welcome to Tremorphonic audio horror stories you're listening to the season finale for series one of tremophonic the sounds of fear today's story Scratch was actually the first audio story I wrote and was the reason for releasing my stories as podcasts please follow my Tremorphonic social media and podcast accounts and share my posts and stories to a wider audience thank you for supporting Tremorphonic through
series 1 and I hope to see you again for series 2. Now it's time to sit back and listen to Scratch Hello everyone and welcome to Documented Lives your weekly adventure into the extraordinary stories of ordinary people i'm your host Emma and join me as we talk about the folks that you won't find mentioned in the history books I've got a really unique story for you today and it's a privilege to bring you something so rare
it's a media format that we've never aired before and it's quite mysterious really so last week we received a package at our London offices containing just a single vinyl record there was nothing on it no label no documentation it was just a plain white paper sleeve and on the
front it said Harold Holbourne reads the memoirs of Reginald Holbourne 15 June 1967. So quite a curious one so it's fair to say this piqued the interest of the producer and myself when we started doing a little bit of investigating into these names to see what we could find out now other than birth and marriage records often there isn't a lot that we can find but we did find some mentions of them in old newspaper articles and there's some very interesting stories about Reginald's lucky
escapes at the end of the 19th century here's what we've managed to piece together so far Harold appears to be Reginald's grandson there's also mention of Archie and I think Archie is Harold's dad and therefore Reginald's son are you following good so it seems that Reginald had been traveling across europe but for some reason many details of his journey are just unknown Harold however decided to publish an audio account of his grandfather's story in 1967
and we're lucky enough to be able to share that with you today Harold recorded the memoirs in Oxford but newspapers reported that the day after there was an unexplained fire and this were thought to have destroyed the recording along with all of reginald's handwritten documents even weirder Harold just kind of disappeared immediately afterwards there's some police records that state actually that he was the prime suspect in starting the fire the only record I can
find about him after the fire seems to suggest that maybe he moves to a remote scottish island but there's nothing official there's just hearsay from local papers in 1968.
so ladies and gents what we have for you today is apparently that vinyl record that was supposed to have been destroyed as far as we know this is the only copy that exists it's a little warped probably some fire damage but we've test played a few minutes just to make sure it sounds okay there might be a few kind of skips or distortions but overall we think it's going to be okay and we want to experience this together this is a documented lives first
we're gonna play for you the vinyl record in full we can only apologize for any interference with the sound but we think it's worth it so let's get to it here is the only known recording of the memoirs of Reginald Holbourne presented by and with a forward from his grandson Harold Hello and thank you for this opportunity to create this audio recording I've had my grandfather's letters and journals for a number of years since I inherited them from my father my father Archibald
told me that he'd never read them as he wanted to remember his father the way that he'd last seen him a happy-go-lucky optimist who was always filled with enthusiasm for adventure my father told me stories of Reginald his incredible expeditions to the Amazon and middle Americas my grandfather fancied himself an archaeologist and scientific researcher always on the search for an original find he had attended Oxford University and stayed in close contact with
his professor there who provided him with funding for his investigations enabling him to pursue his passion my father Archibald known to the family as Archie was 12 when his father died and he grew up in Oxfordshire with my grandmother and her sister who moved in with them shortly after the funeral my father married my mother Glenda in 1911 and I was born a year later I knew nothing of my grandfather until my father returned from the war and felt that it was time
I understood more about our family history however he made me promise never to read these documents within his lifetime in case I felt the need to tell my father about the content I kept that promise and for that reason I first read these reports two years ago and soon felt the need to contact yourselves sorry the recording company here so that I could create a longer lasting version than the delicate paper they were written on I must emphasize that I do
not read these letters with pride for the man my grandfather was more out of duty to honor the memories of those caught up in and affected by the events that surrounded my grandfather's journey until now no living person has heard the reports I will recount here today so please listen well the first letter was the only one addressed to my grandmother and helps us to understand where he was at the time of these events both geographically and mentally
28th of january 1897. My dearest Martha we arrived at our lodgings above the coach house today just before sundown i'm not certain what the nearest town is called but it should be on the postmark when you receive this we've not seen a large settlement for a couple of days but we are carrying enough supplies to last us the mountains here are a sight to behold a lot like that painting that used to hang above your parents' mantle
the silent nature of the roads we're traveling can be eerie at times with only the sounds of nature wind and the trundling axle of the cart wheels the sight of the surrounding snow-covered peaks clear-cut against a crystal sky stretching endlessly on and on is something a person can hardly tire of the winter weather adds to the natural beauty and a cold crisp air keeps us alert the sun is settling later here and back in England allowing for perhaps an extra hour of journey
during daylight the roads are unsteady at the best of times it's not worth traversing these mountains in the dark the risk of coming off the road is too high but do not worry for me my love our young coachman Alistair an English adventure seeker and mountaineer has taken this route many times before and knows the safest routes and resting places between here and our destination in Milan the mountains here in Switzerland are breathtaking I wish you could have shared this expedition with
me but alas I know these long journeys no longer agree with you like they used to Walter though is good company he may only be young but he provides very intelligent conversation his unique insights into my own research are why I hired him as an assistant after all I hope you and our little Archie are coping well with the continuing cold weather I hope it's not as bad as it was at Christmas I don't think I'll ever see that much snow again even here
in the foothills of the mountains Alistair is quite the character so enthusiastic about this area he truly loves the mountains he's a keen traveler himself he's told me about his planned adventures in Mexico and India and tomorrow we travel to a set of Roman ruins that Alistair insists we must see while we travel through this way I will send you another letter when we reach Milan next week take care my angel, Reggie
the next letter was not dated but I deduced from the context that it was written the next day more like a report on the events than a letter he addressed it to his colleague and mentor back at University of Oxford Dear professor Gardner you won't believe it our guide Alistair was such a great addition to our team the Roman ruins he showed us were worth every second of the detour I've never seen a
site quite like it we parked the coach and horses a short walk away near the road and had to descend the mountainside by foot I took my satchel almost dropping it over the side at one point but thankfully I held my footing and gripped it tight I would have been devastated to lose the excavation kit you loaned me never mind my notebooks I daren't leave anywhere that I am not when we reached the base of the valley the site we were looking for
still wasn't clear but a short stroll through a carved out chasm led to the most incredible sight it was simply a doorway in the side of the rock but at the same time so much more than just an entrance way the ancient timber doors would have stood 12 feet high and what remained had rotten back to just leave the elaborate iron hinges protruding from the surround and what a frame it was the intricately carved detail of the stone had of course
weathered back to leave smoother features than one would have decorated this arch with but you could still make out the twisting patterns of snakes and swords knitting nature and metal like bramble and barbed wire a deadly combination that no man should dare to cross any inscription that may have once existed on the plaque above the keystone could no longer be seen but the grandeur of the empty flat-faced facade implied that an important message had once been
present there peering through the doorway we could see into what appeared to be laid out like a small chapel or temple but empty of any typical furnishings the interior walls were wet with runoff from the mountainside this temple appeared to be carved from the stone of the cliff no need for any supporting columns like i would have expected from Roman architecture in fact nothing here seemed Roman like Aliister had suggested
but for all my academic studies I couldn't place another architectural style that would have described it it was clearly an ancient place but with the intricacy of carving designs I would have expected from only the last few hundred years rockfall filled one side of the temple so due to the clearly unsafe nature of the structure we did not step far through the doorway just inside the left of the entrance Alistair showed us to a smaller and more solidly preserved
side room instead which again presented more interwoven swords and snakes across the walls but this time they appeared to be carved into a harder more permanent material marble perhaps it was hard to make out with only a lantern to illuminate it but it was clearly cold and smooth to the touch it was like every noise we made echoed in such a way that vibrations flowed through the stone the end of the room presented us with a simple font overflowing with water that had dripped down
stalactites from the ceiling Walter was clearly thrilled to be investigating such a hidden gem he ran on ahead with an excited energy beckoning us forward into the darkness Alistair didn't seem remotely worried about our distance from the exit of this room and the depth we were traveling into the cavern he'd clearly been inside these ruins before perhaps he'd brought other travellers this way through the mountains how else would he have known about this place after all
at that realization I felt a little disappointed that this wasn't the unique exploratory experience I've been hunting for for so many years one day I know I will be the first to uncover a site and its secrets but today I did get a little bit closer Walter's enthusiasm caused him to knock into the marble font with his knee so we of course checked that he was not injured as he sat clutching his leg but while I kneeled I noticed slots engraved into the floor on all four sides of the font
with my fingertips I removed a little dirt from one of the slots and found it was surprisingly loose with a different type of stone underneath I took out my excavation kit and carefully lifted the loose stones and grit until it was clear that there was a stone tablet housed in this trench I checked all sides of the font and found it was the same for each of the cavities each contained a tablet there was so little light emitting from the lantern I could not discern
the details on the tablet surfaces so I removed each one of the four tablets from their cavities each about the size of a diary or ledger and carried them in my satchel at that juncture with Walter now moving slower and myself laden with extra weight we returned along the path we'd trodden back to the carriage in order to reach tonight's accommodation by nightfall to say I'm delighted with today's discovery is an understatement
these tablets are remarkable i'll take some time along our journey to study them this could make an impressive addition to the university's collection now that we have the tablet set out in front of us it's hard to tell if there's an order to the four tablets each one is inscribed with writing from top to bottom but it's not all clear lettering there are sections that are definitely Latin but it's intermittent with other writing and runes from an alphabet perhaps more than one that
I don't even recognize some of the lettering it so thoroughly scratched that I couldn't say what language is underneath the best I can judge is that one of the tablets may be the first as unlike the others it starts with lectori salutem which approximates to greetings to the reader I'll write to you again tomorrow once I have deciphered more of the confusing style of writing that has been adopted here I'm euphoric I won't sleep tonight
I'll be up for hours working on this with Walter I will report more tomorrow Reggie again my grandfather neglects to date his next letter to the professor but it logically follows from the previous message Dear professor Gardner Walter and I made progress last night but the tablets are curious it's as if the writer was a prisoner somewhere and carved these tablets as a memoir he speaks of male
captus bene detentus or being wrongly captured but well or properly detained but what is especially strange is that it's never in full sentences just phrases enough to get a gist but not to fully understand if I could decipher the other languages used i might be able to get further but it's challenging to even read the Latin inscription it's as if someone at some stage has purposely tried to scratch the scratch the tablet in such a way that the text is illegible we've
properly cleaned the stones so they're as clear as we can make them but often we're missing vital parts of sentences however the final two lines of this tablet are plain to see faciam quodlibet quod necesse est or I'll do whatever it takes the writer's intent was to break free of his wrongful imprisonment perhaps that was the purpose of the temple though it was a strangely religious looking place in which to hold someone captive but it would explain why he left the tablets buried
out of sight of his captors the final line seemed oddly compelling faciam ut mei memineris or i'll make you remember me almost like a threat it seemed a peculiar way to sign off a message while Walter and I tried to work out the other languages on the tablet we can move on to look at the Latin passages on the others I'll report on the next tablet when we have some time at this evening's lodgings Reggie
so we'll just take a short pause while we turn over to side B I don't know if you guys could hear it but we could hear background noises from the recording studio we were thinking that for whatever reason there were no retakes or editing when Howard was recording interesting some of the glitches we can hear we can't tell if it's analog errors on the vinyl or if it's a digital error with our recording vinyl sometimes skips if it's damaged doesn't it but it doesn't
sound quite like that it's odd we're hoping it's just a fault with our equipment but nevertheless we can still hear it and we can't wait to hear more once again this is a Documented Lives first and we join you our listeners and being the first people to hear the content of side B are we recording?
the next letter at first I was surprised was not addressed to my grandmother but then I realized that my grandfather would have been trying to protect her from information that she didn't need to know that would unnecessarily worry her when there was nothing he or she could do about it Dear professor Gardner tonight I am alone I must recant the details about tonight's event and I must ask that you contact those who should be informed
I would perform this duty myself if I could be there sooner we had made good progress today through the mountain pass the daylight was bright the air was crisp and the horses plodded on happily that was until we turned onto a shadowed mountainside path shadowed by the mountain itself our eyes took time to adjust Walter lit a lantern to see the inside of the carriage more clearly but stranger still it continued to get darker outside rapidly
sunset was not due for at least another hour so in the impenetrable darkness we found a spot to pull to the side of the path it was so dark we could barely make out the cliff edge outside the window Alistair stepped down from the box atop the cabin I heard an almighty thud outside the door the carriage so I climbed out onto the roadside to investigate the noise Alistair was peering into the dense darkness
ahead along the path as if he knew the path was supposed to be there but couldn't make it out I lost focus on the noise that had drawn me outside and instead walked past the horses to catch him up he turned to look at me as he turned his face was dimly lit by the lantern light behind me the left side of his face shadowed by my presence but as I looked at him his eyes widened looking behind me the lantern light suddenly flashed onto the right hand side of his face
my shadow darted sideways as his mouth opened and his head turned I thought for a moment the horses were playing up and starting off without us on board but alas that would have been good news I turned to look the wheel of the carriage had dropped over the cliff edge the lantern had fallen to the side of the vehicle and I heard Walter still having difficulties with his leg shouting at first but turning panicked
as he tried to open the roadside door of the carriage to no avail the coach slipped further Walter's shouts turned to screams as the carriage flipped to its side and dragged down the cliffside the horses straightened their legs and dug in their hooves and desperately trying to stop themselves from being dragged backwards but the weight of the vehicle was too much for them to counter we could only watch in horror as the horses slipped and skidded to the edge
of the ravine their eyes widening and faintly glinting back at us through the deepening darkness the sounds of snapping wood Walters screams and the horse's frantic cries created a cacophony of harrowing noise in the otherwise silent darkness the horses slipped back as their harness twisted and raised them off their feet pulling them over the edge in emphatic fashion the carriage dropped the sounds grew fainter the lantern light grew smaller until a distant and
echoing thud burst a thousand splintered crackles around the valley and then there was silence I had fallen to my knees in horror at the events I was struggling to comprehend we were helpless to prevent it had Alistair stopped the cart too close to the edge it was impossible to tell in the darkness the darkness that had enveloped the whole road the darkness that now appeared to be lifting the
way was still shadowed but the road was clear to see the scuffs and dragged dirt were lit by daylight there on the edge where the carriage had fallen was my satchel my satchel containing the tablets had Walter thrown this out the window before falling to his end it seemed such an unlikely thought to have gone through his head at the time perhaps the thud that caused me to leave the carriage was the satchel and tablets hitting the ground
one tablet was visible having fallen half out of the satchel even in the shadowed light I could make out a clear phrase in absentum lucis tenebrae vincunt in the absence of light darkness prevails the chance that this was the one phrase clearly presented to me felt strangely ominous did this refer to the darkness of the temple in which he was imprisoned or had it somehow foretold the sudden darkness we experienced today I will have to postpone my translations for tonight
but I thought it only appropriate to relay my memory of today's events to you in writing while the memory is fresh I am unsure about the onward trajectory of my journey now we must of course assist law enforcement in their investigations however we cannot stay here for long as the winter weather worsens the post may not be as frequent as usual when the snow settles so I will continue my translations in my journal after we have rested Reginald
this was the last letter my grandfather sent when I read this the first time it didn't feel like my grandfather truly felt the loss of his friend and assistant but grief affects us all in different ways and I believe writing these accounts were his way of internally processing his experience Reginald did continue to write in his journal as promised and I will continue to present this history with the passages that followed from this point in time I should note that this carriage
incident was reported in the newspapers indeed even in the British papers so my grandmother was not as blissfully ignorant as my grandfather might have hoped from this point on I will try to avoid interrupting my grandfather's account so that you can hear the events the way my grandfather presented them in his journal fortunately he did date his journal entries so we start from the next entry after the accident let me find the right page pages are quite delicate all right here we are
journal entry 4th of february 1897. it has been a few days since my last entry Alistair has barely spoken to me since the incident but I don't believe it's simply because he's upset he seems very focused on something we've stayed put in the accommodation here while we deal with the police investigation into the accident the innkeeper is generous and hearing of our plight offered us two of his best rooms the
bedroom is large enough to house a small table and chair where I'm able to sit and write this account with a large picture window looking down the valley in the day the village buildings stretch out below and at night the moonlight glistens off a small lake in the distance staying in one place has given me some time to look over the tablets in more detail and translate a few more extracts Walter's absence has been trying whenever I want to turn to him for an
opinion his screams echo in my ears without him I am both lost in my mind and in my work the language of the tablets continues to puzzle me and the Latin extracts continue to show strange scratching marks across the letters I have worked out what I can decipher from the second tablet in girum imus et consumimur igni translating roughly as we go in circles and are consumed by fire this passage is closely followed by igne natura renovatur integra
or through fire nature is reborn whole I have to assume this referred to a fire that the writer survived I don't know where the circles are but there's definitely a defiant survivalist tone to the language like the circles are essential for survival but I didn't notice any circles where we found the tablets smoke and fire damage in the temple would have made it difficult to detect anything so many centuries after the prisoner was left there the next bit keeps nagging at me
nil igitur mors est ad nos death therefore is nothing to us it's clear the writer is unafraid of death after the ordeal he's been through but this is the first instance we've seen a use of the first person plural who is the writer referring to as us was there another person imprisoned with him the last sentence in this tablet is strangely foreboding fui quod est eris quod sum I was once what you are you will be what I am is he telling the reader that
as once they were free the reader would become a prisoner is this version of you even addressing the reader I will need to reflect on this one further I feel tonight I will talk to Alistair about the next leg of the journey whether he thinks we'll be able to procure new transportation and hopefully we'll finally have a chance to talk about what happened the other night I will translate the third tablet tomorrow 5th of february 1897.
I think I'm being manipulated and the cost is unforgivable I saw his body engulfed and unable to leave tonight the inn burned and monumentally violently Alistair and I met in the lounge for a drink before we retired for the night he told me of his contact that would send a carriage in the morning a one-horse carriage this time but a means a transportation nonetheless the lounge was a cosy room rich ruby curtains covered the
large sash windows and the mottled carpet almost caressed your feet the walls were faded and patchy the pattern the wallpaper had once displayed was now a distant memory the fireplace crackled away beside us the charred remains of a log smoldering like it had been burning for about an hour already I accidentally pushed my satchel across the table across the table emptying our half full glasses onto the tabletop and rug below so I offered to buy us both one last night cap
I stood up and left the lounge approaching the innkeeper at his desk in the hallway I was out of the lounge for about a minute and that's when I heard the screams innumerable cries of anguish so sudden in their piercing volume and pitch I turned to the doorway and was blinded by the brightness of flames the flickering ferocity of the blaze filled the room with no space for any person within to remain unscathed
it took until that moment for me to realise I was looking back at the lounge I had just left Alistair was inside the deafening screams the howls of agony emanating from the faceless frenzy of fire suddenly fell to silence just as rapidly as they had started the flames rapidly dimmed to reveal the devastation behind the room was black no surface had been left untouched by the furnace of heat and alas no
person could possibly have been left unscathed as I squinted through the brightness of the fire I could make out the blackened figure of a body where Alistair had sat on the far side of the room I was still and silent petrified by the shock staring through the unimaginable and unfathomably instant destruction on the charcoaled remains of the table alongside the body was my satchel the leather bag with
a metal clasp an item that fire could destroy without hesitance but it was intact untouched no sign of melted metal no singe of animal hide and that's when it became apparent to me some destructive and evil force is trying to prevent me from reading these tablets no person could have lit that fire so effectively just like no person could have blocked out the sun resulting in the carriage falling over that cliff and both times I escaped the tragedy by seconds
these incidents were designed to stop me to stop me from translating the satchel containing the tablets had been the reason for me to exit the carriage and the reason we needed new drinks reflecting on the translations from last night I wonder if the tablets were sending a warning the tablets were indeed consumed by fire but emerged whole and intact but the circles what circles are related to the fire what circles did the tablets enter
I am forced to question the providence of the tablets it's as if someone planted them there specifically for me to find are any of these writings even true I must finish what I've started and complete the translation find out the truth before this entity can try to stop me again the third tablet I fear is making this truth apparent the writer reports 0:35:57.840,1193:02:47.295 i erexit monumentum aere perennius or I raised a monument more enduring than bronze
at first I was unsure what monument he referred to but the next passage made it clearer littera scripta manet the written word endures hoc in enim corpus meum for this is my body the writer believed he was achieving immortality through the written word as if the stone tablets held his soul whether I believe that an entity lives in these tablets I cannot say all empirical logic makes me think preposterous nonsense but the events of the last few days are making me wary
I believe in coincidence but these events make me question what I thought I knew is some demonic force trying to prevent me from completing the translation am I perhaps condemning an evil spirit through my translation a power that is trying to stop me I will remain in the town here while the authorities establish what's to be done but without Alistair i am again truly lost he was a good man a knowledgeable man in lieu of
Walter he might have helped make more sense of these writings but I will continue truly alone 6th of february 1897.
I am locked in my chamber tonight the curtains are closed and I am reluctant to light more than one lantern to see by I fear I should not have been translating these tablets at all the least I can do is finish writing what I have discovered as a warning to anyone who tries to investigate the stones further I was wrong so very wrong if any power was preventing me from finishing my translation it was some omnipotent force of good
it knew what I was doing decoding and it was taking all measures it could to stop me the distortion of the text makes sense now it's like the entity was trying to make it illegible scratching words away scratching words trying to prevent it from being read I will relay my already completed translation from the legible engravings on tablet three I hope it will make it clear why I must not translate the fourth I missed a message hidden in the previous passage there was an unusual spacing of
letters which I didn't know what to make of at the time the tablet started with i erexit monum entum which can also translate as I raised smiling demons the imprisonment starts to make sense this writer had practiced dark magics to bring evil entities into this world the tablet talks directly about the act of translation which appears oddly personal and targeted omnis traductor traditor every translator is a traitor
I can't take this personally of course this was written hundreds of years ago and likely refers to the passages that I can't translate non in legendo sed in intelligendo leges constitunt the laws depend not on being read but being understood this part made me worry about what laws are being referred to but it suggests the simple act of reading the text will not have the desired effect it relies on the reader understanding what they are reading perhaps these tablets aren't the original text
what if the tablets themselves are just a translation of something that predates them the Latin in the inscription is like the Latin in my writings mixed with another language a message passed from iteration to iteration from retelling to retelling round and round like it's circular each telling also seems to suffer an affliction the scratches on the tablet the accidents surrounding my translation so the circles are they objects or are they
patterns is the story going in circles retelling through the tablets retelling through my writing retelling across history passing from generation to generation am I a part of this the last passage I translated explains why even as an agnostic non-superstitious scientist and researcher I could not tempt fate further invictus maneo luctor et emergo ex relatio I remain unvanquished I struggle and emerge arising out of the narration my narration my
relaying of this to you in my journal the entity that claims to be imprisoned within these stones unafraid of death with a desire to be reborn will be revived through my work and translation so I must end my account here the last tablet must remain unseen and I must try to destroy it
from the desk of the Polizia Cantonal Swiss Confederation 8th of february 1897. dear Martha Holbourne I regret to inform you... THROUGH YOUR WORDS I LIVE thank you for listening to Scratch presented by Tremorphonic Scratch was written performed recorded and edited by Richard Wilson guest starring the voice of Emma Brooks with music and sound effects from Fesleyan Studios all my stories are copyright protected and any reuse or adaptation
requires express written consent don't forget to follow Tremorphonic on Facebook Twitter Instagram YouTube TikTok and Tremophonic.com and keep an eye on podcast channels for my upcoming stories if you would like to enable me to record and publish more of my stories and also create a vinyl pressing of Scratch so that it can be heard as it was originally intended your support would be much appreciated in whatever amount you're able to offer you can find me on
buymeacoffee.com or head over to Tremophonic.com to find out more about me and my horror projects I look forward to seeing you again for series 2 of Tremorphonic audio horror stories later in 2022 thank you for listening