Here Be Dragons
Original notation by Doctor Richard Golde, November 26th 1986.
Revised by Maximilian Golde, head of the Golde Research Foundation, April 13th 2024.
File: A03
Class: Entity
Location: Balder
[R]
It was about two weeks after
the Hawthrope case when I actually began my expeditions into town. I did not find much, and talking to the local populous revealed a certain refusal of any mention of the supernatural, sometimes even a complete ignorance of it. People here seem to prefer that the paranormalities in their town go unmentioned, which isn’t the strangest idea I suppose. When I began to exit the main town and enter into the fields surrounding it, I noticed a police van standing in the centre of one of them. As someone looking for trouble, I walked over to introduce myself and offer any assistance that might be required.
When the two officers noticed me and attempted to stop me from approaching, I had already examined the scene plentifully. There was a large hole in the middle of the field with police tape surrounding it. In the back of the van sat a man covered in dirt whom I now know is named Martin Manesbury, who owned the field. I explained to the police what I do and they still wouldn’t let me near the hole nor the farmer. The man looked up at me, and even from a distance, I could see the pure dread in his eyes. Something unnatural had happened here and I was not about to just let it go. However, I also did not want to get arrested, so I left it for now, planning to return at a later time.
At midnight that very same day, I grabbed my coat and a torch and went back to the field. It was dark and pouring, but besides all that, I had been right to come back. There was no more police. The tape was still there, but not a body in sight. Shining the torch into the hole, I could not believe what I saw. Not just a hole, but a tunnel. It must have been over two meters in diameter, though I did not bring any tools to check for certain. At the bottom of the hole lay what appeared to be a wooden ladder. It struck me then, that whatever had made this tunnel must have breached the ground here. That farmer must have seen it, or at least noticed the large hole in the ground and investigated. I decided that I best track down the farmer as soon as possible to interview him about this. It just so happened I did not have to look far, as he came into my office the very next day.
INTERVIEWED: Martin Manesbury, Balder Farmer.
CONCERNING: The large hole in his field and what dug it.
DATE: November 22
nd 1986
This is what you do right? Fight monsters? I actually have no idea, but when I talked to John about it, he said you’d helped him so… Well I don’t really want you to help me… It’s hard to explain. Anyway, I guess I’ll just try.
I couldn’t sleep that night. I’ve always had trouble sleeping when it rains, the water just hits too loudly on my roof. My bed’s right under it, you see, and with how hard it rains in the valley, I’ve just never gotten used to it, is all. It had to be that night, of course, when I saw the worm. It was the night of the 5
th. I couldn’t sleep and went to get a glass of water. Above my kitchen sink is a window and, when I looked out, there it was, writhing above the ground. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It looked like a worm, though it couldn’t have been, worms don’t have scales. Worms don’t grow that large.
I was frozen in place. Glass of water firmly gripped in my hand and mouth agape. It was there, and when I put down my glass and rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, it was gone. I would have almost believed my eyes had been playing tricks on me, had it not been for the fact that I saw the tip of it disappearing into the ground. That and the massive hole I found the next day of course… I cannot say what exactly compelled me to have a look though. I grabbed my ladder and a torch, attached a shovel to my back, just in case, and went inside.
The tunnels were large enough to walk through without crouching, walls made of dirt with roots poking out and plenty of insects crawling about. The walls were smooth, though, this tunnel, or whatever it was had not been made just that night. It must have been a coincidence that that worm… Whatever it was, decided to poke its head up right in the middle of my field. Maybe it had been the rain.
I kept walking. And walking. And walking… I didn’t stop, that same thing which had compelled me to climb into the hole with now compelled me to keep walking. It took about an hour before I ran into the first split. The tunnel now went two ways, left or right. I looked left, I looked right, I looked back. And before I knew it I was walking again. I cannot tell you which I chose, I have no idea. And so it went on for hours and hours, maybe even a full day passed of me walking and choosing directions before I regained my senses fully. It happened when my foot struck an obstruction in the road. The moment I snapped back to reality, I could hear a deep rumbling in the dirt around me. It was dark. Pitch black. The kind of dark you could never know without having experienced it. When we close our eyes, we can still see something, blurry colours of the things in front of us. But in there, I felt truly blind.
It was at that moment that I remembered the torch I had brought with me. I took it out and turned it on. Shining in either direction of the tunnel, the light disappeared into more darkness, but shining down I could see what had stopped my movement. A large, white scale, the size of my leg was stuck in the ground. It looked pristine, not a speck of dirt on what was above ground. Seeing that gave me the kick I needed to begin walking back.
More hours passed of me walking aimlessly in any direction. The thing which had robbed me of my awareness while walking through the tunnels the first time was now gone, and I experienced every dreadful second. It took three hours for my torch to die, and I had to begin walking around with one hand on the wall to feel my way. The walls were cold, ice cold, and wet, sending shivers down my spine with every touch. Until they weren’t anymore. After what felt like days, the walls began to feel warmer. And even better, I could see something. The faintest sense of a light somewhere ahead allowed my now adjusted eyes to see the faint outline of the roots and walls surrounding me.
It had been all I could do not to cry tears of joy, as I gained a second wind and began to almost sprint towards the light’s source. I should not have made so much noise. I came onto a large room… cave? I guess. It had a hole in the top of it, allowing light to shine through into it. In the middle of the cave lay… Well, I can only describe it as one thing, skin. Like a snake’s skin. It was curled up, surrounding something in the middle which I could not see, but I felt like I had stumbled into something really bad. Weird that I only realised that then…
The skin was slightly seethrough… From underneath it I could see scorch marks. What I could see through it, though, I cannot describe it. It moved, is all I can say without a doubt. Snake-like movements, though I’m sure it was not just a snake. I almost fainted, though I was able to catch myself before fully losing consciousness. The sound of my foot catching me in my fall echoed through the room and whatever had been moving before now became completely immobile.
I could feel it staring at me.
It did not have eyes though, that’s all I saw before it lunged towards me and I started running.
I don’t remember how I got out of that place. How I found my way back to the farm. When I regained consciousness I had been sitting in a police van. They told me they had gotten calls from my worried neighbours. I had not been seen for weeks, even though it only felt like I had been down there for, at most, a day or two. They never even mentioned the hole. That’s when I saw you. Sir, I don’t want you to fix this. There is nothing to fix here. Do not go into that horrid place. I’m just going to move away to someplace with paved roads and a lot less rain, my brother can take over the farm.
[END OF INTERVIEW]
[R]
I don’t know what to think about this. This is above anything I had expected when I moved here. We all know about Loch Ness, a story which could not be true, merely because of the creature’s size. How could nobody notice something like that? If Martin was walking for weeks, how long are these tunnels underground?
As requested I have not attempted any descent into the hole… When I came back there two days ago, however, the hole was gone. Just, filled in. The signs that there had been a large hole are still there, just no more hole… Who… Where did they get the dirt?
[End of GRF-A03]
[M]
Research into something like this seems quite difficult as Mr. Manesbury never specifies where on his large section of farmland this hole was located. “The middle of the field,” is not quite enough to pin down any exact location. I went out there to do some searching, but almost 40 years later any signs of there ever having been a hole have most likely completely vanished…
His brother did end up taking over the farm. Thomas Manesbury worked that farm for 25 years after which his son took over, Luther Manesbury, who owns it today.
Still, the strangest thing is that I could have sworn I saw the name Martin Manesbury on a gravestone in the local cemetery when I went to have a look at Mr. Hawthrope’s grave. Didn’t he say he wanted to move away? The grave caught my eye because of the small piles of dirt on top of the tombstone… And the worms inside them.
