The Dark Somnium - "A lost paramilitary tape from the 1990’s has been rediscovered, Do not watch it"

Episode Date: January 31, 2021

A lost paramilitary tape from the 1990’s has been rediscovered--- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/darksomnium/message Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

The following transcript is taken from a Garda Missing Persons Report, dated December 5, 2020. The subject's name is Paul O'Shea, age 32. Mr. O'Shea is, or was, a mature PhD student at the School of Irish History in Waterford Institute. A Waterford native, Mr. O'Shea has been traveling back and forth to the north whilst researching for his thesis, entitled The Cultural Impact of the Waterford Institute. cultural impact of the Northern Irish Troubles, 1969 to 1998. Due to COVID restrictions, he's been self-isolating at a small, rented cottage in Kilkenny County. His family and friends

stated how Mr. O'Shea welcomed the opportunity to work at a quiet location, and said he had a considerable amount of material to catalog and analyze. He was reported missing by his mother after repeated calls went unanswered. Guarda officers attending the scene found evidence of foul play and suspected an abduction. However, there are no witnesses forthcoming and no evidence of where he was taken, or who took him. An audio file was found on Mr. O'Shea's laptop, which was deemed relevant to the case. This recording will be shared here to shine a light on the police cover-up and to provide

a warning to others who may foolishly consider following Mr. O'Shea's example. November 22nd. My voluntary self-isolation begins today. I plan to commit the next fortnight to my work, and I hope to have finished the first draft of this section by the time I emerge. My rented cottage is basic and isolated, but has a fairly serviceable Wi-Fi connection, which should meet my requirements. My current area of research is paramilitary propaganda videos from the late 1980s and early 1990s,

a key period of the conflict that saw a final flurry of violence prior to the paramilitary ceasefire of 1994. As I've previously stated in my introduction, the Northern Irish Troubles was one of the most comprehensively covered conflicts during the latter half of the 20th century. To a significant extent, this is due to cultural bias, and perhaps an unconscious racism. After all, the Troubles was a conflict that occurred in the Western world, and all the participants were white and spoke English.

That said, the media coverage and academic studies of the conflict differ significantly from the material produced or authorized by the paramilitary groups themselves. The latter can broadly be categorized as propaganda, although the same label could be applied to much of the output of the British and Irish governments of the time. Nevertheless, paramilitary groups operating during the troubles were evidently interested in their public image and sought to demonstrate how they were fighting a just war rather than raging terrorist campaigns. This is particularly true of the Provisional IRA and of other Republican groups who wish

to depict themselves as freedom fighters. For the coming days, I will be reviewing multiple films and clips from this period and recording my initial thoughts before I conduct a more detailed analysis. November 23rd. I scrolled through dozens of videos and watched about 10 hours of footage today. Much of it was generic material relating to news reports, stock footage of riots, the aftermath of bombings, etc. Other scenes are clearly staged, but nevertheless of interest.

Firing parties at funerals and masked gunmen arriving at street rallies are common fare. There's a Robin Hood-type feel to many of these videos, with masked rebels holding aloft smuggled Kalashnikovs as an act of open defiance against the authorities. Some of the footage has a surreal edge to it. For example, one clip shows an IRA unit entering a social club in West Belfast. Clearly, the drinking den is frequented by Republican's. supporters, as the armed men are enthusiastically applauded as they make their way to the stage. One man spoke into the microphone whilst holding a revolver in his other hand, reading a statement

on behalf of the battalion staff. The statement was predictably mundane and cliched. What struck me, however, was how nervous the young masked man seemed. He was visibly shaking as he studded his way through the reading. It was unclear whether he feared a rest or was simply frightened of public speaking. In any event, I think I've covered enough for one day. Time to rest up and start a fresh tomorrow morning. November 24th. Another day spent in front of a screen. Much of the footage I've reviewed as dull and tedious, but certain pieces stand out. Relatively well known is a documentary entitled The IRA Speaks, filmed by a French production company in 1992. The film includes

a number of notable scenes. In one, an IRA unit patrols a housing estate in Derry City, masked men with assault rifles move in military-style formation, taking cover behind garden walls and letter boxes as they scan the area with their guns. There was a moment of dark comedy when the armed men encounter two elderly women walking down the street with their shopping. The women are clearly unimpressed by the display of bravado. One of the women mutters, Ah, for goodness sake, while her companion shakes her head and tuts. The next scene is set in a rural area, presumably somewhere along the border. On this occasion, the IRA have set up a checkpoint along a narrow stretch of country road.

They hide in hedgerows by the roadside until a car comes into view. One man steps forward, signaling for the vehicle to stop, while the rest of the unit covers the road with their guns. The gunmen are polite and civil to the drivers. asking to see their identification and inquiring where they are traveling to. One middle-aged woman says she is going home to make dinner for her family and is allowed to proceed. There is a cargo cult element to these staged scenes. The IRA are replicating the behaviors of the British Army, carrying out patrols and manning

roadblocks. Their aim here is to demonstrate legitimacy. This afternoon I spent some time on an internet form discussing rare or lost footage this period. I got to chatting with a user calling himself Captain Black. He claims to be in possession of a digitized video, showing the aftermath of an IRA attack from the early 1990s. This isn't strictly what I'm looking for, but it does sound interesting. My university email address is public knowledge anyway, so I see little harm in sharing it with this user. He has agreed to forward me the video in his zip folder. I await his response.

November 25th. I received the file last night and watched it first thing this morning. The converted video was just over five minutes long and entitled, Aftermath of S.A.S. Ambush in Tyrone County. As it transpired, the footage was taken by the security forces and apparently leaked. What it showed was the bloody aftermath of a counterinsurgency operation undertaken by the elite special air service. The video opened with a long-range shot of a bullet-ridden lorry in a car park. A heavy machine gun was physically attached to the rear of the vehicle, indicating that

the lorry had been used in an IRA attack. The cameraman slowly moved closer to the vehicle to reveal a gruesome scene. The driver was still in the cab, having been shot multiple times at close range, with fragments of his skull and brain splattered across the cab's interior. The The cameraman focused on the dead man for a moment, zooming in to emphasize his grotesque head wounds. Then he moved, slowly walking alongside the truck whilst continuing to film. There were two bodies located at the rear of the vehicle, close to the machine gun. Both were riddled with bullets and also had severe head wounds, possibly caused by coup de grace-style close-range executions. They both looked young.

Once again, the cameraman lingered over the gruesome scene. There was blood everywhere. Next, he walked across the car park to reveal a fourth corpse. This man had apparently tried to flee from the scene and was shot multiple times in the back. I closed the video at this point and vowed never to watch it again. The bloody carnage left me feeling ill. Effectively, I just viewed a snuff video, and watching it made me feel like an accessory to a vile crime.

I completed some research and linked the footage to a botched IRA operation in rural Tyrone County in the early 1990s, which resulted in the deaths of four IRA members at the hands of the SAS. The footage was originally filmed by the security forces as part of their investigation, but at some point, the video was leaked and copies found their way into loyalist circles, and eventually a digitized version ended up online. Obviously, this isn't the type of material I'm looking for in support of my thesis. Arguably, it has some merit from an academic point of view, but emotionally, I cannot deal

with such visceral and voyeuristic footage. I don't wish to offend my anonymous donor, and so I sent a polite reply email, thanking him for the video, but explaining what sort of material I'm looking for to further my research. In the meantime, I will return to my work. November 25th. I received a response from Captain Black. His tone was apologetic. He seemed genuinely sorry that the post-ambush footage wasn't helpful to my work.

He also mentioned a second video that he is keen to share with me. Apparently, the footage is extremely rare and relates to an obscure splinter group called the Irish Revolutionary Guard. The IRG was a small but extremely violent paramilitary group that was active in the late 80s and early 90s before subsequently disbanding. Several of its members were killed in an internal feud, while others were arrested and jailed. However, one of the IRG cells disappeared without a trace in 1990. They were all wanted men, and the theory was that they'd gone on the run, possibly fleeing

to America. There were conspiracy theories, mainly relating to covert action by British Special Forces, but there was no evidence and the men never re-emerged. Captain Black claimed to have a paramilitary-style training video from that era, one that's never seen the light of day before. Interestingly, he claimed the footage was filmed right here in Kilkenny. I found this unusual, but not impossible. Republican paramilitaries carried out their war in the north.

but they used the Irish Republic's territory to recruit and train members, store arms and explosives, and conduct fundraising operations, including armed robberies. I'll admit that I was intrigued. I knew I should be cautious given the gory footage I'd already received from this source, but the prospect of viewing and archiving a previously unseen video was just too tempting. Therefore, I replied to Captain Black and asked him to send me the file. I await his response. November 26th.

I got the email around midnight, having stayed up late in anticipation of receiving the material. I felt a burst of adrenaline when the message popped up in my inbox. My hand shaking as I clicked on my mouse to open the file. The video was much larger in size and duration than the previous file, with a runtime of over 20 minutes. I thought the previous film was grim, but it has nothing compared to this. The gore and violence were taken to a whole new level. I felt sick after watching it through to the end. Thankfully, this video is certainly a fake, albeit a scarily realistic one. Let me see if I can describe it. The film begins during daylight in a remote rule area. Three paramilitary

members can be seen marching through a rock-strewn field, all are wearing combat jackets and jeans, and have their faces covered by black balaclavas. They're also armed with assault rifles, which I recognize from my previous research. Two of the gunmen held AK-47s, the infamous Russian weapon used in dozens of conflicts across the globe. The third man carried an American M-16 rifle. The armed Trio marched toward the camera, projecting an image of strength and defiance. Next, they took up firing positions, laying along the grass and balancing their rifles against an overturned log, whilst shooting at an unseen target in the distance. After the target practice, one of the masked men, presumably the commander, spoke to the

camera in a broad Belfast accent, spouting a verbal diatribe against the Brits, speaking at length about the right of the Irish people to violently resist colonialism and threatening various members of the government and security forces who the IRG regarded as legitimate targets. It was all pretty standard stuff for the era. They're followed by a sudden break in the film, as the screen cut to black. I thought the video had finished, but noted there were still almost ten minutes left to play. The picture returned after a couple of seconds, except now they were filming at night, with the scene dimly illuminated by a light on the camera as the same trio of gunmen

patrolled through a wooded area underneath a full moon. There was something different about this scene, which I should have recognized immediately. The film itself looked genuine, grainy, and with the color slightly off, as one would expect from a home video recorded in the early 90s. This part of the fraud appeared seamless, at least to my unduly. trained eye. There was, however, a noticeable change in atmosphere. The paramilitaries seemed to be on edge. The three gunmen no longer appeared confident or full of bravado. Now they walked with nervous apprehension, taking care with every footstep and flinching at every small sound around them.

Even the cameraman appeared affected by the change in mood, as his hands were noticeably shaking as he filmed. The scene was reminiscent of a horror movie, which of course made perfect sense when I watched it to the end. As they marched, there was an audible snapping sound from somewhere in the background, a cracked branch or a small tree falling, perhaps. The on-edge paramilitaries reacted with fear to the sudden noise, jumping up and raising their weapons whilst they frantically searched the dark tree line. What the fuck was that? One man exclaimed. S-A-S?

Another replied fearfully, "'Calm the fuck down,' answered the third man. I recognised the voice, identifying him as the commander who had read the statement earlier in the video. "'The SAS don't operate down here in the south. It's probably just a deer. What if it's the guards?' asked one of his men.

He was referring to the Garda, the Republic of Ireland's police force. The commander answered in a cold tone. "'If it's the guards we evade. Unless they corner us and try to make arrests, if that happens, let the bastards have it. I felt a chill run through me when I heard those words, to hear how easily these violent men would consider murdering police officers. The next development was unexpected. A loud and piercing howl reverberated through my laptop speakers, making me jump.

The paramilitaries nearly lost the plot when they heard the howl, which was closely followed by another even deeper and more prolonged. Jesus Christ, I was no fucking dear. Calm yourself. The commander exclaimed, It's a farmer's hound or something. But he didn't sound so certain this time as I could hear the anxiety in his voice. The tension was almost unbearable at this point.

The patrol had halted and the gunmen all knelt down on one knee, aiming their rifles in the direction the howling sound had come from. The cameraman obviously kept on filming, but he was shaking almost uncontrollably now, as he struggled to focus on the scene before him. There followed a moment of tense silence, a calm before the storm, before all hell broke loose. There was a mighty crashing sound from behind the trees, surely caused by something huge charging through the undergrowth and a blood-curdling growl, so piercing it chilled my bones.

Screamed one of the paramilitaries, he didn't get a chance to finish his curse as a split Second later, something huge and vicious tore through the undergrowth, moving so fast it appeared to be a blur of muscle, fur, and teeth. The beast threw itself on top of its victim, rapidly slicing the helpless man's throat with its razor-sharp claws. The dying man let out his sickening death rattle as his blood was sprayed in all directions. Jesus! Screamed the commander, as he raised his rifle and prepared to open fire.

He managed to get off a single round without properly aiming. tearing high and wide, but the beast was too fast, lashing out and knocking the gun out of his hands before biting the man's right arm clean off, literally ripping it from the socket. The commander screamed in complete agony, clutching at his bloody stump as he fell. The beast rapidly leapt on top of him, viciously clawing at his chest until he stopped moving. The third gunman remained perfectly still throughout, apparently frozen in shock and fear. He came back to reality too late, dropping his rifle and attempting to flee. He didn't get far as the beast tore across the open ground on all fours, biting deeply

into the man's exposed throat. He was soon dead. Amazingly, the cameraman had continued to film this entire Gore Fest, perhaps believing the camera offered him some sort of protection from the violent events playing out before him. But now, with all the gunmen dead, he woke up to the danger and he woke up to the danger and started to run. He didn't drop his camera, and it continued to record, showing shaky footage of a frantic pursuit through a darkened forest. The cameraman's panicked breathing is clearly audible,

along with the bloodthirsty growl of the beast as it chased him through the woods, closing in for the kill. Predictably, the cameraman didn't get away. Suddenly, the beast was in front of him, blocking his path. The cornered man raised his camera in a panic, shining the light to illuminate his attacker. At this point, I saw the beast clearly for the first time. Basically, it was a werewolf, a humanoid covered in gray and now blood-splattered fur. Its body was muscular and powerful. It stood on two legs now. Its front legs, or arms, protruding with long, razor-sharp claws ready to slash. The head was that of a wolf, however, its snout filled with huge teeth and with fresh blood pouring from its mouth.

The eyes were unlike any animal I've ever seen, glowing a bright red like those of a demonic entity. Its glare was terrifying, awakening a terror inside me that I hadn't felt since I was a child. The wolfman stood there for several seconds, staring down the cameraman who appeared to be frozen to the spot with fear. The beast seemed to be taunting his victim, but it wasn't long before it pounced, taking off. on its powerful hind legs and knocking the man off his feet. The camera was knocked out of his hands, falling down to the forest floor. I heard a desperate scream and the terrible sound of ripping and tearing.

Mercifully, these awful sounds soon stopped. There followed a moment of relative calm, with the camera showing nothing but leaf-covered foliage and the trees beyond. I hoped this was the end of it, noticing how there was only thirty seconds left to play. on the video, but, of course, there was one last twist to play. Suddenly, the wolf's hideous face appeared on screen as it snarled into the camera, making me literally jump out of my chair. The horrifying beast remained on screen for more than ten seconds, snarling viciously,

with its long snout brushing against the camera lens, its jaw dripping with dark blood, and red eyes glaring with menacing intent. It seemed like the beast was. was looking straight at me. Its frightening gaze fixed upon me like I was to be its next victim. This was impossible, of course, but in that moment I did feel truly scared. But then, mercifully, the video cut to black. The video was extremely unsettling, but it was, of course, a fake. Wolves have not lived in the wilds of Ireland since the late 18th century, and I know for a fact there is no creature like this living anywhere in the world. I'll confess that the film was very

realistic and well made. I suspect this clip may be some sort of viral marketing scheme for a new horror movie or series. I feel stupid to have been taken in by such an obvious hoax. I'm also very angry with my contact, the mysterious Captain Black, who presumably sent me this as a sick Joke. I stayed up late to type Captain Black a strongly worded email, stating in no uncertain terms how unimpressed I was and how I didn't appreciate my time being wasted in such a childish manner. I sent the email, but soon received a bounce-back message stating that the email address

no longer existed. Finding this odd, I returned to the chat form where I'd first made contact with this individual, to discover all posts made by Captain Black had been removed, and his user account deleted. I was concerned by this point, fearing I had fallen victim to an online scam, and that the files I received in open may contain viruses. Therefore, I quickly deleted both video files and ran a scan using my antivirus software. Thankfully, the scan brought up nothing. Nevertheless, I'll need to report the breach to the university's IT department, which, I'll have to report the breach to the university's IT department, which will be embarrassing.

I still can't believe I was taken in by such an obvious trick. Still, I'll need to put this incident behind me and get back to my work, starting tomorrow. November 28th. I didn't sleep a wink last night. It's an odd thing, but I couldn't get that damned video out of my mind. I'm not usually the squeamish type, but this short film really got under my skin. It was so damn realistic. I can't forget about that bloody wolf.

Every time I close my eyes I see its face, its snout dripping with blood, and its predatory eyes, hungry for death. It hadn't occurred to me before, but I am very isolated out here. My rented cottage is five miles from the nearest village, and the next farm is at least a mile and a half away as the crow flies. When night falls, the darkness is all encompassing. From my front window I can see the darkened tree line of a forest, a quarter mile to the north, and it reminds me of the hideous events in that damn film.

The woods at night, the stuff of primal fears, imprinted into our DNA. It hadn't bothered me previously, but now I can't stop my imagination from running away with me. I kept the light on in my bedroom last night, something I haven't done since I was a kid. I am ashamed to admit that I hid under my covers, shaking at every slight noise and creak and experiencing a great relief when I saw the first light of dawn. I got very little work done today as I found it impossible to focus. What the hell is wrong with me? Perhaps I've burnt myself out. I have been working very hard recently, and I need to rest.

A good night's sleep is essential. But I'm dreading nightfall. To think of that darkened tree line of who or what could be lurking in the shadows. Damn it. I need to get a grip. I'm a grown man, well-educated and rational-minded. No more of these childish superstitions. November 28th.

It's three in the morning. I was asleep, but got abruptly awoken. I can hear howling. Fucking howling. It's somewhere in the distance, but not too far away. Is someone screwing with me? Captain Black, or whoever the hell he is, playing a sick practical joke? A moment ago, I crept to the bedroom window and peeked through the curtains.

The scene outside is partially illuminated by the moon, but nevertheless I can see little. But then I heard the howl again, louder this time. Shit, what is happening? Just to reiterate, there are no wild wolves left in Ireland. The last one was hunted down in the 1780s, for God's sake. The most dangerous predators we have are foxes, and it sure as hell isn't a fox making that noise. It could be a dog, I guess.

But I hear it again. Even louder this time. This is ridiculous. Obviously someone is playing an elaborate prank on me, bored locals with nothing better to do with their time. But I won't rise to the bait. I've decided to put my earplugs in, ignore the god-awful din, and try to get some sleep. Hopefully the pranksters will get the message and leave me alone.

Fingers crossed everything will get back to normal tomorrow. I woke after dawn with my earplugs still in, having at least managed to get a few hours sleep. I did experience disturbing and vivid nightmares, however, images of that dreadful film, of men being torn limb from limb. Nevertheless, I felt pleased with myself, thinking I had gotten the better of the pranksters. That is, until I came downstairs and opened the front door. There was a terrible smell, you see, something similar to rotting meat.

I caught a whiff of it when I came downstairs and realized the stench was coming from outside. What I discovered on the other side of the door was a revolting sight. A pile of raw flesh, intestines, assorted internal organs, and God knows what else. These were the innards of at least one animal, and probably more than one. I wretched at the sight, and the awful stench filled up my nostrils. Acidic bile forced its way up my throat. I was actually sick all over the doorstep. When I regained my senses, I soon determined that the bloody pile of organs had been purposefully

placed right outside my door. Beyond the gross display lay a series of bloody paw prints, big ones, heading back towards the woods to the north. This has gone too far. I tried to ignore the miscreants in hopes that they would get bored and move on, but this latest stunt crossed the line, leaving me with no choice but to notify the authorities. Not that it's done me much good. I did phone the police this morning, but they were very unhelpful, and I got the distinct impression

they didn't believe me, particularly when I described the howling noises emanating from the forest and the gory present left on my doorstep. They told me that it was likely a fox. I scoffed at the suggestion and insisted they send an officer to investigate. The dispatcher was evasive, however, stating that the nearest station was 45 minutes away from my location, and the forest is stretched thin with enforcing COVID restrictions. It was left that they would send someone out when available. I waited hours but eventually could not bear the stench in sight any longer, and I used

a spade from the garden shed to scoop up the guts before burying the remains in the back garden. I felt better when this was done. Perhaps I was overreacting. Still, as the day goes on, I feel increasingly anxious about the prospect of spending another night here. I'm still convinced this is a hoax, but... But what I cannot understand is the connection between the video I received and whatever is occurring outside my rented cottage after dark.

Surely it can't all be a coincidence, can it? There was little chance of me getting any serious work done today, and so, against my better judgment, I began to search the topic of Irish werewolves. What I discovered was disconcerting. My web search brought me to a site recording the history of Osiry, a modern. evil Gaelic kingdom, which existed from the first century A.D., right up until the Norman invasion of Ireland during the 12th century. The territory of this ancient kingdom included Kilkenny County and parts of Laos County.

Basically, this meant my little holiday cottage was right in the middle of what had once been Osiry. Being a history student, I already had some knowledge of the ancient Gaelic kingdoms, even though this wasn't my area of specialism. What I didn't know about, however, was the legend of the werewolf's vossary. As I've previously stated, wolves are long since extinct in Ireland, but the island was once plagued by roving packs, and they were a serious enough threat that the Irish wolfhound was bred to hunt them.

Wolf attacks on isolated farms and livestock continued at least up until the 1700s. To the mix were the Fianna warriors, ferocious mercenaries who roamed the countryside whilst wearing wolfskins and sporting Lupin hairstyles. The legends of this era likely originated from these tales and became confused over the centuries. Nevertheless, there were numerous accounts of the Osiry werewolves throughout the Middle Ages in Irish, English, and Norse works. One story in particular captured my attention, however, sending a cold chill down my spine when I read it.

The story was allegedly told by a priest who had been traveling from Ulster in the north to Waterford on Ireland's southern coast sometime during the ninth century. One night he was traveling alone through a darkened forest within the borders of Osir and encountered a hideous creature, half man and half wolf. The monster stood on two legs, blocking his path through the wood. To the priest's surprise, the creature spoke to him in the Gaelic tongue, describing how he'd once been a man but had committed heinous crimes against the innocent. As a punishment, he was cursed by a warlock chieftain and magically transformed into his current

state, part man, part beast. What's more, the wretched creature's soul was trapped for all eternity between this world and the next, with the warlock's curse condemning him to return to these lands in a physical form once every generation, so he could hunt during the cycle of the moon. Having told his story, the beast is said to have advanced upon the priest with its claws on sheath, determined to make him his latest victim. However, the holy man remained steadfast, standing his ground and raising his wooden crucifix whilst reciting the Lord's prayer, thus forcing the unholy creature to retreat.

As I dug deeper, I discovered websites run by so-called cryptozoologists and demonologists. These people claim to have traced the history of this legendary beast, pointing to numerous stories recorded over the course of centuries, tales of unidentified creatures roaming the lands, slaughtered livestock, and unexplained disappearances of both children and adults. What apparently links these incidents is that they all occurred at 30-year intervals, or once per generation. And the most recent incident that these online sleuths had linked to the legend was the mysterious disappearance of the Republican paramilitaries in this area in late 1990, almost exactly thirty

years to this day. I felt a sickness rising from the pit of my stomach when I finished reading the last line. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if there could be some truth to this legend, given all I'd heard and seen over the past 36 hours. Had my watchings of that lost video unleashed an ancient curse, making me the target of the supernatural beast? For a while, I actually feared this was the case, and I did consider packing up my car and getting the hell out of there.

Luckily, I've had a few hours now to think things over and regain my senses. I'm an academic, a man of logic and scientific reasoning. It's ridiculous for me to even consider such superstitious nonsense. Yes, there have been incidents, and on the surface they do appear to be linked to this local legend, but this means nothing. Clearly the pranksters are aware of the werewolf legend and have concocted this elaborate hoax to scare me. Granted, it's a lot of work to go through, but I guess there's little else to keep the locals

occupied during the times of lockdown. In any event, I still have a week's lease left on this cottage, and I have a week's lease left on this cottage, have no intention of being driven out on account of such childish antics. I'm going to put an end to this nonsense, one way or another. November 29th. It's 3 a.m., and they've started up again. The howling is louder even than last night. A few minutes ago, I looked out my bedroom window, noting the clear night sky and bright

moonlight. I spotted a figure moving amongst the trees, a dark shadow, but it was definitely somebody. I have considered calling the police, but they were less than helpful last time. Besides, by the time they get here, the pranksters will likely be long gone. I'm going out to confront them. I'll take the shovel to defend myself with, and will use the torch function on my phone. With any luck, I'll catch one of the bastards red-handed. God in heaven!

It's real! The beast! It's real! I was marching back towards the tree line and saw it coming at me, running on all fours. It all happened so fast. It jumped me, slashing with its claws. Somehow, I managed to strike it with the shovel, and I hit the creature, buying myself some time. I don't know how, but I made it back to the cottage, slamming and locking the front door behind me.

I can't believe this is happening. Am I dreaming? Jesus, I'm bleeding. The fucker scratched my chest from nipple to nipple. What will I do? Who the hell can I call? Fuck, I dropped my phone during the fight. I'm cut off.

totally on my own. Why didn't I take this seriously? I'm a damn fool. I can hear it roaming outside. You can see its dark figure through the windows. That low growl it makes as it searches for a way in. What the hell is it doing now? Jesus, it's attacking my car,

slashing the tires and tearing up the engine. This thing is intelligent. It knows the car will be my last chance of escape. Now I'm trapped. I have a kitchen knife to defend myself. with. That's all. It's going to get in. I can hear it trying the back door. Did I lock it? If anyone finds this recording, please tell me. Oh my God. No, please. The guarder have refused to officially release this recording, but it was leaked by an anonymous

civil servant who wishes to alert the public, along with details on what the investigating officers discovered at the scene. Mr. O'Shea's vehicle had been severely damaged as he described on the recording. There was evidence of a forced entry at the rear entrance of the cottage and a struggle in the kitchen. There were also dried bloodstains found on the kitchen floor, but no body and no signs of Mr. O'Shea. He is still officially listed as missing. Experts brought in say the scene is consistent with an animal attack, but of course there are no predators native to Ireland that can take down a fully grown adult man. The laptop was found undamaged, and this audio recording recovered.

No trace was found of the video Mr. O'Shea described watching, and even when specialist software was used, the police were unable to recover the deleted files. It seems the Garda have no clue what happened to Mr. O'Shea, and they have no leads. So why have we shared the story on this platform? This is a warning. Anonymous posters on various forums are still trying to push the lost paramilitary tape on unsuspecting persons. If you are contacted by Captain Jack or any other user offering to send you such a video, do not provide any of your contact details.

And if you do receive this video unsolicited, do not open it. We don't know for sure what the connection is between this film and whatever ancient curse it conjures, but Mr. O'Shea didn't take the threat seriously and it cost him his life. Do not make the same mistake.