't keen to share my space with strangers so I decided to use some of the money I'd been giving him out to down the previous year I reasoned they were unlikely to find me at this stage I had not given John any of my details when he spoke to me not even my name if they hadn't been able to find me over the course of the last year it was doubtful they'd be able to track me here also if it had been drug smuggling as I suspected 10,000 pounds probably wasn't so much money to them that they tracked me this far over it also and looking back this sounds stupid but I just grown a beard I thought it would be hard for anyone to recognize me as the same guy so I spent a bit of John's money on renting a nice one-bedroom flat in the Triangle near the town centre and moved in almost immediately about a week later I was in my kitchen cutting up some fruit for breakfast I heard the doorbell ring I answered it to see two red face two delivery men between them they carried an immense package which they clearly had to maneuver up the narrow stairs at the building I lived in they asked if I was Joshua Gillespie and when I said yes they said they had a delivery addressed to me and pushed past into the hall they didn't seem to be from any delivery company I knew and they weren't wearing any uniforms I tried to ask them some questions but as soon as they had placed the box on the floor they turned around and walked out they were both well over six feet tall and very imposing so there was little I could have done to stop them and leaving even if I wanted to the door slammed behind them I was left alone with this package it was about two meters long maybe one meter wide and roughly the same deep it was filled with parcel paper written on the top was my name and address in six curving letters but there was no return address or postmark of any sort I was starting to risk being late for work at this point but I decided I couldn't bring myself to leave without seeing what was inside so I fetched the knife from my kitchen counter and cut the tape keeping the Box closed inside was a coffin I don't know what I expected but it wasn't that my knife thought the floor and I just stared at it in real surprise it was made of unvarnished pale yellow wood and had a thick metal chain wrapped around it which were closed at the top with a heavy iron padlock the lock was closed but had the key sitting inside it I started to reach for it when I noticed two other things on the coffin lid the first was a piece of paper folded in half and tucked under the chain which I took the other was the presence in three words scratched deep into the wood of the casket in letters three inches high they read do not open I would drew my hand from the padlock slowly I was sure what I was supposed to do at some point I must have sat down as I found myself on the floor propped up against the wall staring at this bizarre thing that it explicably turned up at my home I remembered the piece of paper at this point unfolded it but it simply read delivered with gratitude J strange this sounds it was only then I made the connection with the man I'd met in Amsterdam he's told me he wanted to someone to look after a package for a while was this the package he was talking about was I to be looking after a corpse who was coming to pick it up when I called in sick to work and just sat there watching the coffin for might have being minutes or might have been hours I just had no idea what to do eventually I steal myself and moved towards it till my face was just inches away from the lid I took a deep breath trying to see if I could smell anything from inside nothing if there was a dead body in there and hadn't started to smell yet not that I really knew what a dead body smelled like it was early summer at this point which would mean that they must have died recently if there was a body in there at all as I got up I hand brushed the wood of the coffin I realized it was warm daily when I could have been lying in the Sun for hours something about it made my flesh crawl slightly I was grew my hand quickly I decided to make a cup of pain it was something of a relief standing next to the kettle from that angle I couldn't see being after the hole I could just ignore it I didn't move even after I felt my mug I just stood there sipping my tea not even noticing it was still far too hot to drink comfortably and I finally got the nerve to step back out into the hall the cotton still lay there unmoving I finally made a decision that firmly gripping the padlocked I removed the key placed it on the hall table next to the door I then took hold of the coffin little chain who started to pull it further into my flat it was weird to touch it the would still have that unsettling words to it but the chain was as cold as you'd expect from a thick piece of iron apparently haven't taken on any of the heat I didn't have any cupboards with enough space to hold the thing so in the end I just dragged it into my living room and pushed it up against the wall was out of the way as possible I cut up the cardboard box would have been sealed in and put it with the rubbish outside just like that I heard apparently started storing a coffin in my home at the time I think I assumed it was full of drugs at least as far as I assumed anything about the situation why anyone would store something in such a noticeable way or with a total stranger like me these weren't questions I could even get an answer to but I decided it was best to think about it as little as possible for the next few days I avoided my living room as I found being so close to the thing made me nervous I was also staying alert for the smell of any sort of rot which might indicate there was something dead inside the coffin after all I never smelled anything Island as the days passed I found myself noticing my mysterious charge less and less about a week after it arrived I finally started using my living room again I'd watch TV mostly and keep half an eye on the unmoving casket at one point I got so cocky as to actually use it as a table I was drinking a glass of orange juice at the time and absent-mindedly placed it on top of the lid not really realizing exactly what I had done at least not until I heard movement from underneath it I froze listening intently and staring willing myself to have been imagining things but then it came again a soft but insistent scratching just below where I had placed my glass it was slow and deliberate caused gentle ripples to spread across the surface of my juice needless to say I was terrified more than that I was confused the coffin had been lying in my living room chained and unmoving for well over a week at this point if there have been anything living in there when it was delivered it seemed unlikely it would still be alive and why hadn't it made any sound before if there was something in there capable of movement I gently picked up my glasses it means you need the scratching stopped I waited for some time considering my options before I placed it back down on the other end of the lid it took about four seconds for the scratching to start up again now more insistently when I took the glass away this time it didn't stop for another five minutes I decided against doing any further experiments and instead made the very deliberate decision to ignore it I felt at that point I either needed to use the heavy iron key to open it and see for myself what was in there or follow the gouge to instruction the resolve of myself to never look inside some might call me a coward but I decided on the latter that I would interact with it as little as possible while it lived in my house well I guess lived maybe the long term I knew I'd made the right decision the next time it rained I heard the Box begin tomorrow it was a Saturday and I was spending the day staying in and doing some light reading I had a few friends in Bournemouth something about having a mysterious coffin lying in my living room made me reluctant to make the sort of connections that might lead to people coming round and so I spent most of my free time alone I didn't watch a lot of television even before my living room was taken over with storing this thing so I now found myself sat in my room reading quite a lot I remember I just started Michael Crichton's the lost world at the time and it started raining outside it was a hard heavy rain the thought that falls straight down with no wind to disturb it till everything is dark and wet it was barely past midday but I remember the sky was so overcast and gloomy I had to get up to turn on the light that was when I heard it it was a low gentle sound I've seen doll of the dead I know what the groans of the undead are meant to sound like but it wasn't that at all it was almost melodia sounded almost like singing it was muffled by 20 feet of hard-packed soil at first I thought it might have been coming from one of the other flats in my building but as it went on hairs on my arm began to stand on end I knew I just knew where it was coming from I walked to the living room and stood in the doorway watching the field wooden box continued alone it's soft musical sound out of the rain there was nothing to be done I've made my decision not to open it and this certainly did not make me want to reconsider that so I just went back to my bedroom put on some music and turned it up loud enough to drown out the sounds and so it continued for a few months whatever was in the casket would scratch at anything placed on top of it and moan whenever it rained and that was that I suppose it goes to show that you can get used to anything if you have to no matter how bizarre I occasionally considered to trying to get rid of it or finding people like you guys to investigate but in the end I decided that I was actually more afraid of whoever was responsible for entrusting me with the coffin and I was of the actual coffin itself so I kept it secret the only thing that worried me was sleeping I think it gave me bad dreams I don't remember my dreams never have and if I was getting nightmares they were no different I didn't remember them and I certainly don't now but I know I kept waking up in a panic clutching at my throat and struggling to breathe I also started sleepwalking the first time that happened it was the cold that woke me up it was the middle of winter and I can not keep the heating on when I'm asleep it took me a few seconds to fully process where I was I was standing in the dark in my living room over the coffin what concerned me more about the situation the fact that when I awoke I seemed to be holding the key to it in my hand obviously this worried to me I even went to my GP about it referred me to the sleep clinic of the nearby hospital but the problems never occurred in the clinical setting I decided to hide the key in more and more difficult to access places but still I kept waking up with it I was starting to panic when I woke one morning to find I'd actually placed the key within the lock and was as far as I could tell moments from opening it I knew I had to find a solution in the end what I took to doing was perhaps a bit elaborate but it seems work I would place the key within a bowl of water then put it in the freezer casing it in a solid block of ice I still sometimes found myself trying to get to the key in my sleep but the chill of the ice always woke me up to one before I could do anything with it and in the end it just became yet another part of my routine I lived like that for almost a year and a half funny how fairs and just become as routine as hunger the certain point I just accepted it my first clue that my time keeping a coffin was coming to an end when it began to rain and there was silence I didn't notice at first as my habit at that point had been to put on the music as soon as the weather began to turn but after a few minutes I realized that there wasn't any people to drown out I turned off my music I went to check the living room was silent then came a knock at the door the sound was light a lot of rusev that rang out like thunder in a quiet flap I knew what I'd see as soon as I opened the door and I was like John the to delivery men stood there I wasn't surprised to see them as I say but they actually seemed quite surprised to see me John had to take a second to look me up and down almost in disbelief as I asked that they've come to collect that coffin he said that they had and he hoped it hadn't been too much trouble I told him where he could stick it he didn't seem to have an answer for that he did seem genuinely impressed however and I got the key out with the freezer I didn't even try to throw it I was so eager to have this thing out of my life that I just dropped the bowl of ice from the floor and shattered it I watched as John picked the ICG off the floor and I told them it was in the living I didn't follow them I didn't want to see what they did with the coffin I didn't want to see if they opened it and when the screaming started I didn't want to see who was screaming or why I only left the kitchen when the two delivery men carried the coffin past the door I followed them down the stairs watched in the pouring rain and they locked it into a small van marked beacon and hope deliveries then they drove away there was no sign of John that was the last I heard of it I got a new job and moved to London shortly afterwards and now I just try not to think about him too much statement ends it's always nice to hear that my hometown is not entirely devoid of odd occurrences and eerie stories ice cream beaches and boredom are all very well but I'm glad to hear Bournemouth has at least a few apparitions to call its own that said the fact is mr. Gillespie statement starts with drug use and continues on with the lack of corroborating witnesses being a central theme which means that an eerie story is all that it is when the Institute first investigated it doesn't look like they were able to find a single piece of evidence to support the existence of this scratched coffin and to be honest I didn't think it was worth wasting anyone's time over now nearly twenty years later that said I did mention it to Tim yesterday and apparently he did some digging of his own freaking and hope did in fact exist and were a courier service that operated until 2009 when they went into liquidation they were based in nottingham however significantly north of Bournemouth and if they kept records of their deliveries they are no longer available what is interesting however is the address mr. Gillespie provided for the flat this all took place in the Housing Association that ran it does keep extensive records on the tenants that have lived in their buildings going back some 40 or 50 years from what Tim could find it appears that the two years of his residence mr. Gillespie was the only person living in that entire building with the other seven flats being utterly vacant nobody moved in the following his departure the building was sold to a developer and demolished shortly after this statement was originally given predictably no one who worked for that Housing Association in the 90s is still there despite Tim best efforts we could get no explanation for why in a building of that size mr. Gillespie spent almost two years living alone saved for an old wooden coffin recording ends [Music] the Magnus archives is a podcast distributed by rusty Qualcomm and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution non-commercial share-alike international license today's episode was written by Jonathan Singh it was reportedly produced by Marie Porter and directed by Alexander Jane you are to comment on episodes make donations and view links images videos and show notes is it lust in flavor from Rachael review of the lighting visit us on Facebook tweet us on Twitter at the rusty grill or email us at mail at rust equals on top thanks Phyllis [Music]

Channel: Rusty Quill Podcasts

Views: 416,386

Keywords: Podcast, scary, story, spooky, creepy pasta, tape, Do Not Open, Magnus Archives, Horror, supernatural, cassette, monsters, series, creepy, ghost, fear, Terror, serial, meta, monologue, monster, audio, Jonny Simms, Horror Narration / Horror Podcast, Horror Stories

Id: vvmC2lq2TLQ

Length: 25min 32sec (1532 seconds)

Published: Fri Mar 17 2017