The Gravid Tape

When I was a freshman in college, I had no clue what I wanted to study, and I didn't have many options, either.


The first college I attended, before I transferred, was in dire financial straits. The president of the college, and her thirty-six vice presidents, had basically misappropriated so much money that the list of majors that had been cut in the previous two years and the list of still-available majors were about equal in size. I had originally wanted to major in anthropology, but that was one of the first degrees on the chopping block.


While most students would drown their existential dread in a can of Bud Light, I was neither old enough to drink nor well-connected enough to get convincing fake IDs. So, I tried joining different clubs, but I struck out in all of them. The gaming society was insular, full of Magic players who probably took out loans to afford their decks and D&D groups who were locked in campaigns that had been going on for years. Two different book clubs sneered at me when I told them I didn't think Harry Potter was all it was cracked up to be. The less said about my experience in the culinary club, the better.


Eventually, I found somewhere I belonged. The university's film school had been one of the first cuts when the financial issues started. Because of one clause or another in his contract, the dean of this particular school was kicked upstairs to an admin position instead of being fired. Let's call him Dr. Whaley. Dr. Whaley had gotten the green light for a 'film appreciation club', with the caveat he would not be paid to run it. I decided to attend a session or two.


The first session, Dr. Whaley told us something I'll never forget. "The only person who should have a say about whether or not a film is valuable isn't a body of decrepit zombies that call themselves an Academy, or a twenty-something online whose mixed up 'yelling at the camera' with 'humor', or some member of academia who insists that the medium of film declined with the invention of the talkie. You, and you alone, can decide what films are valuable to you."


We watched some of the usual suspects; Citizen Kane, A Clockwork Orange, Psycho, but we also watched newer stuff like The Dark Knight and How to Train Your Dragon. It was an attempt to get us to appreciate cinema in all its forms, but also point out where the warts were in the classics; to say there’s an uncomfortable amount of racism in Gone with the Wind would be an understatement.


By the end of the fall semester, I was the treasurer. It was a small club: there was myself; Dr. Whaley; Sidney, a senior who had once been part of the film program before it got cut, now staying at the college to fulfill a math major; Tyler, a fellow freshman who was going for a literary studies major; and… Quentin.


We all just assumed Quentin was a science student, maybe something in psychology, because of the way he dissected the Ludovico Technique in A Clockwork Orange. I took a psych class, but I never ran into him, but I always figured it was just because he was more advanced than me. He looked like he was maybe old enough to be a grad student, but I never even learned his last name, and Dr. Whaley seemed okay with him.


Towards the end of spring semester, Quentin told us he has a film project he wanted to share. This surprised all of us. Sid outright asked, “You’re a psych student. Why did you make a film?”


Quentin explained. “I’m taking a poetry class, and the final project for this term is to write and record a video poem. I used a camera from the library to record it; I think you’ll like it. It’s pretty funny.”


Dr. Whaley was one of those people who was very supportive of his students (that's what he called us, despite it not being a formal class) and invited Quentin to share the project with us at the next meeting.

***

Not all forbidden media is large-scale. Some student projects have anomalous elements in them, and his project was one of them.


Sidney, Tyler, Dr. Whaley and I gathered in the same classroom we always did to watch our films. Quentin plugged in a purple and red flash drive and started up the film, whose file name was “Gravy.mov”. “I had a friend help me with this,” he explained. “Just provided the voiceover.”


It began in a downright surreal manner-- the camera was focused on a hand holding a BLT sandwich. The sandwich was manipulated like a hand puppet to recite lines from his poem, titled Gravid. Here's how the first stanza went:


"Gravid, by Quentin N.


"Something new grows inside her,

A lemming, a lemur, maybe a spider.

It writhes beneath the dermis thin,

Threatens to pierce her virgin skin.

She screams and writhes and shakes,

Praying that soon, her water breaks,

And the thing within her aching womb

Finds itself in its father's tomb."


We were watching this in a vacant room of the student union. While we were laughing at the absurdity of a sandwich puppet, Dr. Whaley was turning pale. He said he needed to make a phone call, and ducked out of the room.


Right before the second stanza started, the hand stopped "speaking". A voice, presumably belonging to the hand's owner, asks "We good, dude?" before a sledgehammer comes down and crushes the hand. The audio track cuts out just as the hand's owner starts screaming, and Quentin's voice plays as the hand writhes in pain, bones and muscle exposed to the air.


"It will be born some time anon,

Eating the Whore of Babylon.

From its maw, it utters a cry,

That will dry the sea and rot the sky

Mother writhes and mother screams,

Mother sees the child in her dreams."


Tears of shock are in Sidney’s eyes as she asks, “Where’s Quentin?” She looks up just in time to see him doing… something to the door from the outside. He jammed the handle with something, and Sidney can’t get it open.


Tyler gets up to try the door. The handle doesn't move. He picks up the fire extinguisher to try to break the window on the door and force it open from the outside; even as he manages to shatter the window, it’s too small for him to get his hand through and clear the obstruction.


The whole time, I'm glued to the screen. I couldn’t look away; my mind was filled with equal parts fascination and disgust, as if I was watching some gruesome surgery, where the patient is screaming because the anesthetic is ineffective, but the doctor keeps operating anyway. The broken hand… changes. Lumps of flesh and bits of bone recombine to form something that looks like a cross between a human mouth and a lamprey's sucker. It eats the remains of the sandwich as Quentin's voice continues to speak.


"It shall be cesarean,

And then the child will be born again.

Polka-dots dance across her vision,

As the doctor makes the first incision.

Blood flows from unsullied skin,

As the wet nurse is pulled in.


Gravid, Gravid, Gravity,

Kill the sky and drain the sea.


The child is born, the world is lost

Within a hellish pentecost,

Child eats mother, sister eats brother,

And the whole world shall be--"


Something awful was going to happen if the poem finished. I didn’t know how I knew; it was as if there was a voice in my very soul telling me the recital could not be finished. Not knowing what else to do, I ran to the computer and unplugged every cable I could find, managing to get the power cord unplugged before the last word could be spoken. I unplugged every other cable as well, just in case the projector somehow kept playing.


I remember there being something wrong with the projector’s screen. The canvas was now blank, but it was warping outwards, to the room, as if something behind the screen was stretching out into it. It was completely stationary, which was the oddest thing about it.


Dr. Whaley came back, wearing sunglasses with X's on each lens, and a member of maintenance to get the door open. The look of relief on his face haunts me-- I think he expected at least one of us to be dead.


"Where's the data?" He asked, coming to the computer.


I unplugged the flash drive that Quentin had stored the video on. Dr. Whaley placed it in a Faraday bag, and turned off the projector. As he did, there was a soft screech from the projector screen, and then everything seemed to return to normal.

***

The club disbanded after that. I saw Sidney in the dining hall a couple of times, but I never heard from Tyler again.


Dr. Whaley met with me before the semester ended. He said that he'd already offered a letter of recommendation to Tyler (who was transferring colleges) and had told Sidney he would always be a positive reference for her. He asked if there was anything he could do for me.


"Yeah. Explain what the fuck that was."


He told me that it was a recitation of the poem Gravid by Quentin Naismith, a poet from the 1940s whose work was never widely published, due to its deleterious effects on reality. He told me that the 1996 Milwaukee explosion wasn't caused by a gas leak, but by someone playing a recording of Naismith's poem Flagrante. Gravid would likely have killed, at the very least, everyone in the building we were in through "infestation".


"And the video?"


"The student-- I doubt he was one, come to think of it-- needed a medium to transmit it. Film-- or at least, the moving image-- is one of the more powerful mediums for proliferating an anomaly like that. If it were to a larger audience, it's likely a good part of the campus would be infested."


"And… there's more like this?"


He nodded. "There's The Concordance, The Maddening Quiet, The Garrison Footage, the Kilauea Tape… that's just in film. I had to get on a phone with a colleague of mine that night to confirm that what I was listening to was actually Gravid."


I nodded. “I think I’d like the letter of recommendation. There’s a school in Ohio that’s supposed to have a good film course.”


Dr. Whaley smiled at me. “After all that, you still want to study film? You could run into some dangerous stuff in that field. I don’t want you to be hurt.”


“Can the film really hurt me if I don’t think it has value?”


Dr. Whaley sighed. “It can. And I hope you never run into anything else. What’s the name of the school?”

***

As I stated in my last post, I ended up doing my bachelor’s thesis on The Concordance and the impact it had on early cinema. That was what got me back on Dr. Whaley’s radar; he met with me a few days before graduation, and offered me a position.


“It doesn’t pay well,” he told me. “But you’ll get training, and you’ll be able to help people. You’ll be helping us stop people like Quentin. People who use films, books, games, art… people who use culture and media to try and cause harm.”


“Do you run it?” I asked.


“No. But I’ve met the people who do. They do good for us, and we have people all over the world.” He paused. “I’m actually going to be leaving the country soon. There’s been a report of someone distributing copies of the Garrison Footage in Taipei. Two people have already died. I could use an extra set of hands.”


I told him to let me think about it. Instead, I had a drink about it. The Concordance wasn’t the only thing I’d dug up during my research; Naismith’s works, the Black Rondeau, the Hemaphyte Movement, and so many ‘last known footage’ videos, depicting impossibilities, causing impossibilities. I’d fallen down a rabbit hole, and I knew it was impossible for me to climb out on my own, if at all.

So, I figured, it would probably be best if I made like Alice and find friends on an island within a sea of tears, even if those friends ended up being a bunch of dodos and lorikeets. I boarded the plane to Taipei a week later, and have been part of this Institute ever since.

Institute Q&A

The head of the Institute has encouraged me to do a Q & A session with this blog's readers. So, after collecting questions from Discord and Telegram, here are the answers.

Have you ever investigated (insert weird piece of media here)?

About half of the questions I received were along these lines, so I figured this was a good place to start. 

Polybius: Alleged arcade cabinet that dispensed LSD and was monitored by the CIA. It's a hoax, and a shoddy one at that. Probably based on a failed initiative by the CIA to attempt to bug arcade machines in areas like Berkley or NYC; the noise from the arcade made the bugs useless, and what bugs were useful were often damaged or destroyed by routine maintenance or even people just playing the games. 

SCP: A weird fiction website. I think the only people who believe that it's real are tweens who play too much Infinite IKEA on Roblox (and if you are one of those, please stop reading this blog, I don't want to be slapped by COPPA).

Atuk: Unproduced screenplay notorious for having several actors associated with it die, including John Candy, Phil Hartman, and John Belushi. Due to ongoing legal proceedings, we're unable to comment on this particular work.

Snuff Films: We have found about half a dozen. "GUTS GUTS GUTS GUTS GUTS GUTS" is the worst I've ever seen. We always report them to the authorities, but more than once, it turned out to be a film student's final project that was leaked online, and everyone involved is fine physically.

"That one Super Sentai series where the main actors all died": I have no clue what this is talking about. Super Sentai is the Japanese franchise that Power Rangers is based on, but I've not found anything about this. I know I have at least one Japanese reader of this blog, do you know what this is about?

Literally any found footage film: Do you honestly think that last known videos and/or outright snuff films would be shown in theaters? I wouldn't put it past Hollywood at this point, but found footage is almost always fictional. 

What's the Institute's verdict on the events surrounding the 1912 silent film The Concordance and the subsequent destruction of all copies of the film?

I did my undergrad thesis on The Concordance. It's more influential than people realize; the Motion Picture Production Code of 1934 probably wouldn't have had four pages forbidding various forms of "the depiction of occult acts in a positive manner" if not for The Concordance.

That said, I'm almost positive that at least one copy still exists. It is damn near impossible to destroy a braced film by burning it.

Is the 2003 Tanner Bigfoot tape real?

It's more credible than the Patterson-Gimlin footage, due to the fact that we have hospital records to back up the injuries sustained by Lacey Tanner. However, we don't believe that the creature on film is bigfoot; generally, 'capable of flight' isn't something corroborated by bigfoot lore.

I heard that the Garrison Footage killed sixteen people, is that true?

That was the death toll as of 2019. It circulated online during the height of the pandemic; the current death toll is estimated to be between 36 and 40. I should note it's safe to watch for most people-- just make sure that that you have someone to bring you back after you're done watching it. Most deaths caused by the Garrison Footage are from dehydration.

What's your opinion on 'mind_the_gap$w.mov'?

I hope to God that it's a hoax, but it's impossible to know for sure; digital media isn't braced and can be deleted with the click of a mouse, so it's harder to tell genuine anomalies from the hoaxes.

What do you think of the 1989 religious superhero musical film Exodusman?

I think that the accidents on the set were exaggerated and weren't caused by "Satanic saboteurs" as the director claimed, but by sheer incompetence. That said, the alleged 'angel' that kept appearing during production was witnessed by several people who had no ties to the film or the church providing funding, so events are a tad muddled.

Is there any veracity to the story of Lady Annabelle Jones’s psychic photographs? 

Seems like someone saw the Strange Pictures Halloween Special this year. We believe that Annabelle Jones thought the photographs were genuine, but similar photographs from the era have been proven fake with easily replicated techniques. This isn't to say spectral and psychic phenomena aren't real, I have firsthand experience with them. 

Does the institute have any knowledge as to the whereabouts of the lost tablets of Adrahasis? 

At first I thought this was referring to the incomplete tablets of the Babylonian epic Atra-Hasis, but apparently Adrahasis is something completely different, which is… confusing. After talking with some of my archaeologist colleagues, they’re convinced that at least one of the tablets is in the British Museum but haven’t been put on exhibit due to ‘undisclosed dangers’. Beyond that, we’re not sure.

Are there any extant copies of Johann Hofmann’s Ghoul Cults of the Great War, despite its ban by the Nazi government? 

Occasionally a copy pops up in an ‘esoteric bookstore’, wedged between books on homeopathy and copies of “How to Become a Werewolf”, typically on the same shelf as ‘genuine’ editions of the Necronomicon that cost $60. They’re largely reproductions; genuine copies with the anomalies intact are harder to find.

That said, the Institute did manage to procure a copy in the 1990s, when the son of a Thule Society member attempted to burn his father’s possessions (Nazi memorabilia collectors and hate groups had been alternately offering thousands of dollars and threatening the owner to attempt to acquire them) and found several braced items among them.

There are urban legends about NASA scientists trying to locate and photograph God, is there any truth to that? 

A friend of my family worked for NASA, but resigned after the stress of the Challenger incident nearly gave him a heart attack. I asked him about this, and he said that there are photographs from Apollo 13 that took images of space beyond the dark side of the moon, and that there’s something there, ‘But it isn’t God’.

 

About a decade back I swear an image file called truevoid.gif made the rounds on a bunch of paranormal web forums, but now I can’t find a single trace of its existence. Any idea as to what happened to it?

Oh shit, truevoid, there's a name I've not heard in a while. I remember that someone tried making a game based off of it some time in 2015 but apparently they used a copyrighted song in it without approval, so that got nuked from the internet too.

While the original image has vanished from the surface internet, there's an occasional mention of it on darkweb conspiracy forums. I'm not qualified to write about it myself, but I think Cecily wrote an essay about it back in 2018. I'll ask her if she wants to put it up on the blog.

How do I access Shadow Netflix?

Please let this be a joke. We had to work around the clock in 2018 to shut down Skreen, an actual anomalous streaming service. More about that later.

How long has the Institute been around?/How old is the Institute?

In its current form, the Institute dates back to July 19th, 1986, when a group of "protesters" raided a public library in Michigan and burned several items deemed "corruptive" in the parking lot. Most of the usual suspects of the time were there- Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, Howl, Naked Lunch, and The Color Purple. Among the oddities were a few volumes of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles, for 'promoting homosexuality'.

A librarian looking through the pile of ashes after the incident found a single volume had escaped unscathed, having been braced. It was a novel, Nemesis by Walter Brink (Not to be confused with the Asimov novel of the same name). Nemesis was about a young woman possessed by the "spirit of revenge" whose victims ended up receiving karmic punishment corresponding to their crimes; the protestors objected to the fact that one of the antagonists was an evangelical preacher. The librarian took it back into the library and kept it hidden for almost a year.

Meanwhile, a string of apparent arsons would plague the city, resulting in the deaths of the majority of the people who had attempted to burn Nemesis. Except it wasn't arson; the librarian saw one of the people who participated in the burning spontaneously combust.

From there, the librarian asked some of their friends around the country about weird things they had found during their job. They realized Nemesis wasn't a unique case, and from there, the community grew into what it is today. 

Does the Institute ever release less-harmful versions of media?

We'd like to, some day. But unfortunately, that requires talent and funding. So while we'd like to take The Rapturous Revival of the Crosse on an off-Broadway tour or release a non-fatal version of any volume of the Adventures in Alorane series, we just don't have the resources at the moment. 

What media have you debunked?

More than you think, less than we'd like. I'll write more on this next year, as this was a very common question. 

Does the Institute have any rival organizations?

Most rivalries we have are academic, and we collaborate with other organizations frequently. A few urban exploration communities partner with us so that we can train to navigate abandoned buildings and other difficult terrain. We also work with paranormal investigators, and we've consulted cryptozoologists when trying to determine what the hell was on the Mackinac Island Drone Footage. 

That said, the Nova Network has been a colossal pain since the mid-2000s, when it shifted away from documentaries to conspiracy and paranormal programming like Skinwalker Ranch, America's Most Haunted and Aliens Among Us, low-effort alternate history programming like their abysmal adaptation of Harry Turtledove's Guns of the South, and of course, Strange Pictures and its spinoff Strange Writings, which both concern forbidden and lost media. 

I won't go into it here, but anyone that claims that the Patterson-Gimlin Footage is real, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, is trying to sell you bigfoot merch. That's not even going into the Damascus Phonograph, the Diary of Martha Packard, or the Werewolf of Warsaw. All fake. And yet we're called crazy.

What preferred "eye bleach" do you have after interacting with anomalous media?

It varies. I know Mr. Draper likes to watch commercials he helped produce, while one of our audio gurus, Squirrel, cleans out their ears with songs by Coheed and Cambria and I Fight Dragons. Personally, when I see something traumatic, I just put on a Marvel film or blast some Billy Joel.

What's the oldest piece of Media the Institute has investigated?

There was a purportedly cursed copy of the Ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead that was responsible for at least fifteen deaths since its discovery in the 1880s. Turns out it was just infested with mold. That's why we have a mycologist on staff.

If we're talking film, the Lumière film containing Le Chapeau is the oldest we know of. 

The History of Cardenio is one that keeps getting away from us. It's from 1613, written by William Shakespeare and John Fletcher, and has been lost for centuries. We're not sure if it's anomalous, but it's elusive. 

Pronouns?

Here's everyone who's comfortable sharing. 

Cecily: She/They

Squirrel (Audio Specialist): They/Them 

Mr. Draper: He/Him

Azula (Editing Guru): She/Her

Atticus (Mycologist): He/Him

Myself: As long as you don't call me "it", whatever is fine.

Face reveal?

Nah.

Make, model, and license plate of your car?

This was the weirdest of the "please dox yourself" questions and I'm honestly astounded by it. Do people think we're going to answer these?

Has anyone in the Institute ever died in the pursuit of their studies?

Yes.

In fact, a member of the Institute who will probably be dead before the end of the month has asked me to post his findings after he dies. But I'll need time to comb through his writing.

What's your story? How did you get involved with the Institute?

Another common question. One I think I'll answer next time.

The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 4

Previous: The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 3

 

So, America's Most Haunted. Those of you who are familiar with the 2017 reboot are probably aware of its various controversies-- how their episode on Lovecraft had them consult a scholar with ties to the KKK, how a member of their camera crew nearly died from the bends after their attempt at an underwater seance went awry, and how they attempted to fulfill a Make-A-Wish Foundation request posthumously by contacting the spirit of a deceased fan. Robin McGuire, the current showrunner, as well as host Xander Banks, have been raked over the coals by people far more erudite than I. We aren't here to discuss the current incarnation of AMH.

Instead, we're talking about the version of America's Most Haunted that aired from 2006 to 2011, hosted by and ran by Daniel Fox (B. 1980). Fox was a genuine paranormal researcher, a visionary, an accredited exorcist… and a member of the Institute. He specialized in media that recorded spiritual phenomena.


In 2011, the Nova Network had him film a series of episodes themed around "Ghosts of the Jersey Shore". It was a gimmick, to be sure; one proposed episode would have had them attempt to contact the spirit of a deceased mobster (later found to have faked his own death to hide in Italy). Another episode had Nicole "Snooki" LaVelle accompanying the crew as they filmed in the Resorts Casino Hotel in Atlantic City.


Fox was incredibly reluctant to film at the Lassiter; he had personally cataloged the Molnar footage back in 2000, and knew about the Videophobes within. On top of that, the hotel was suffering from black mold infestation, making it unsafe to be in without protective equipment. However, the Nova Network had already bought the rights to film in the hotel from Cape May's government, and they refused to let Fox back out.


Fox had access to the Institute's resources including its more esoteric implements. If he had to film the Lassiter, he was going to do it with our equipment. He was going to attempt to defuse the Lassiter.


Part 4: America's Most Haunted, Season 6, Episode 5, Grand Alexandria


Fox always preferred to record with commercially-available cameras-- specifically, they used Toshiba Camileo X200s (Toshiba was a sponsor of Nova Network in the late 2000s and early 2010s). It gave America's Most Haunted a distinctive look, compared to its contemporaries, even if the X200s had an abysmal 45-minute battery life; Fox was able to use batteries modified by members of the Institute to extend this to three hours. Fox wanted to encourage amateur paranormal investigators by using affordable equipment to record the show.


So it was understandably alarming to both the crew of AMH and Nova Network executives when he unveiled the cameras they were going to use in the Lassiter. High-end Canon Vixia HF200s, priced at almost $4000 at release. Indeed, the first thing we hear when Fox turns on the camera is:


"What the fuck, Dan?"


The woman speaking comes into view. Jasmine Sheridan, age 29, stares past the camera and at the man holding it, wind blowing auburn hair into her face. "Dan, does the network know you blew the budget on new cameras?"


"I didn't blow anything," Daniel explains, turning the camera to himself. They're outside in downtown Cape May, in a small shopping district. He's recording B-roll. "Friend loaned me this equipment."


"Same friend who keeps on sending you creepy video tapes?"


"Actually, yes." The camera is jostled as Fox inspects something on it. "Okay, good."


"Do I want to know what that is?" Jasmine has a wary note in her voice.


"Just a microphone."


"It looks like a goddamn grenade launcher."


"It's not." Fox resumes filming. "Come on, we have a meeting with the historical society in half an hour."


Fox continues to record b-roll, the attachment on his camera drawing odd looks from passersby. Eventually, they make their way into Cape May's historical society. The most relevant detail comes from a snippet of conversation between Fox and Joanna Michelson, head of the society.


"Do you believe it's haunted?" Fox asks.


"No, but I think it's cursed. Ricky Lassiter bought so many things from Egypt, one of the things he bought is bound to be cursed."


"Didn't he collect books?" Jasmine asks. "I've heard of cursed mummies, but I don't think some paper is going to cause too much harm."


"Do you know what happened to his collection?" Fox sits up a bit straighter.


"As far as I know, it got sold off in an estate sale. Don't know where it's ended up."


"Curious." Fox reclines in his seat, satisfied by the answer.

***

"Why does Dan have a grenade launcher on his camera?"


A few hours later, the crew of AMH convenes outside the hotel. Speaking now is Robin McGuire (yes, the same Robin McGuire acting as showrunner on the current iteration of AMH), whose eyes goggle at the camera.


"It's a microphone." Dan sighs. "Rob, you have the gear?"


"Right here h-- right here." You can tell that Robin has to catch himself from saying "hon". Though not known publicly at the time, McGuire and Fox were in a relationship, something that had to be kept off-camera. Fox describes their current relationship as "Someone made of salt trying to hug a person with open wounds for the better part of a decade."


Robin holds up respirators, full-body clean suits, and large, thick dowel rods pointed at one end. "What's with the sticks?" Robin asks.


"To make sure that the floor is safe to walk on. God knows what the mold's doing on the inside."


"He's got a point," Jasmine admits. "Give one to Monica, maybe she can use it for dowsing."


"That's not how that works and you know it!" The last member of the team, thirty-two-year-old spiritual medium Monica Morse, speaks from off-camera. She steps into view, face briefly hidden behind a set of beaded dreadlocks before she parts them, revealing an exasperated expression on her face. “Seriously, what’s with the new gear?”


“Friend loaned it to me. Network’s already cleared it for this one episode.” Paper is shuffled around. “Okay, yeah… from the top?”


From here, they start going through their lines, briefly explaining the history of the Grand Alexandria/Lassiter, including the disappearances, the propensity for recorded (or unrecordable) anomalies, and then, Fox says: “Anyone want to back out?”


There’s confusion among his crew; this isn’t part of the script. Robin shakes his head, while Jasmine says, “I haven't seen you this freaked since we investigated the McCormick house.”


“Yeah, well. Just avoid recording anything in the lobby, okay?”

***

Jasmine is left outside in the van to monitor the rest of the team. B-Roll is shot in the lobby, but the crew is silent until they leave it and proceed to the second floor. Fox turns the camera towards his crew; all of them are wearing respirators and coveralls. He presses down onto the floorboards, making sure they don’t give before stepping forward. “I know our usual MO is to split up,” he says, “But we can do that in post. Just make sure a couple of us stay off-camera at a time.”


“Christ, Dan.” Robin sighs. “What’s gotten into you? Lassiter had mob ties, the disappearances were probably just witnesses he needed to make vanish.”


(He’s not wrong; Richard Lassiter’s son was allegedly put into Witness Security after testifying against several members of the New Jersey mafia.)


"It's not that," Fox lies. "This place is infested with mold. I'd rather not have anyone fall through the floor and get hurt."


As if to demonstrate his point, the next several minutes of footage are spent maneuvering around a hole in the floor large enough to swallow any one of them. Eventually, they reach the first room they're intending to Investigate: Room 29.


"Okay. This room reportedly had more people die in it than anywhere else in the hotel." Fox's tone of voice changes as he slips into his "professional ghost hunter" mode. "Monica, are you sensing anything?"


(Room 29 is located directly below Room 38 from the Molnar footage, and should have been where Tiffany Molnar landed when she fell through the bed.)


"Hold on a sec." Monica sits in the center of the room, cross-legged as she focuses on a point in the middle distance. "Hard to concentrate with the damn mask on." She looks at Fox, "Will you watch where you're pointing that? It's breaking my concentration."


"It's just a microphone," Fox sighs. "Just tell me when you feel--"


A low, rumbling bellow suddenly permeates through the building. Morse stands abruptly. "What was that?"


"Sounded almost like something fell." Robin groans. "Are you kidding me? Does the Network's insurance even cover this?"


Jasmine's panicked voice comes over their radios. "Guys, what room are you in?"


"What?" Fox goes to the window of Room 28, shining a light down into the parking lot, illuminating the van. "Can you see us?"


"There is something else in there with you. It's on the fourth floor."


"Something else?" Robin grimaces. "What do you mean?"


"There was a massive fucking shadow on the building, bleeding through the windows!"


"Bleeding?” Fox asks. “Or running, like water?"


“Who cares?! Get out of there!”


“That’s not in the script,” Robin mutters. The camera turns to him. “What the fuck is happening? There’s nothing about shadows in the script. What the fuck?”


“Get out,” Fox says. “I need to take care of this.”


“Take care of-- Dan, is this some kind of joke?” Fox muscles past Robin and heads to the stairway. “Dan? Dan!”


“I’m coming with you.” Monica follows after Fox. He tries to protest, but she just gives him a steely look that says ‘I’m in this with you.’


“Monica, this isn’t a ghost,” he tries to explain. “It’s--”


“One of your side projects? I’m not stupid, Dan. I saw the footage you tried to hide from the Juniper Theater.”


“Then you know how dangerous this is.”


“And I also know that you’ve been trying to learn Greek for the last month for some reason. I know Greek! Let me help.”


“I--”


“Oh, mou éphayes ta aftiá.”(Translation: “You’re talking too much”.) Where are we headed?”


“Room 47, Fourth Floor.” The camera is jostled as Fox removes the attachment to it, and it’s here that we see it clearly for the first time. It does, indeed, look like the barrel of a grenade launcher, being a long and hollow-looking tube with what appears to be a stock attached to the end. “I need you to read something once we get up there.”


“Fourth floor? Where the shadows are?” Monica follows after him up the stairs.


“They’re not shadows.”

***

They pause when they reach the fourth floor so that Daniel can record something. Through the door, they see what appears to be water flooding the entire floor, constantly flowing out of Room 47, but never seeming to fill the room. “Hold onto something,” Daniel says as he opens the door.


Inexplicably, water does not come flowing out as the door opens, instead staying as a semi-liquid wall. Daniel prods it with the tube, and some of it appears to be sucked in. The same bellowing is heard once again. Fox opens the tube at one end and withdraws a folded piece of paper, handing it to Morse. “Can you read this?”


Morse takes it and scans the paper. “Yeah. Yeah, easy enough. What do you want me to do with it?”


“Say it out loud as we walk through. It should protect us.”


They begin wading through chest-high water. Monica begins chanting, in Greek: “Chaíre paníschyre Tyfón, férnontas tou télous, theoktoní, vasiliá ton kataigídon Chaíre ekeínon pou eínai thamménos káto apó to Sfyrílato tou Ifaístou, anávontas ti flóga tou. Dóxa ston Tyfón[indistinct]”(Translation: “Hail mighty Typhon, bringer of the end, god-slayer, king of storms Hail he who is buried beneath the Forge of Hephaestus, kindling its flame. Glory to Typhon”). The chant continues as they make their way to Room 47, water being siphoned into the tube. “Dan, what’s in that?”


“Long story, keep chanting!” They make their way into Room 47, and find themselves facing an aperture with a mirror-like texture. Steam is emerging from it, and the water around it is seething; this only increases in intensity as the camera turns on it.


“Dan, what the fuck--” Morse begins.


“It’s real.” Fox laughs. “Holy shit, it’s an actual portal to the Bibliotheke. If only I could… no, bad idea.” Fox hands the camera off to Morse. “Keep it up with the chant, I need to make sure that this gets recorded.”


“O-okay.” Monica’s hands shake slightly as she holds the camera. “It’s cold…”


Fox opens the tube, revealing a piece of papyrus within; water is drawn up towards it as he unravels it. “Typhon!” He yells. “I am a librarian, a keeper of knowledge! Thy tale has been let loose on this world unjustly! I know your pain, and I know what you are trying to hold back! Come forth! Come home!”


The water is drawn towards the papyrus, little by little, and the paper sucks it up like a sponge, but seems to be undamaged. “That’s good,” Fox grins. “Come home, Typhon, come home.”


Morse focuses the camera on the parchment. “Dan, what the hell is happening?”


“I’m just putting a story back where it belongs.”


Over the course of five minutes, all of the water on the fourth floor is drawn into the parchment. The portal that Fox observed closes as the water retreats, and by the time the water is around his ankles, it’s almost completely closed.


And then, disaster strikes.


A gout of flame emerges from the portal, hitting Fox in the face. He falls in the water face-first, and it’s thankfully extinguished, but not before the left side of his face is burned. Skin has already started to slough off from the heat, and Monica screams for Dan to wake up. The portal is still open, ever so slightly, and flame is coming from it, boiling off the remaining water in the room.


“Dan, we have to go.” She starts dragging him out of the room as it begins to burn. “Dan, come on, wake up. Dan!” She focuses the camera on his face--


And it’s at this point, for approximately sixty seconds, that the footage becomes unsafe to watch. While no fatalities have been attributed to this part of the Lassiter Hotel Footage, first-degree burns have been reported, as well as paper and other flammable objects, such as clothing and paper, spontaneously combusting in its vicinity.


The moment passes as we see Monica take up the scroll. The water has almost completely vaporized, leaving clouds of steam in its wake. “--get out of here,” Fox is heard panting. “The scroll, what does it say?”


Monica begins to read it. “It’s… it’s something about the myth of… Dan, what the fuck is--”


“What does it say? Does it say where it belongs?”


Monica looks over the papyrus. “...Uh. First floor atrium, Bibliotheke.”


Fox is heard sighing, and then groaning in relief. “We have to get out of here. Now.”


“Your face--” Monica tries to turn the camera to him.


“Don’t! I’m… it’s not safe anymore. Please.”


Fox’s hand obscures the camera. At this point in the recording, there is a surge of heat, and then, the recording ends.


Supplemental


Humans can become Videophobic anomalies as well.


Due to his injuries sustained in the Lassiter Hotel, Daniel Fox’s face is actively unsafe to record. Physical photographs of him burn upon development, digital photography can cause devices to overheat and brick themselves. This effect is lessened if his face is at least partially obscured; he’s been wearing a face mask continually since 2011 to alleviate the effect.


America’s Most Haunted was canceled due to ‘catastrophic injuries’ sustained during the expedition into the Lassiter. The footage was intended to be destroyed, but as is often the case with anomalous media, the film was braced and, for all intents and purposes, indestructible. Fox sued Nova Network for damages, alleging that the network knew the Lassiter was unsafe to film in, but he was forced to do it by their contract. They settled out of court for a handsome sum, and Fox was able to obtain the footage.


The Lassiter itself was destroyed in 2012 by Hurricane Sandy; the rotting structure crumbled under the storm surge. In its place, a small shopping center was built, and to date, no further anomalies have been reported-- except for the fact that the shopping center spends an inordinate amount of money on mold removal.


The papyrus that Fox contained the entity in is still in the possession of the Institute. As previously stated, it is a piece of the Greek Magical Papyri, dedicated to the myth of Typhon; however, in contrast to typical depictions of the entity, Typhon is portrayed as an embodiment of the ocean itself, living water, a flood meant to drown Olympus itself. It is an unorthodox portrayal, but a valuable one, and it is one of the oldest examples of a braced piece of media we possess.


The entity which inhabited the Lassiter has been absorbed by the Papyrus, and is, for the Institute’s purposes, neutralized. However, the document itself can’t be stored conventionally; our archivists have had to use an aquarium to contain it, due to the sheer amount of water it produces. Thankfully, it hasn’t outgrown the ten-gallon tank we use.


None of the disappearances at the Lassiter have been solved, and I doubt they ever will be. That said, some… odd news has come about since my last entry, one that I had to revise this piece to accommodate.


After reading the description of the Molnar footage, a woman from Akron, Ohio reached out to me. She claims that she has been having dreams about events that roughly correspond to the Molnar footage since she was eight years old and adopted by her foster family, who found her at the side of the road, wearing pajamas and begging for her mother. Having talked with her over Zoom, she does bear a striking resemblance to Tiffany Molnar’s age-progression photos. She has sent away her DNA for testing at a lab with ties to the Institute.


And at the end of the day? None of this makes any fucking sense.


New Jersey has come up a few times over the course of what I’ve shared on this blog. We originally thought that the Lassiter was a locus point for it, a sort of magnet for strange occurrences or maybe even a gathering place for anomalous entities. But the Lassiter was destroyed, the primary entity within it contained, and yet there are still dozens of pieces of Forbidden Media connected to New Jersey.


The Papyrus had no ties to Ohio, so how on earth did she end up there in 1998? If this woman is Tiffany Molnar, how did she end up there? And what force made it impossible to record people within the Lassiter’s Lobby?


There are few things that keep me up at night. The Lassiter is one of them. If anyone has any information about this place, I beg you, reach out, tell us something. Anything.


For the time being… The Institute’s head is advising me to take a break, reconnect with my family. It is almost Thanksgiving, after all. I’ll see you on the other side.

The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 3

 Previous Entry: The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 2

 

On June 3rd, 1996, the Molnar family checked into the Lassiter Hotel. Julia Molnar (41) had booked the trip as a surprise for her husband Edgar (40) and their daughter Tiffany (6). They were informed of the "no photography" policy, and were shown to Room 38, a double queen room. Their week was pleasant and largely uneventful, though Julia did complain that she was having strange dreams in a phone call to her mother on the 6th.


On June 10th, the Molnars missed check-out time. When members of hotel security were dispatched to their room, they found it vacant, with their luggage still present, their beds unmade, and the television turned on to the local NBC affiliate.


After the room was searched, they discovered a lump in one of the mattresses. Cutting it open, hotel security discovered a Sony CCD-TR500 Hi8 camcorder, heavily waterlogged to the point where it was unusable.


The tape within was intact.


Part 3: The Molnar Footage (1996)


The Molnar Footage refers to the final 17:28 of the VHS tape; prior to this, footage shows the Molnar family enjoying their vacation, visiting Wildwood and the Cape May Zoo, taking part in a whale-watching cruise, and enjoying time on the beach.


The footage starts in Room 38. Edgar is filming, even though his wife pleads for him to stop. "It's our last night here! What are they going to do, kick us out for filming in our own room?"


"They said no filming, Ed! I don't want Tiffany's first vacation to end with her seeing us get sued."


"But you already have suits!" Tiffany giggles. She's over on her own bed, bouncing up and down, trying to touch the ceiling.


"I just want to get a shot of the ocean from our room, then the camera gets put away. All right?"


Julia relents, and Edgar goes over to the window recording three minutes of the beach and the Atlantic as viewed from the Lassiter. He turns the camera around just in time to catch his daughter landing on the bed. She gives him a gap-toothed grin.


And then, she begins falling through the bed. Tiffany screams with glee as she's sucked through the bed, and her parents scream as they're faced with an inexplicable void dragging their daughter into it.


Edgar leaps in after her, camera in hand, and yells at Julie to call 9-1-1 before he lands elsewhere.


It's dark where he lands. He picks up the camera, and turns on the infrared view, allowing him to see. The footage appears to show another hotel room, vacant; there is no sign of Tiffany, nor are there any windows. The television is playing static.


He calls for his daughter, but receives no answer. After a moment, the camera spins around, revealing the door to the room swinging ajar. Garbled speech is heard, before Edgar bursts into the hallway.


What he finds himself in is not the Lassiter Hotel. The structure is dark with a high ceiling, and seems to be made of sandstone. There are signs of the space having been recently burned; scorch marks are plainly visible, and ash is falling from above, settling into piles around the structure. “Tiffany!” He calls out again, voice strained.


He hears a response this time, and for a moment, the camera films the ground, swinging back and forth as he runs, calling her name. “Tiffany!” He yells. “Daddy’s here! Keep calling for me!”


The scene transitions from an ash-covered structure to one that is inundated. He stops, confused as his feet grow wet, and he aims the camera upwards, showing he’s now in some form of courtyard with a pair of shallow pools down the middle. There is a figure laying by one of the pools; as Edgar approaches, it becomes clear that it's the skeleton of an adult, wearing a high-visibility safety vest, thick gloves, and a hard hat.


Edgar calls for his daughter again, and hears her scream; not in pain or terror, but in delight. Edgar's camera swivels up to see her bouncing up and down in a doorway across from Edgar, seemingly unharmed. He approaches her, and picks her up, dropping the camera.


It is now he must realize that he has no idea how to return to his hotel room. He calls for his wife, but is met with silence. He curses and screams, before he's seen picking up his daughter and vanishing into the complex.


After two minutes, the camera is picked up by a new, unseen entity. It glides across the ground, and briefly what appears to be writing is visible, the word "ΒΙΒΛΙΟΘΗΚΗ" (“bibliotheke”, Greek for “library”), carved into the stone.


The entity finds Edgar carrying his daughter in an area that resembles the space he entered. He is inspecting a wall when his daughter points at the camera. Edgar tries to scream upon seeing it, but instead finds water flowing from first his mouth, then his nose, then from everywhere else. The man is lost under a flood, and his daughter is swept away by the current, squealing with glee.


The camera turns to her, and a limb made of liquid picks her up. She laughs, and then after a splash, falls silent.



Supplemental:


Those of you who are into true crime are probably familiar with the name Tiffany Molnar, as she is a perennial subject of age progression photography. She would be thirty-two years old this year. An incisor was found under the pillow in her bed, and the DNA from that tooth has been compared to dozens of female cadavers over the years. To date, no match has been found.


This is the best-known instance of the Lassiter Hotel footage, but it is often scrutinized, due to its prominence. Strange Pictures and several other programs have attempted to analyze it for signs of doctoring or special effects, despite the fact that analysis of the film has shown evidence of no tampering other than Bracing.


A 9-1-1 call was placed from the Lassiter by an unidentified woman, believed to be Julia Molnar; a transcript is included below.


Dispatch: 9-1-1, do you need police, ambulance or--


Caller: My daughter! My daughter and my husband, they fell!


Dispatch: They fell? Ma'am, do you need an ambulance?


Caller: They fell through the bed! But I'm sitting on it, and there's nothing there!


Dispatch: Ma'am, where are you?


Caller: The Grand Al-- hold on, someone's at the door. Ed?


Twenty seconds of silence.


Caller: No, we didn't know.


Ten seconds of silence.


Caller: We didn't know it hurt!


The Lassiter Hotel appears to host multiple entities, or multiple manifestations of the same entity, that are averse to being recorded on video. The Institute has encountered several of these entities in the past; the general term for them is “Videophobe”. The Videophobic entities appear to reside in an extradimensional space connected to the Lassiter, possibly created by an item possessed by Richard Lassiter, the Typhon Papyrus mentioned in the previous article.


This item vanished in 1996.


Even so, the Lassiter was a perfectly safe hotel to stay in, provided no recording occurred; “was” being the operative word. After the disappearance of the Molnar family, the Lassiter was closed down permanently; too many tragedies had occurred in the hotel. It remains standing, despite efforts of the Cape May government to tear it down. Because of this, it was thought to be prime territory for a 2011 episode of the third-most popular ghost hunting show in the USA and Nova Network’s highest-rated show at the time, America’s Most Haunted.


Next week, we will be discussing exactly what happened on the set of AMH, and uncovering the footage that caused Nova Network to cancel the show for almost half a decade.

Next Entry: The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 4

The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 2

 Previous Entry: The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 1

 

This write-up deals with the aftermath of a hurricane. Due to the extensive damage caused by Hurricane Ian, I’m putting up a content warning here, in case anyone who was affected reads this blog. Furthermore, if you want to help out with the very real damage caused by Ian, you can find reputable organizations on Charity Navigator’s Hurricane Ian page linked below.


https://www.charitynavigator.org/index.cfm?bay=content.view&cpid=9967


In 1945, World War II veteran and aspiring novelist Richard Lassiter inherited a hotel in Cape May from his father. It had fallen into disrepair during the Great Depression, and Richard was tasked with revitalizing it by his father. Over the years, it has had many names; in the 1920s, it was the Grand Cape Hotel, while from the 1940s to the 1990s, it was known as the Grand Alexandria Hotel. Various investigative bodies, including the Institute, refer to it as the Lassiter for the sake of consistency.


The Lassiter had no record of unusual phenomena prior to the incidents in 1958; however, local legend maintained that Room 47 had a higher than normal incidence of guests checking out early, or else dying in their sleep. These myths appear to have originated after the 2011 America's Most Haunted episode, which I will be covering in a later installment. By all accounts, Room 47 was a normal hotel room, provided it was not being recorded, hence the ban on cameras.


The Lassiter's "no camera" policy was maintained under threat of legal action for twenty-seven years, until Hurricane Gloria rolled in.


Part 2: The Eakin Insurance Footage (1985)


Hurricane Gloria was a Category 4 Hurricane that tore across the mid-Atlantic coast of the United States. While it did not make landfall in Cape May, the storm surge and resulting damage, including from loss of power and infrastructure, resulted in fourteen deaths. It was hailed as a storm of the century, but people at the time were actually disappointed by how little damage was caused.


The storm surge flooded Cape May with almost six feet of water, inundating several properties, including the Lassiter. While logically, the damage should have been confined to the first floor (particularly the lobby and pool areas), damage was observed as high as the fifth floor, including the elevator shafts. When Richard Lassiter attempted to file an insurance claim with the Eakin Insurance Group-- a New Jersey-based agency that specialized in insuring hotels-- they were told that an inspection had to be done to assess the damage. To this end, they dispatched a pair of investigators-- Kenneth Kosa, age 50, and William Duffield, age 32. Between them, they had over thirty years of investigative experience at Eakin and other insurance companies.


Going against both hotel policy and Richard Lassiter's insistence, they brought along a Super 8 camera, and approximately eight hours worth of film, not knowing that they would be dooming themselves in the process.

An aerial view of the storm surge caused by Hurricane Gloria, taken by the US Coast Guard.

***

The Lobby


In the twenty-seven years since the failed advertisement, the Lassiter's lobby has changed very little. In color, we can see the polished sandstone and marble far more clearly. We can also see ruined rugs, plants that have been knocked over, and even a painting, damaged by the storm surge. Special attention is drawn to the painting, and the place where it rested on the wall, with the hook it hung on eight feet off the ground.


"What do you make of that?" Kosa asks.


"Maybe a wave brought it down?" Duffield responds. He focuses the camera on the painting itself; it was a three-foot-long landscape painting showing Cape May's iconic lighthouse during a stormy night. It's been ruined, though not by water damage: the canvas is visibly torn and crumpled, and the frame has been splintered. "Looks like it got stepped on," Duffield observes.


"By who? Andre the Giant?" Kosa laughs.


The camera heads behind the check-in desk. Room keys are strewn all over the floor; in contrast to other hotels at the time, the Lassiter used traditional, toothed keys, but had recently purchased equipment for making mag-stripe key cards. The device is in pieces behind the desk, and shows evidence of having caught fire. "Get the serial number off of that," Kosa instructs.


Duffield sets the camera on the check-in desk; neither of the men are visible. The front door of the Lassiter blows open, scattering debris. The men are heard cursing. The camera records the debris hitting an invisible mass on one side of the room, where it is outlined by its absence; the area of the lobby the mass occupies is free of debris and water damage.


The men do not seem to notice the anomaly, and instead collect the camera, making their way to the pool.


The Pool


By 1985, The Lassiter Hotel's swimming pool had been remodeled twice, closing for the 1972 season to expand its glass enclosure to the fourth floor. As stated previously, the majority of the damage caused by Hurricane Gloria in Cape May was from the storm surge, with the wind speed reaching only 85 mph.


This raised the question: why was the enclosure so damaged? Over half of the planes of glass had broken inward. The pool is overflowing, filled with dirty water.


"The hell? Why didn't they drain it after the surge?" Duffield asks.


"Watch your step," Kosa says, stepping in front of the camera for the first time. He's a pale, portly man, wearing safety equipment-- thick gloves, a reflective vest, and a hard hat, among other things. At his hip is a Polaroid camera, which he pulls out to photograph the devastation. "Does that frame look bent to you?"


Duffield points the camera upwards; there is a visible dent in the frame, as if something heavy has made impact, about twenty feet off the ground. "Andre the Giant, you think?"


"Nah. Probably buckled from something hitting it. When did this place last get inspected?"


"December."


"They must've missed it. Pretty high up…"


(They did not, in fact, miss it. The glass enclosure was one of the more thoroughly-inspected parts of the hotel, with both the panes and the frame being examined for damage on a weekly basis by hotel staff; the inspection Duffield is referring to was performed by Cape May's building inspector and similarly found no issues.)


"At least we know he wasn't lying about the damage. Jesus." Duffield steps before the camera now, revealing a thin man with dark skin, clad in the same safety gear as Kosa. He begins unrolling a tape measure. "Ken, little help? I need to see how far the debris spreads."


Kosa takes the other end, and some measurements are taken. Duffield writes in a notebook. "That's funny."


"What?" Kosa asks, lighting a cigarette.


"Do you see any glass in the pool?"


"With how murky it is? The Hope Diamond could be down there and we wouldn't see it."


"Huh."


At some point, Duffield takes the camera and records the pool itseld. The water is a sickly greenish-grey color. Kosa discards his cigarette into the pool; the liquid parts, and it's dragged beneath.


The Second Floor


"What the fuck happened in here?"


Kosa asks the question as they enter room 29. The interior is completely trashed, with beds overturned, the television smashed, and a white substance caked on the ceiling.


Duffield grabs a chair and stands on it to scrape some of the substance off. He smells it, grimacing. "It's shampoo."


"You see any water damage in here?"


"None."


"Seems to me like guests trashed the room and they're trying to staple it onto the claim." Kosa sighs. "What can ya see from the window?"


Duffield heads over to the room's far wall. "Pretty good view of the damage to the pool."


And so, Kosa and Duffield get thirty seconds of footage of the pool's enclosure from a higher, exterior angle. Kosa mutters "We're burning film, c'mon," before he turns the camera away.


Neither of them noticed the pool, clearly visible through the shattered enclosure, was empty.


The Elevator Shaft


Thankfully, Kosa and Duffield don't record in Room 47. They do, however, attempt to open the elevator shaft on the fourth floor. "The hell's wrong here?"


"Apparently the elevator's not going past the third floor. Cables nearly snapped when they tried to call it up here." He produces a small, round key meant to open the doors of an elevator in an emergency and sticks it in the panel, under the call button. It turns, and the doors grind open.


There is a hole in the far side of the elevator shaft, as if something has burst through from the other side. There's nothing but darkness visible on the camera.


"It looks like something punched through," Kosa observes. "Shine a light in there, Bill."


Duffield turns on a light. Through the aperture, a hotel room is clearly visible; the pink and white hues of the Venus Suite, AKA Room 42. "Why the hell would they build a room right next to the elevator shaft?"


(They didn't. Testimony from former staff at the Lassiter, combined with the blueprints, show a maintenance closet being behind the elevator shaft on the fourth floor.)


There's no sign of disturbance in the Venus Suite, beyond the massive hole. "Hello?" Duffield calls.


"The fuck are you doing?" Kosa hisses.


"Thought I saw something move in the room." There is no movement on the camera. "That's weird, right?"


"Let's get the fifth floor and get out of here." Kosa withdraws the key and the elevator doors shut.


Duffield collects the camera, carrying it under his arm, lens facing the elevator. Water begins seeping out through the door; Duffield curses as he realizes the camera is still on, and the footage cuts out.


The Fifth Floor


The camera is turned on within Room 501, the Owner's Suite. As the name suggests, the suite is specifically reserved for Richard Lassiter and his family. The suite takes up a quarter of the floor, far larger than any other room in the hotel. Duffield is on camera, clearly baffled. The room is pristine. "What are we looking for here? This place is spotless."


"According to the claimant, something got stolen from here during the storm surge."


"Christ. Talk to the cops, not us."


"He says he did. Apparently the item stolen was…" Kosa checks his notes. "A 'Greek manuscript, approximately two… two-thousand years old'? Shouldn't that be in a museum?"


"What is it, then? Dante?"


"The title is… damn, his handwriting is shit. Thy… Typh… Typhoid? Typhoon? Yeah, Typhoon."


"Didn't think Athens got many hurricanes." Duffield chuckles. "Well, where was it supposed to be?"


"In the safe behind his desk."


The footage cuts to a study area with a desk in disarray. Duffield is heard speaking mid-sentence. "--saying is, it's weird he reported a missing book, but not the water damage up here."


"Probably not a book. Maybe a hunk of stone or--" Kosa walks onto the camera, eyes glued to the ceiling. "Or a scroll."


The camera turns upwards to where Kosa is looking. Inexplicably, a large scroll of parchment is stuck to the ceiling. Kosa takes off his glove and swats at it. It falls to the ground.


"Huh. Well, glad we found it." Kosa chuckles. "This was insured for almost ten mill." He places it on the desk.


There's a crash from the next room, followed by the sound of flowing water. Duffield curses, picking up the camera. Water is flowing from the ceiling, blocking access to the suite's exit. "When did-- what the--"


Kosa, trembling, comes onto camera and picks up an object floating in the water. He holds it up to Duffield; it's a cigarette.


Then, a wave washes over them, tearing the camera out of Duffield's grasp. The men scream as the sound of running water overtakes the audio. Eventually, there is a gargantuan thud, causing the camera to jump in the air. It breaks upon landing.


Supplemental


Neither William Duffield nor Kenneth Kosa were ever seen again. Their vehicle was found in the Lassiter's parking lot three days later by Cape May Police; none of their equipment, including the Super 8 camera used, was recovered at the time.


The Lassiter had to be closed until 1990, due to severe water damage and further mold infestation. During this time, the pool was filled with concrete and the glass structure demolished completely; they turned it into outdoor patio seating for a second restaurant that was opened in the hotel.


The scroll that Kosa was inspecting was later found in Richard Lassiter's safe. The manuscript is, in fact, one of a series of scrolls known as the Greek Magical Papyri, and is dedicated to retelling the myth of Typhon, a colossal entity in Greek mythology associated with storms.


The camera was found six years later on a beach in Wildwood, a resort town to the north of Cape May. The film within was practically untouched; this is a phenomenon commonly seen when inexplicable activity is recorded, where the medium that documents it is rendered unnaturally hardy. The Institute calls this “Bracing”. The Institute obtained the footage in 2007.


Richard Lassiter died in 1992; by this time, the hotel had severe financial difficulties, leading his son, Alexander Lassiter, to take drastic measures so that the hotel could stay in the family. Starting in the 1993 season, children would be allowed to stay in the Lassiter Hotel.

In 1996, this would lead to tragedy, and the permanent closing of the Lassiter Hotel.

The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 1

A still from the attempt to record footage in the Lobby of the Lassiter, 1958.

 

Original Essay by Tristan Marshall, Forbidden Media Investigator

Some people who have been following this blog have been curious about a particular item that’s been mentioned twice before, that being the Lassiter Hotel Footage. Some of you may be familiar with it from clips played on shows such as America's Most Haunted or Strange Pictures. The Lassiter Hotel Footage most people are familiar with comes from June 1996; however, it is only one of four collections of footage documenting anomalous activity within the area. Over the course of this month, I'll be taking you through each of the four instances of the Lassiter Hotel Footage.


Part 1: The Advertisement (1958)


The Lassiter was a luxury hotel located in Cape May, New Jersey, less than half a mile from the shoreline. It advertised itself as being classier than the motels in nearby Wildwood; it was said that if you wanted to have a trip, you booked a motel, but if you wanted a vacation, you stayed at the Lassiter. It had a Michelin-starred restaurant, two bars, a salinated swimming pool in a two-story glass enclosure, a rooftop garden, polished sandstone as far as the eye could see, and--perhaps its most attractive feature-- a "no child" policy. With very few exceptions, nobody under the age of 21 was allowed to stay in the Lassiter, a policy that would remain in place from its opening in 1946 all the way until 1993. It was a favorite of amateur ornithologists, due to the fact that Cape May is home to a wildlife refuge that attracts rare birds, some of which would roost in the rooftop garden.


In 1958, the Lassiter attempted to film a series of commercials to appeal to suburban, middle-class homeowners who didn't have children, or just wanted to get away from their kids; the nuclear family wasn't for everyone, and with the baby boomers turning increasingly rebellious as they became teenagers, there was an appeal in leaving the kids with grandma and having a week to yourself on the beach.


The filming didn't go as planned, and the project was scrapped in favor of radio advertisements, which re-used audio tracks intended for the commercials. Even then, the commercials didn't air until the 1960 tourist season due to the damage caused during filming.


Three major incidents occurred during the attempted filming. One in the lobby, one on the rooftop garden, and one in the infamous Room 47, which is where the 2011 footage shot by America's Most Haunted concluded.


The Lobby Incident


The shot of the lobby was meant to capture an average day at the hotel, guests checking in and out, people arriving and leaving for the day. Cameras were set up to record in the morning, and guests were asked to sign waivers for use of their likenesses, something that wasn't standard in hotel contracts at the time. Everyone was informed that cameras would begin rolling at check-in time, which was 12:00, earlier than any hotel in the area.


When the cameras rolled… nothing happened. It's not that they didn't record footage, but nobody came into the lobby from either the rooms or the outside. This was in the middle of peak season, and they had at least a dozen arrivals that day, but nobody showed up.


The instant the cameras turned off, someone came in the front door to check in, and two other groups checked out. By the time the cameras were rolling again, the lobby was empty, and it stayed empty as long as they tried to record. The director, a local named Samuel Renard, said it best: "It's uncanny."


There's no obvious distortion or anomaly, but one of the cameras was filming the reception desk. For some reason, the entire time the cameras rolled, no clerks were at the desk, despite them being told that no breaks were allowed while filming was ongoing.


There are certain areas of reality averse to being filmed or photographed, such as the Great Dismal Swamp Anomaly or Oxford's so-called "third tower". This is one of the only times the Institute has seen a space that makes people averse to being recorded.


The Garden Incident


The rooftop garden was tall enough to have a view of the entire Cape May shoreline, with foliage strategically placed in such a way that it blocked out the more urban and New Jersey-like parts of the city from view. To a black-and-white camera, most of the plants even look real.


There is no obvious anomaly on the rooftop itself; the footage shows people sunbathing, a few even waving to the camera. Things go wrong as the camera tries to get a panoramic view of Cape May.


As the camera turns to face the Atlantic, the film shows signs of heavy degradation. The audio track records a male scream, along with a “Holy sh--” before the camera inexplicably shows a view of the Lassiter’s roof. The film crew looks up at the camera directly, stunned. It hovers in place, before falling to the ground six storeys below, spinning four times as it drops. When it faces the sky, a shadowy shape is visible, towering over the Lassiter and blotting out the sun.


Just before the camera lands, its momentum is arrested, and it’s placed upright. People run out of the hotel to recover the camera, clearly confused. Pedestrians walk by, seemingly ignorant of what just happened. Through the glass doors of the lobby, a figure wearing a boater hat is visible.


The Room 47 Incident


Room 47 of the Lassiter was one of eight luxury suites in the Lassiter, each named after one of the other eight planets at the time; To be specific, this room was known as the Neptune Suite. It’s twice the size of a standard room, has two bedrooms, a kitchenette, a much larger bathroom, and a private balcony, and is decorated with a prevalent nautical theme. The crew had intended to film an average day in the suite, hiring a pair of actors to pretend they were on a relaxing vacation… but something went wrong.


The actors-- a blonde woman and a brunette man, both white-- enter the room and mime going through the process of unpacking; as they do, the camera lingers on a corner of the room right by the door. While the corner is in focus, something appears there. It's an oval shape with a mirror-like texture and indistinct edges, showing only darkness. It's present in the corner in subsequent shots, but not focused on in any way.


The actors were eventually directed to change into bedclothes and pretend to sleep, with the shades drawn over the windows to simulate low light. But in that darkness, the oval anomaly seems to glow.


And then, slowly, a limb emerges from the aperture, as glossy and dark as the mirrored surface it emerged from. As it does, someone is heard asking, "Does anyone else smell that?"


Then, someone else: "The camera's on fire!"


The being fully emerges from the aperture just as the camera is destroyed by fire. One of the actors screams as she sets eyes on it.


Supplemental


The fire that resulted from passively recording the anomaly in Room 47 resulted in over $50,000 in damage to the Lassiter, though there were no reported deaths. After the blaze was extinguished, the hotel had to be closed for repairs and inspection; during this time, a large amount of mold was discovered throughout the hotel, necessitating a complete remodel.


The Neptune Suite was inspected and re-opened after nothing was found amiss within. Until 1985, the Lassiter put a notice everywhere they could-- on the front door, in the pool, the lobby, the rooms, everywhere.


"For the purposes of protecting the architectural integrity and uniqueness of the Lassiter Hotel, we ask that guests refrain from photography within the building, including the rooftop garden. Thank you for understanding."

 

Next Entry: The Lassiter Hotel Footage, Part 2