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Halloween Archaeohorror Stories Feat. Liz Pearson and Ellery Thomas - Modern Myth
634 Plays4 years ago
Spooky Scary archaeologists!
This podcast is an anthology of creative stories, all within the theme of Halloween and a little bit of heritage.
Content Warning: Body Horror, Depressive thoughts, violence.
The first story is "Mud", written and narrated by Tristan Boyle, it is the story of a field archaeologist who is confronting a sickening realisation.
The next piece is a song called Nan Tuck, by Chalk Horse Music. Liz (of Chalk Horse Music) describes a witch legend in the County of Sussex where I live in the UK. It involves a woman that lived in the 16th century, Nan Tuck, which became the inspiration for this song.
The final story, Eternal Rest, written by Tristan and read by Ellery Thomas tells of a museum conservator who's accidentally damage turns into horror.
Thanks to Liz and Ellery for their contributions, you can find their work at the following links:
Liz - Chalk Horse Music - https://www.chalkhorsemusic.com/ - @chalkhorsemusic
Ellery - https://www.ellery.xyz/ - @elleryells
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Transcript
Exploring the Essence of Horror Stories
00:00:03
Speaker
Oh, hello! I didn't see you there. This? Yes, I'm just reading my favourite Halloween stories.
00:00:15
Speaker
It's that special time of year where we try and frighten ourselves. I'm not frightened by these, but I always wonder, what do horror stories really represent? If not, the deepest, darkest look at our anxieties, our worries, and our fears. These can manifest in so many different ways. It's difficult to
00:00:46
Speaker
make them make sense in one way or another. To analyze a horror story is to maybe take away small parts of the magic. But in other ways, analyzing horror stories and making them make sense gives us a better insight into who wrote them and why.
Introduction to 'Mud' and 'Eternal Rest'
00:01:08
Speaker
These two stories and the song in between are a collection of horror stories that have a bit of an archaeology theme. The first story is called Mud, written and narrated by me. The last story is called Eternal Rest. It's written by me and read by friend of the show, Eldery Thomas.
00:01:39
Speaker
And finally with the story of Nantuck, a witch legend from the county of Sussex, the UK. Brought to you by Liz Pearson of Chalk Horse Music. So sit back, relax and enjoy these stories, what they represent and... Happy Halloween!
Joe's Archaeological Journey and Isolation
00:02:31
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Mud written and narrated by Tristan Boyle. The soil sifted and moved undergloved hands and worn trowels.
00:02:46
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Joe had a particularly tiny trowel, much like an extremely short pencil, sharpened to a thimble size. He couldn't use it for this test-pit. It would take so long, he would end up as old as the brock he was attempting to unearth.
00:03:05
Speaker
The rows of stones that had once poked out of Grassy Knoll now ran a ring around Joe as he kneeled in the middle, trying his best to unearth this monument. He was alone today. His boss had decided that Despe's assessment was a priority, much to Joe's annoyance. It would just end up as extra days digging for Joe.
00:03:29
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His knuckles banged hard against the stones, but he barely flinched. Such pain had become an occupational norm. Bloody knuckles, bloody knees, the sign of a true digger.
00:03:48
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The earth had slowly changed colour as he dug downward, from a dark, organic, rich topsoil to a terracotta clay-silt mixture. It stained any bare skin that it came in contact with. This was Jo's element. Humic soils, organic soils, glacial till.
00:04:15
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He was the expert when it came to the ground beneath one's feet. He would gently grab a handful of soil and turn it over in his hands. He would rub the fine particles between his fingers, feeling out the components.
00:04:36
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If he was alone, he would even taste the soil just to see if he could tell how much sand was in it. A common practice amongst archaeologists. Many people thought soil was all the same, but Joe knew better. He knew that different soils could tell you a lot about the site, whether the soil was waterlogged or well drained. But why did that even matter?
00:05:09
Speaker
The rain began as a fine mist above Joe. The sun had given its unenthusiastic glow this morning and now hid itself behind grey clouds. But a little bit of rain wouldn't deter Joe. Archaeologists are made of tougher stuff. Nothing short of torrential rain would end in excavation.
00:05:34
Speaker
The water collected in pools in the various troughs of the undulating monument. The exposed rocks glimmered as if polished by the rain. As Joe kneeled, he felt the water pulling around him and putting pressure on his legs through his waterproof trousers. He ignored it. It would never deter him from the job at hand.
00:06:03
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The metal end of the trial grew a mud patina, becoming heavier. It seemed to attract more soil, much like Joe himself. In many ways he was a human trial, not interested in academic work or paperwork, just the daily movement of Earth.
00:06:26
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The trial won't tell you anything about the past, but it will dig up that past. It's up to you to figure out the blanks. And that's precisely what makes archaeology both fascinating and horrifying. The mud clung to Joe's hands.
00:06:50
Speaker
Six weeks prior, the company had highlighted a small project in needing of finishing before the deadline was reached. Straws were drawn in the office, as per the boss's usual delegation method. By luck and secret wishing, Joe got to do more digging and less desk-based assessment.
00:07:10
Speaker
dry, boring information collection was a staple of commercial projects, but it suited only those who fancied themselves managers and directors. Having some respite from the pencil pushers was one of the great benefits of digging. Some didn't like getting their hands messy, or at least that was how Joe usually thought of it.
00:07:35
Speaker
But lately, he'd had doubts as to whether it was his own intention that would land him out of office jobs. In fact, now that he considered it, he had for the last few months been shipped off to sites. Often remote. Even if closer sites were on the schedule,
00:08:06
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He dismissed his paranoia as flimsy imagination and set his train of thought firmly on the ground beneath.
The Overwhelming Mud Metaphor
00:08:15
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Unfortunately for Joe, that ground slowly subsided under his weight with the ever-growing water content of the soil. His knees dropped beneath the waterline and his movements had become more sluggish.
00:08:29
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The moist fog seeped through the cushioned cuffs of his hands. His wrists began to rub and cause discomfort. Despite this physical pain, it was the discomfort with his recent thoughts that really pained Joe. That his co-workers were pushing him away. Of course, he loved his own peace and quiet, but not at his own expense.
00:08:58
Speaker
Joe's heart sank. Perhaps it was his cool demeanor that got on other people's nerves. Or it was his insistence of walking socks and sandals through the office. Or maybe no one wanted to spend time with a depressed sob who can't stop complaining about how difficult life is.
00:09:29
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His colleague John was always ready to listen. But John's eyes told the story of a man constantly disappointed to hear the same old problems from the same old person. Or maybe Sarah kept a grudge. After all, Joe had stood her up at a restaurant. Just because he wasn't feeling like, like he could go outside that day.
00:10:01
Speaker
The mud clung thicker than ever to Joe's body. It began to creep further up his clothes. He would rather it consumed him now. That it would slowly work its way into his throat and choke him because he felt sick with himself. Disgusted he hadn't seen it sooner. That he was the problem
00:10:32
Speaker
He was just like the dirt the archaeologists dug up. Interesting, maybe, but ultimately just covering and concealing pieces of the past. Dirt. Dirt needed moved. It could speak, but people would rather not listen. Joe picked up the slimy, sloppy mud and smeared it on his face. It became him.
00:11:04
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If only he could jump into the mud and lose himself. He would dive to the deepest point and rest away from the world there. The rain had stopped and so did Joe. He packed up his tools, making sure his mini-trial was definitely included.
00:11:29
Speaker
The dirt had built up a thick layer. From the outside, Joe must have resembled a mud monster. He trundled back to his jeep, every movement made slower by the mud. Joe threw his rucksack into the corner of the hotel room and stepped swiftly to the shower. He peeled off the outer layers and caught his eye in the mirror.
00:11:56
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Underneath it all, he was still covered in so much mud. The spray from the hot shower quickly fogged the glass and transformed the small bathroom into a sauna. The hot spray from the shower head cut through the many layers of mud. It felt like a gentle massage to Joe.
00:12:27
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He felt he could dissolve in this moment. The skin on his arm was becoming numb. The dull thought of the water had sign been no feeling. Joe kept his eyes closed and focused on the thoughts he'd earlier entertained. He was well aware that these thoughts could flare up.
00:12:57
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but he felt he just couldn't use excuses. Not again. But this moment he felt he couldn't, he couldn't use his depression as an excuse. No, this time it was on him. This time it was his fault. He had pushed everyone away.
00:13:23
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It was Joe who had driven people to spies and pity him simultaneously. He was just a mess. Joe felt pressure on his right shoulder and slowly turned his head. His arm didn't react to his thoughts. He tried thinking about closing his fingers. But to no avail,
00:13:52
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His arm was solid and, despite standing in the shower, it was still covered in mud. Joe felt a slight panic. He shook his body. His torso was still responding to his ever more frantic thoughts, frantic thoughts. The arm gushed forth mud as the water hit it.
00:14:19
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and Joe had chilling thoughts. His arm, his arm was made of mud. And that's when a lightness crept across the right side of his body and his arm began to detach at the shoulder.
00:14:40
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The sticky mud seemed to attempt to keep arm and body together, but it was only red and white sinews that kept the arm hanging off the body like a broken toy. Joe wanted to scream or shout, but his throat was full of the thick mud. He choked, and his vision was blurring. He swayed as he tried to get out of the bathtub.
00:15:08
Speaker
But as he did so, he felt the ground give way. His legs had snapped off and now he lay facing with the water splashing in his face. Like a real archaeologist, however, in this moment of terror, he actually considered how his grave would be interpreted. Would they think homicide or more likely suicide?
00:15:38
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As he felt his face slowly dissolve and the world turned darker, Cho realized he was being washed away. Mud replaced muscles. Dirt replaced bones. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.
00:16:04
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His throat was now full of muck, and he had no control. Joe could feel his consciousness slip away. I am dirt, he thought. Nantuck, written and presented by Liz Pearson.
00:16:38
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My name is Liz and I'm a singer with Chalk Horse Music and I'm going to tell you a story about Nantuck which is a witch legend from the county of Sussex where I live in the UK.
The Legend of Nantuck and Sussex Traditions
00:16:50
Speaker
There are different versions of her story and I know that's not unusual for stories that have been circulating for hundreds of years and hers is no different. I think this is probably the most popular one.
00:17:01
Speaker
So according to local legend Nantuck was a woman from Rotherfield who had allegedly poisoned a man or sometimes in some versions of the story it's her husband in the 17th century. When the murder was discovered she ran from the villagers over the next few days by climbing hedges and hiding in Haywicks and it's thought that she intended to take sanctuary in Buxted Parish Church
00:17:28
Speaker
According to the Rite of Asylum, if she could reach the church and touch the altar, she could escape punishment. But with the villagers pursuing her, she was forced to run into the woods. And according to the tale, she disappeared in the woods and was never seen again.
00:17:44
Speaker
Other versions of the story say that the villagers hanged her there, but there's also a legend that says that there's a circular patch of land in the woods, it's called Tuckwood, that stays infertile and no vegetation will grow there. There are still sightings of her ghost running down Tuck Lane and away from the villagers being reported.
00:18:08
Speaker
and so when I found out about her story I tried to find out a bit more and perhaps find out what people local people still knew about her story or how the story was circulating so I joined a villagers group and one man told me that her gravestone was outside the church grounds and obviously that fits with her being considered a witch because she wouldn't have been allowed to be buried on consecrated ground
00:18:36
Speaker
I went to St. Margaret's, the 13th century church there, but I didn't manage to find the gravestone, although I did meet the grave digger there, and he knew the story of Nantuk that had been passed in by his grandmother, and he told me about how the grounds have changed there over time.
00:18:57
Speaker
Coming to the music, the bonfire parades of Sussex have a really strong tradition where I live. One of the local towns here has seven separate bonfire societies and it's a small town. They are said to date back to the failed gunpowder plot in 1605, which was an attempt to overthrow the king. But some think that the tradition goes even further back than that.
00:19:28
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The timelessness of the sound of the bonafide parades was appealing to me. So the song starts with sampled loops put together from the field recordings I collected at the parades. And these represent really the crowd of villagers because I think they must have sounded utterly terrifying.
00:20:42
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Oh, the skies that will take me, make me close to the wind. Oh, the skies that
00:22:15
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Change the world
00:23:25
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You know you found me
00:24:56
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Eternal Rest Written by Tristan Boyle And read by Elry Thomas
Alicia's Fascination with Museum Artifacts
00:25:08
Speaker
Alicia worked the back shift and night shift in the museum. It suited her better. She was definitely a night owl. Her habits used to end up with staying out late at clubs and missing early morning classes. But after failing her second year at university, she forced herself into a daytime rhythm, dragging herself through her degree. She finished with a Desmond degree, a 2-2, after Desmond 2-2, of course. Alicia stumbled into a job at her local city museum, firstly in collections, recording and ordering every item behind the scenes.
00:25:38
Speaker
The items fascinated her, every stone tool, every burial item, but most of all human remains. A morbid curiosity, one which kept many first dates as last dates. However, it was the examination of exhumation that made Alicia tick. Best of all, the sarcophagus. This sarcophagus was special.
00:25:59
Speaker
It had arrived at the museum back in the 70s from a private donor with no real provenance. It was made of a rich, dark wood, the grain worn with sand, and a rich veneer that made the ancient burial box glisten as you walked past it. The hieroglyphs that formed the grooves along the sarcophagus were examples of a lesser-known dynasty, something that bamboozled the museum's Egyptologist.
00:26:22
Speaker
A well-crafted fake aged through chemical means, he would oft pout to any passing researcher if they dared to bring it up. It was a well-known disagreement between the archaeochemist and this Egyptologist as to the age and authenticity of the box. Data doesn't lie, was the oft-sneared retort from the lab.
00:26:40
Speaker
5,000 years old with a 95% confidence. If true, it was frighteningly old. In addition to its controversial origin, the sarcophagus and its body within were treated as extremely fragile. X-ray scans had revealed issues with the structure of the wood, and the body tissue would be better preserved if it kept locked away. This one would keep its secrets forever.
00:27:05
Speaker
Alicia always wondered what it was like inside. She dreamed she could open it up and just sneak a glance at the mummified body and the internal inscriptions. She had a respect for the dead, though. She kept her own little Hippocratic oath to do no unnecessary harm to the burial good she studied and conserved. She figured that if any spirits remained in their physical bodies, her good treatment would stand her in good stead. As long as she didn't cause any damage, she felt safe.
00:27:32
Speaker
The conservation desk was a massive table arranged in the middle of a huge hall. Shelves ran to the high ceiling, carrying huge boxes full of artifacts. No overhead lights ran through the halls. Instead, Alicia had arranged two mobile spotlights and an old lamp to light her work.
00:27:50
Speaker
When she sat down, her tools and equipment surrounded her like a wall, with her item of interest right in front of her. On the occasion when Alicia looked up, she saw two massive statues of Anubis standing either side of the entrance of the hall. Large spears weighing a ton were carried by great stone arms, in such great condition as when they were originally sculpted. They were her protectors. No one would bother her.
00:28:15
Speaker
Alicia started the night shift as usual, passing the guarded reception who was glued to his laptop, playing some video game to pass the time. The key had already been signed out with her name and laid out on the desk. The museum was particularly quiet at night, and despite the importance of the items held within, the graveyard shift was often an opportunity for a guard to relax. Automatic lights flickered to life as Alicia swiftly moved through the building, arriving at the large wooden door with a small lock.
00:28:42
Speaker
Click, creak, close, thud, the rhythm of her arrival. Everything seemed normal in the room. The lamp had been turned down, and Alicia lit up the place by turning on the spotlights. The table was as she'd left it the night before. The only thing that had moved was the sarcophagus.
The Sarcophagus Mystery and Consequences
00:29:03
Speaker
From its place tucked away beside a shelf, it had been propped up against a shelf facing forward with the lid tilted off to the side. Something had certainly been changed. Perhaps a passing researcher had gotten permission to open the coffin? No one had told her, but no one ever did. She could see in the harsh beam of the spotlight that a mummified hand was reaching out of the sarcophagus. She stepped closer.
00:29:28
Speaker
Her heart began to race as she felt excitement grow for what was lurking in the depths of that box. The mummy was contorted, frozen while writhing in agony. It was absolutely gruesome to look at. Alicia was at the lid of the coffin, moving very carefully and deliberately. She was determined to keep her oath. She wouldn't disturb this ancient one.
00:29:49
Speaker
She leaned forward and stretched out her hand, wanting to shift the lid and reseal the mummy away from the various environmental aggressors that would decay the body quicker. A chilling breeze blew over Alicia. Her hand shivered and she accidentally caught the hand of the mummy. Instantly, the entire corpse disintegrated into dust in the coffin. She jumped back, horrified by her destruction. She had barely touched that hand. How delicate was that body?
00:30:17
Speaker
Perhaps the opening of the sarcophagus had done it, weakening the body, her hand being the final straw. She was okay, though. She could just reseal and forget the incident. No one would notice. She hoped. The lid crunched as Alicia slowly shifted it onto the box. She breathed a sigh of relief and glanced back at the stone statues still standing tall. Hopefully they would forgive her. That night, she left early from work feeling sick with guilt.
00:30:45
Speaker
she had done nothing wrong, she reassured herself. In her bed, Alicia couldn't sleep. Voices clawed at her mind, whispering, both comforting and full of horror. She was drifting away. Her eyes shut open. It was 2 AM on the nearby clock. Not feeling in control of her body, she crept out into the dark. Something was calling her. Halfway to the museum, she called a taxi. The rain had begun to fall.
00:31:11
Speaker
Once inside, she noticed the guard had changed. She nodded and grabbed the keys. The room was mostly as she had left it, and yet it seemed empty. Something was missing. The table was sprawled with notes and pens. Alicia sat at her desk and pretended to work. The thoughts clawed at her mind. Where was the sarcophagus? To her left, it was still propped up, but the lid was left open.
00:31:38
Speaker
Curious, Alicia distinctly remembered shifting back the lid. Had someone moved it? At the risk of returning to the scene of the crime, she approached the ancient coffin slowly. She was mesmerized. It beckoned her. It seemed to emanate warmth and she felt cold. So cold. She reached the box and carefully stepped in. She turned and faced out looking across the room.
00:32:05
Speaker
The pit in Alicia's stomach turned and twisted when what was missing in the room became suddenly apparent.
00:32:11
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One of the huge statues was missing. How long had she been asleep for? A couple of hours? No one could have moved it in that time. No human could have. Its being out of place filled her heart with dread, slowly sickening cold. It paralyzed her. It made her shudder, but she still couldn't muster any movement. She was breathing deep when she heard the lid of the sarcophagus begin a crumbling noise as it began to move up over the opening. The light in her view of the room was slowly eclipsed by the stone cover.
00:32:43
Speaker
She was now in the dark. Her breath was shallow and interrupted. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She could not move. A horrendous screeching sound erupted from the room outside the sarcophagus, like rocks scraping together followed by heavy thuds. Closer and closer it got, getting louder and more ominous. The destroyed mummy, the missing statue. Alicia envisaged the horror that must have been unleashed by her work, her mistake.
00:33:13
Speaker
Silence was deafening. It took over Alicia and she felt faint. A crashing noise broke the front of the coffin as something plunged deep into Alicia's chest and through her back. In the glimmer of light through the broken lid, she saw the massive gold shaft of the spear wielded by those great statues. She had broken the rules. She had to suffer the consequences. This was her eternal rest.
00:34:23
Speaker
Thank you for listening to this episode of Modern Myth, a Halloween special. I want to give special thanks to the people who helped make this possible. That is Ellery Thomas, whose website, Ellery.xyz, you can visit for more of their work. And thank you to Liz from Chalk Horse Music. Go to ChalkHorseMusic.com. You can find more of her work there.
00:34:49
Speaker
Thank you again for helping out and thank you for listening. If you enjoyed this, please please please remember that this network is supported by members and you can become a member today. But if you don't really want to do that, what you could do is tell somebody about this episode, share it online, like it, or even leave us a review.
00:35:12
Speaker
all these things help us and they help us grow the network. So once again, trick or treat, happy Halloween.