The Magnus Archives - The Magnus Protocol 47 - Repetitive Strain

Episode Date: August 14, 2025

CAT1RC4873-06052024-14062024distortion (cyclic) -/- retributionIncident Elements:·  harsh language·  gaslighting·  domestic abuse·  time loss·  threats of violence/death·  tattoos·  SFX: children screaming(laughing/crying)Transcripts available at https://rustyquill.com/transcripts/the-magnus-protocol/You can find a complete list of our Kickstarter backers https://rustyquill.com/the-magnus-protocol-supporter-wall/Created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall  Directed by Alexander J NewallWritten by Alexander J NewallScript Edited with additional material by Jonathan SimsExecutive Producers April Sumner, Alexander J Newall, Jonathan Sims, Dani McDonough, Linn Ci, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d’Raven, and Megan Nice Produced by April SumnerFeaturing (in order of appearance) Lowri Ann Davies as Celia RipleyAnusia Battersby as Gwen BouchardVera Chok as Ink5oulBillie Hindle as Alice DyerRobert Vernon as Heinrich UnheilmichDialogue Editor – Nico VetteseSound Designer – Meg McKellarMastering Editor - Catherine RinellaMusic by Sam Jones (orchestral mix by Jake Jackson) Art by April Sumner  SFX from Tessa Vroom, Soundly and Freesound: planetcomedy, BaDoink, syntheffects, NecoKen1, LeeNath, vibritherabjit123, blaukreuz, CSXsonic, trcrocker68, missozzy, esmayorga, Ambient-X, Hammer_Hörspielschmiede, rsellick, felixblume, sonicquinn, Eneasz, FunWithSound, kyles, antoineopengwell as previously credited artistsCheck out our merchandise available at https://www.redbubble.com/people/RustyQuill/shop and https://www.teepublic.com/stores/rusty-quillSupport Rusty Quill by purchasing from our Affiliates;DriveThruRPG – DriveThruRPG.comJoin our community:WEBSITE: rustyquill.comFACEBOOK: facebook.com/therustyquillX: @therustyquillEMAIL: [e-mail] The Magnus Protocol is a derivative product of the Magnus Archives, created by Rusty Quill Ltd. and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share alike 4.0 International Licence.  Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

ACAS powers the world's best podcasts. Here's the show that we recommend. I'm Jesse Kirkshank, and on my podcast, Phone a Friend. I break down the biggest stories in pop culture, but when I have questions, I get to phone a friend. I phone my old friend, Dan Levy. You will not die hosting the Hills after show. I get thirsty for the hot wiggle.

I didn't even know a thirsty man until there was all these headlines. And I get schooled by a tween. Facebook is like a no, that's what my grandma's on. Thank God, phone a friend with Jesse Crookshank, is not available on Facebook. It's out now wherever you get your podcasts. ACAST helps creators launch, grow, and monetize their podcasts everywhere. acast.com. Rusty Quill presents

The Magnus Protocol Episode 47, Repetitive Strain ...their... ...theirdered. ...their... ...with... ...and... ...and...

...the... ...and... Phr. Oh! Ah! Phr! M. ...

... Oh! ... ... ... ... ... ...

... ... ... ... ... Oh. Please remember to knock before coming into my office, Cecilia. You were the one who called me in here. Nevertheless.

Nevertheless, what, Gwen? Anyway, I've called you in here because this is the second time this week you've turned up late. Look, can we just not? Not tonight, please. Now I know we're all feeling the strain at the moment, but that just means it's even more important that we do our jobs. And what exactly is your job, Gwen? Because while I'm out there sorting everyone's caseloads on my own, you just seem to be sat in here twiddling your thumbs, watching everything go to hell. I'm not twiddling my thumbs.

No, sometimes you get up and pace aimlessly. I can see you from here. You haven't even checked your messages yet. Is everything okay at home, Celia? We are done here. I decide when we're done. Just try not to let it happen again. Hey, this isle.

Hey, this is Inksol. I'm after Lena Kelly. Got your card from your assistant, girl's before she plagued it. Uh, I've been thinking and yeah, maybe I overreacted. I'm in a better place now, so I thought, why not? That's here the offer. So yeah, come me back. If you're still interested, bring the paperwork round or, or not, whatever.

What? Hi, is that uh, Grace? Who's asking? This is Gwendolyn Bouchard. Never heard of you. You chased me out of your warehouse? You killed a man with his own tattoos in front of me. Does it ring a bell?

I'm with the OIAR. Oh, the trash poker princess. How you doing? You changed your mind about the ink. What? No. I'm... I'm calling about the contract I offered you.

You're going to have to speak up. I'm working. One sec. Sorry. Where were we? The contract I... Oh, right, yeah.

So, last time I was in a real I alone bear the curse kind of era but turns out there's loads of us out here and a bunch of them do gigs for you guys and they totally talk me around so yeah, just bring the paperwork over and I'll get signed and we can get started. I'm afraid I can't do that.

You are. We don't have a... contract for you. Is this about the whole warehouse thing? You don't need to get old bit out shape. I told you. I was in a bad place. I'm doing much better now.

The contract is closed. Say again. The woman who wanted to contract you has been fired. The OIAR is under new management and that means no more work for unstable externals. No more free victims and specials. favours. I'm in charge now, and we're going to be doing things properly. My way. Who the fuck are you calling unstable? You don't need to get all bent out of shape about it. Right. And what do I tell the others? Tell them... Tell them the buffet is closed.

Oh, well, tell them. You have no idea. You are so completely fucking... HMP! HMP, Downview, Surrey, Internal Records. Notice to prisoner. Restriction of communications. Prisoner details. Surname. Lively. Forename. Sarah. Date of birth, 17, 06, 1985. Prison, HMP, Downview. Establishment, same. Cell location. Wing C. Cell, 17. Restricted person details. Surname, checks. Four name, Eleanor Sophie.

Restriction details. Time period 0605.2024. Contact. Written letter. Grounds for restriction. Victim harassment. Communication reads. Sarah Lively. You have been restricted from contacting the above-mentioned person on the following grounds. Victim harassment. The decision to restrict you from contacting this individual has not been taken lightly as our establishment is committed to maintaining ties with family and friends. Restriction of communications is not part of any form of punishment, but we are committed to make our establishment a safe and secure environment for prisoners,

visitors and staff, and to safeguard the public when necessary. The restriction will be reviewed on 01-09-2024. You may appeal against this decision by using the formal complaints procedure, available on your residential unit for the attention of the head of security and operations. A digitized copy of this message and the attached letter will be held in your permanent record. Regards. Adder M.K. HMP Downview. Security Manager. Attachment reads. Hi, L. I don't know why I'm writing this. There's no way they'll let it get through security, and even if they do, there's no way you would open it. Why would you? But I need to write this. I need something, somewhere, that says what actually happened, even if no one ever

believes it. So if, by some miracle, you're reading this, then I need you to know. I'm not sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry that you had to go through all this awfulness. I'm sorry that I broke your family, but I'm not sorry for what I did. Your brother deserved what happened, and I think you know that, even if you can't believe it right now. I'd been going to therapy for six months when I decided to get a tattoo. I needed an anchor, something concrete I could look at, something he couldn't pretend didn't happen because it would be right there reminding me of myself. At least, that was the idea. I don't care what Dr. Sutcliffe said in court, though.

It wasn't an impulse decision. Sutcliffe had discussed it with me weeks beforehand and had even made me fill in a questionnaire about it. There's no way I could even have gotten a walking session with someone like Inksole. It doesn't work like that. They could have told you that themselves if they had testified. We had this whole email chain over weeks because I wanted this two shall pass, and she kept saying she needed creative freedom. That is, until I agreed to pay double.

I'd have copies of all of this and more if David hadn't deleted my accounts. Not that it wouldn't make a difference. I went to their pop-up studio and got the work done, and it looked good. Great even, though it hurt far worse than my first tattoo. They said I shouldn't cover it, but obviously I had to hide it. I got home all right and even managed to keep it secret at first, but that evening he grabbed my forearm. It hurt like hell, and I cried out.

Then, well, it went about as well as you would expect. I don't know why that was the night I left him. Something about smearing my tattoo, the one thing that was meant to be outside his power? It hurt. And more than just my arm. The fine line work was already coming apart, and I remember thinking I couldn't imagine a more bitter reminder of why I needed to leave. I already had a go bag stashed in my wardrobe and a jar of cash behind the loo. It was Dr. Sutcliffe who suggested that.

I was ready to feel a pull to stay, a guilt or something, but the only thing I thought as I tipped out at the front door was, thank God we never had kids. I got in the cab and just told him to start driving. He wanted to know where, but I didn't know. I could barely speak. All I could say was away, please. And then it was quiet, blissfully, almost painfully quiet.

Just the hum of the engine. the rain drumming on the windows and the yellow motorway lamplights sweeping past in time with my heartbeat again and again and when i woke up in bed with him the next morning i honestly thought i was dead i had died in the car and now i was in hell it was the only possible explanation that made sense to me i began to scream but managed to choke it back instead i slipped out of bed and checked the wardrobe to find my bag exactly where it always was. My cash jar was the same. It was only when I came back in from the bathroom that David opened his eyes. Then he rolled over, and that was that. I went downstairs and made him breakfast. After he'd left, I spent the morning cleaning and tidying as always,

so by the time my therapy session came round, I'd already had hours to rationalise what happened as a dream. Vivid, cruel and traumatic dream, but a dream nonetheless. So as normal, I checked David wasn't due back, locked myself in the bathroom and dialed into the session. It began the same as any other, but when I told Sutcliffe that I'd gone for the tattoo session, he suddenly interrupted me to criticise such impulsive behaviour. I laughed, but he was dead serious. And when I mentioned the questionnaire he'd had me do, he'd just looked at me sceptically and muttered in his quiet way, that's not how I remember it. That chilled me. I don't know how long I sat there in the bathroom after that session, just thinking or thinking

about thinking or not thinking at all. Finally, I looked down to my arm, looking for some reassurance, something permanent. Thankfully, it was still there and still hurting with the design still smeared by David the day before. The word shall was ruined, but it was still just about legible. This two shall pass. I resolved myself to leave that night. I didn't know what was going on with Sutcliffe, but it didn't matter.

I'd always swore I would leave if he left a mark, and this, Had to count. The nightmare was just a premonition. So I went through the rest of the day as expected. Dinner was ready for when he came in, and I nodded in all the right places as he complained about his day. In bed, I waited till he started snoring, then counted to 500 so that I knew he was really gone. Then I grabbed the go bag and the cash, and slipped out again. This time I didn't take a taxi. I just started walking. I didn't keep track of the time, but I must have been walking. hours. My legs ached and my feet had blistered, but I didn't care. Every step I could feel myself getting away, feel it all fading away beneath my boots. I was thinking this as I made it

to some farmland not far from the M3 and leant against a fence, watching the little parcel of horizon I could see as it crept towards dawn. It was going to be a beautiful sunrise. Then I woke up in bed. There was no falling asleep, no transition, just one moment I was stud. waiting for a new day, and the next I was waking up to him again. He opened his eyes and looked deep into mine, then finally muttered, what, before rolling over? I bit my lips so hard, it bled, then gently slipped out of bed and made breakfast. David left for work early, then I carried on with the chores. Eventually I went up to change the sheets, and that was when I saw the stain.

A stain from a blister that had burst on my foot. A walking blister. Seeing that stain was like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I suddenly began panting and stared down at my tattoo, hunting for that reassurance, but I could barely see the words. In fact, as I stared at it, the whole thing seemed to twist into dirty, irregular, and ugly lines that now read, nothing shall pass. I did scream then.

Long and deep and loud. I screamed and screamed with rage and anger and bane. I screamed till I was a horse, and it felt like I was ripping my own throat out. Then I stopped screaming, change the sheets, and took the dirties to the washing machine. Dinner was ready for when he came in. I nodded in all the right places as he complained about his day, and then after he went upstairs and fell asleep, I slipped in after him, and... I counted to 500 again after he stopped snoring, even though there was no way he was waking up,

not after losing that much blood. I'll be honest Elle It felt so good So unbelievably freeing to finally cut him loose Knowing that there would be no consequences No punishment, no guilt Just another reset And then everything would be like it was

I actually laughed out loud When I realised I could feel this way Every single day No one would ever know I decided to go for a walk afterwards Stretch my legs See if I could catch that beautiful dawn again Before the reset

The police picked me up about 20 hours after you found him and called it in. I was still waiting for the reset that never came. I'm sure you think I'm crazy. My own therapist said as much to a jury and all the evidence that the trial showed the same, but even so, I just need you to know that killing your brother wasn't my first choice. That said, I don't regret it, even though it's stuck and there's no going back this time. Trust me, it's better this way. I'm just sorry I hurt you.

when I freed myself. Look after yourself, Elle. With all my love, Sarah. Alice? Hey, Celia. Can you hear me? I'm in the airport, and the signal's crap. No, yeah, I hear you. Did you get a flight in the end? Yeah, it was a massive ballache, but... long story, don't worry about him. I'm just glad to hear you're all good. Sorry, it didn't pan out. Wasn't a complete bust. And hey, Elizabeth, I made a terrifying new friend

Listen, while I finally have you Have you made any progress with Sam at your end I haven't been getting any updates Oh, well, I mean Gwen's been pushing me pretty hard while you've been gone So, push her back Of a cliff, preferably I just mean I've not had much time

I'm doing four people's caseloads And... So what, you haven't got anything? I didn't say that Fine, whatever I'll be there tomorrow I bring whatever you've got and you can catch me up there. Sure.

Right, I've got to go. Talk later. Don't leave any bags on the tenter. Alice good. Yeah, it's fine. I'm fine. Alice good. You are certain. It's nothing.

She's not sleeping. The child is perhaps. keeping her up. Little ones are always the loudest. What? Oh, do not worry, Leipchen. You did not let it slip. You were very careful. But I can smell these things, vice do. I won't let you hurt them. You could not stop me. But this does not matter. I do not want to harm them. You know this.

I have a gift for the boy. You will take it to him. Listen, I appreciate all your help. I do, but I'm not going to give my friend's kid a gift from... Well... You forget yourself. And worse, you forget me. You can take this gift, or I can take your life.

It is your choice. Why? Because I am the toy maker. I am Heinrich unheinich. I am polite, yes, but I am not kind. Now choose. Ah, fuck, do it then. Yeah.

Do it. I do like you very much, Alice. What? is for you. The toy is already in your bag. I look forward to your efforts to be rid of it. I... No. No, I chose to... I chose to... I chose to... Uttraiser, Alice. This is bad. The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative

Commons attribution non-commercial share alike 4.0 international license. The series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander Jane Ewell, directed by Alexander Jane Ewell. This episode was written by Alexander J. Newell and edited with additional materials by Jonathan Sims. With vocal edits by Nico Vitesse, soundscaping by Meg McKella, and mastering by Catherine Rinella, with music by Sam Jones.

It featured, Billy Hindle as Alice Dyer, Anousia Battersby as Gwen Bouchard. Lowry Ann Davis is Celia Ripley, with additional voices from Alexander Jane Yule. The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner, with executive producers Alexander Jane Yule, Danny McDonough, Lynn Cee, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton, an associate producer Jordan L. Hawke, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetia Stor Raven, and Megan Nice. To subscribe.

view associated materials or join our Patreon, visit rusty quill.com. Rate and review us online, tweet us at the rusty quill. Visit us on Facebook or email us at mail at rusty quill.com. Thanks for listening. A-Cast powers the world's best podcasts. Here's the show that we recommend. I'm Jesse Kirkshank, and on my podcast, Phone a Friend. I break down the biggest stories in pop culture,

but when I have questions, I get to phone a friend. I phone my old friend, Dan Levy. You will not die hosting the Hills after show. I get thirsty for the hot wiggle. I didn't even know a thirsty man until there was all these headlines. And I get schooled by a tween. Facebook is like a know-that. That's what my grandma's on.

Thank God. Phone a Friend with Jesse Crookshank is not available on Facebook. It's out now, wherever you get your podcast. ACAST helps creators launch, grow, and monetize their podcast. Everywhere. acast.com.