Nic: From Pacific Northwest Stories and Minnow Beats Whale, it's Tanis. I'm Nic Silver. We're telling the story of Tanis in order, every two weeks. So if you're new to Tanis, you should go back and start at the beginning. We'll try not to get too far ahead by the time you get back.
Last week I mentioned that I was interested in looking at Tanis from another angle. Up to this point the question I've been asking has been "Where is Tanis?" Perhaps in light of recent events, the more important question might be "What is Tanis?"
Nic: The following is an excerpt from the hypnosis recording session that followed.
Nic: I'm sure by now you're wondering if my stance on hypnosis is changed. Well, I'm not sure. I've studied the recordings I've made of my sessions so far, although there's more detail than I remember on the surface, we're still moving through a time period that I can recall pretty well on my own, I am wondering what's gonna happen when we get to the cabin, when we reach the point where my memories end.
When I'm under hypnosis, if I'm actually under hypnosis, I feel like myself but it's kind of like a waking dream, an overwhelming sense of having no inhibitions. It's interesting, I thought that I'd hate it, but I find that I look forward to it. Almost like a massage or a meditation session. I wonder if I'll feel the same way if and when we get to what happened inside that cabin.
At first, the police were focused on me as the sole person of interest in the disappearance of Sam and Tara Reynolds. However, a few days after I was pulled out of the cabin the questions just stopped. Since then I've called the local police a few times for updates on Sam, but nobody's been willing to return my calls. I went down there to ask them in person, and all I was able to get from the desk sergeant was a gruff and cursory, "We're still looking. Are you a family member?" When I told her I wasn't related to Sam, that was the end of that.
Cameron Ellis brought me into a secure room, no cell reception, nothing out nothing in, to watch the video of the allegedly disappearing cabin. I say allegedly because frankly the video looks fake to me. I suggested to cameron Ellis that maybe the cabin was still there and he was just trying to throw me off the scent. He denied it and I don't think he's lying. But still, I just can't buy that video. I mean, I suppose it could be real. What would a disappearing cabin look like if not like the Hollywood version of a disappearing cabin, I suppose.
I asked my friend Alex Reagan what question she would most like answered after listening to episode 201 of Tanis.
Nic: Alex echoed something that I'd been thinking about a lot lately: Nathaniel Carter. How does Nathaniel Carter fit into all of this? I suspected he was the key to unlocking at least part of this mystery, probably a big part. His name just kept coming up. I needed to find out everything I could about Nathaniel Carter. But first, Meerkatnip called with an update.
Nic: MK read pretty much everything she sent in her email, aside from some weird numbers and letters that were included in the first message. I'll upload those to the notes section of our website. There was something I forgot to ask, so I called her right back.
Nic: So while Meerkatnip was looking into that weird recording, I asked Cameron Ellis about the disturbing videos Meerkatnip had sent me earlier.
Nic: Once again, Cameron Ellis took me into his research area. This time, however, he cleared everyone out. And we he and I were left alone, he used a high tech keypad to access a door that led into a long narrow corridor. We walked for a long time until we entered what appeared to be another facility connected to TeslaNova. We had to be deep underground at this point.
Ellis must have somehow given the word to evacuate or clear this area as well, because as we continued to move forward through a maze of doors and corridors, there was nobody around. We finally entered what appeared to be a kind of small lobby in yet another section of the TeslaNova underground labyrinth. Here, two guards stood to attention as we entered. They each placed key cards into a sophisticated security panel and yet another door opened. Cameron Ellis turned and motioned for me to enter. Apparently, we'd arrived at our destination.
We entered a long glass corridor that wrapped around a cell of some kind. In the cell was what appeared to be a man. He had dark hair. He was facing away from the glass, wrapped in a dark blue blanket.
Nic: I'm going to describe what happened while Marcus was speaking to us, but if you're squeamish in any way, you might wanna skip ahead a few seconds. After telling us "We're not going to need this where we're going," Marcus dug his fingers into his chest. Blood poured from the wound as he peeled back a window of pulpy flesh. He was smiling, clearly feeling absolutely no pain.
Cameron pushed an alarm but Marcus continued to dig, telling us we'd be reborn and reforged without skin or flesh, a large flap of thick bloody skin and meat hung from his chest, ribs visible, his pumping heart visible. Two medical security personnel arrived seemingly out of nowhere and began the process of entering Marcus's cell, each donning some kind of hazmat suit and then typing in a security code.
While they hurried to get in, Marcus peeled more flesh from his body and wiped his bloody hand against the window, painting a kind of arcane symbol and laughing the entire time. He snarled and lunged at the medics as they entered his cell. At this point, Cameron Ellis led me away from the area. Marcus continued screaming at us as we moved away down the hall.
Nic: I left TeslaNova in a daze. Cameron Ellis was creepy and cryptic as usual, he promised he'd tell me more about what was happening but that he wanted some time to look into a few things. I made him agree to meet with me again before the end of the week. It was while I was waiting to hear back from Cameron Ellis that I received a call from a fairly new friend.
Nic: I opened the envelope. There were two pages. One was a typed letter, the other a photocopy of a second letter, also typed. The first letter was undated and addressed to Carl. The photocopied letter wasn't addressed to anyone in particular, but it was dated August 9th, 2001. At the bottom of the photocopied page, in ink, somebody had written the words "Levity Elks." L-E-V-I-T-Y E-L-K-S. It looked like these things were Tanis related. I've asked Alex Reagan to read both letters. This is letter number one, the letter addressed to Carl.
Nic: Carl van Sant's letters were strange. Disturbing. I asked Geoff if he'd be comfortable with me renewing his brother's mailbox, he said that would be fine. I asked Meerkatnip to look into the contents of both letters and that name, Levity Elks. There was nothing online but as you know, MK is extremely resourceful.
Nic: MK sent me a huge pile of information on Lyle Stevik. I'm gonna do my best to condense that stuff in a way that makes sense.
After the events of September 11th 2001, 3,000 miles away in a beautiful gloomy section of the Olympic Peninsula in a town called Amanda Park, a woman named Barbara, who the locals referred to lovingly as Aunt Barb, gave Lyle Stevik the key to room 8, an annexed room close to the trailer park that buttressed the property. He paid in cash. About an hour later, Lyle returned to the front desk and asked to change rooms. He claimed that noise from the trailer park was disturbing him. Aunt Barb mentioned later that the second time she spoke with Lyle Stevik, when he asked to switch rooms, he was nervous, twitchy. She said that he avoided eye contact. He gave her the creeps. She handed him the key to room 5. He seemed to like room 5; he slept there that night and the next.
On Monday September 17th, the housekeeper, Maricela, knocked on the door to room 5. There was no answer. She had only one room to clean that morning, and things were always quiet this time of year. Pretty much deserted, actually. Maricela opened the door and entered the room. She found Lyle Stevik kneeling in the corner, his back to the door, arms hanging loosely by his sides, head tilted back at a very odd angle. And his eyes, they were open. Staring up at the ceiling. Maricela thought he was praying at first, but he wasn't praying. He was dead. His leather belt had been wrapped around his throat and attached to the metal coat rack in the closet. His knees were off the ground. He'd hanged himself.
On the nightstand was a folded comment card with the words "For the room" scratched across the back, $160 inside, which was enough to cover the room plus a pretty nice tip. He had no ID, nothing at all. The police canvassed the area. Nobody knew Lyle Stevik, or whoever he was. They ran his DNA, dental records, and fingerprints, but no match. The address he'd written on the card when he checked in belonged to a Best Western inn in Idaho. Nobody at the Best Western recognized the dead man in room 5. Lyle Stevik didn't exist.
The windows had been covered a bedspread, most likely to block out the light, and there were pillows placed along the walls, perhaps as some kind of ad hoc sound barrier so any other guests at the hotel wouldn't hear him thrash or cry out. Committing suicide in this manner would have been violent, painful. It would have taken a remarkable amount of dedication to fight against the will to live. The desire to simply... stand up and save your life.
There were a few strange items on his person and in the room, including a bible with a bookmarked section of John 12:33, "This he said, signifying what death he should die." In a small garbage can: the Daily World, a local newspaper, an empty Pepsi cup, and a crumpled up bit of paper about five or six inches wide, one word written on it in black capital letters: SUICIDE.
While not entirely conclusive, investigators believed that the handwriting on the small scrap of paper was different enough from the writing on the registration card Stevik filled out for Aunt Barb, that it could have been written by a different person.
Lyle Stevik wore clothes that suggested he wasn't poor, probably upper or upper middle class. He appeared well-groomed, and although he was rail thin, he didn't appear sickly or distressed physically. His teeth were in excellent shape, he had an appendectomy scar but no tattoos or birthmarks, and his urine and blood samples were clean: he wasn't intoxicated when he hanged himself.
His ethnicity was somewhere between Native American, Middle Eastern, and Caucasian. It was really hard to make a clear distinction there. Aunt Barb thought he might've been Canadian, but she wasn't sure. There were two busses into town that day, but neither driver remembers Lyle Stevik as a passenger.
On the 15th, Maricela knocks and Stevik informs her she won't need to clean. However, he does ask for fresh towels. Aunt Barb notices him later that day, out pacing along the highway.
September 16th, somehow Stevik procures a copy of the local Sunday paper.
September 17th, Maricela discovers Stevik dead in the room, belt buckle at his Adam's apple, a towel placed between the buckle and his throat.
Lyle Stevik was buried in an unmarked grave in Fern Hill Cemetery in Aberdeen, and that was the end of that. Until five years later.
In 2006 the internet took notice, and amateur online detectives began digging into the case. Everybody had an opinion, and the myth of Lyle Stevik, or John Doe, grew. Facebook, Wikipedia, Websleuths, Reddit, fan fiction and the rest. When the internet takes notice, it really takes notice. Many missing persons were identified as potential matches and then very quickly ruled out.
People focused on the name itself: was it Slavic? Norwegian? Or did it have something to do with 1987 novel by Joyce Carol Oates called You Must Remember This, a sprawling book featuring a professional boxer named Lyle Stevic spelled with a C unlike the registration card filled out for Aunt Barb, which spelled Stevik S-T-E-V-I-K. In the novel, Stevic with a C slides into a very deep depression and tries to hang himself. Missing C or not, the situations were eerily similar.
Some amateur detectives believed Lyle Stevik was connected to 9/11 somehow. Maybe he'd lost a loved one in the attacks, or maybe he was an attacker himself, unable to complete his assignment and committed suicide in shame as a kind of penance. He did have time to make it to Amanda Park from New York.
These 9/11 rumors are the biggest topics of discussion when it comes to the subject of conspiracy theories related to the death of Lyle Stevik, but there are those who claim otherworldly events may have taken place as well. People who stay at the motel often claim that they see the ghost of Lyle Stevik standing over them when they wake in the middle of the night, or sitting in a chair next to the bed. He's usually perceived as a sinister apparition, visible just out of the corner of their eye.
But here in the real world, there's been no sign of him, no clue to the identity of the man who signed into the Lake Quinault Inn in the sleepy little Washington town of Amanda Park as Lyle Stevik. Like so many things happening in and around this area of the Pacific Northwest, Lyle Stevik remains a mystery.
It's Tanis. I'm Nic Silver. We'll be back again in two weeks. Until then, keep looking.
Nic: Tanis is produced by Terry Miles. Produced, mixed, and edited by me, Nic Silver. Executive producers Terry Miles and Paul Bae.
For legal and safety reasons, we've elected to change some names, and leave others out entirely. We don't do this very often, but we're not willing to compromise people's safety for any reason.
Thanks again for listening to Tanis.
Last week I mentioned that I was interested in looking at Tanis from another angle. Up to this point the question I've been asking has been "Where is Tanis?" Perhaps in light of recent events, the more important question might be "What is Tanis?"
- Burnnett: You look like you're feeling better.
- Nic: And you're a good liar.
- Burnnett: What makes you say that?
- Nic: I look exactly the same. Or, if anything, more tired.
- Burnnett: You haven't been sleeping.
- Nic: Three or four hours. But to be fair, that's pretty normal for me.
- Burnnett: It shouldn't be normal, that's not enough sleep.
- Nic: I feel okay.
- Burnnett: Lack of sleep can have a cumulative effect.
- Nic: Right, but my lack of sleep isn't unusual. I mean it's not Tanis-related specifically.
- Burnnett: Okay, I understand. Let's agree to put a pin in that for now.
- Nic: Sounds good.
- Burnnett: Shall we get started?
- Nic: Okay.
Nic: The following is an excerpt from the hypnosis recording session that followed.
- Nic: The runner stopped there. I don't know... it looks like she is unable to continue at this point.
- Burnnett: You called her "the runner," do you mean Veronika?
- Nic: Veronika, yes.
- Burnnett: What's wrong with Veronika?
- Nic: She spent hours yesterday trying to decide how far out of the way we'd need to go to reach the path that was right in front of us. The novelist, Morgan, got impatient. She didn't understand how come we couldn't simply walk over to the path that was right there, we could see it from the camp.
- Burnnett: Right. Did Morgan's position make sense to you?
- Nic: Yes and no.
- Burnnett: What do you mean?
- Nic: Well, I can't really decide how I knew, but I knew Veronika was right. I mean, I could see the path differently. I tried to tell Morgan, but she didn't understand.
- Burnnett: But you understood why couldn't simply walk over to the path that was right in front of you?
- Nic: I didn't... so much understand why, but I understood that she was right.
- Burnnett: Veronika?
- Nic: Veronika.
- Burnnett: What happened when Morgan walked over to the path?
- Nic: That's when everything changed. It took an entire day to get back on track, for Veronika to get Morgan to fall back in line, to find where we were. It wasn't long after that incident with the path that the bridge appeared, and the runner, Veronika, she became concerned. Very concerned.
- Burnnett: Could you describe the bridge?
- Nic: Well, the bridge wasn't there before. It was something that... there were a few times Veronika warned us not to turn around, but... 0:05:41.7 was hard. The biggest challenge was the sound. The sound... was too much. We couldn't help ourselves, we turned at the sound and when we turned back, there was the bridge. In the middle of the forest, spanning nothing but foliage, dirt. The bridge was old, or it looked old, as if it had been there forever. But...
- Burnnett: But it wasn't there earlier?
- Nic: No.
- Burnnett: Hm.
- Nic: It didn't seem... exactly right though. I don't know why but it just felt different somehow, off a little. But maybe I was just tired. I, it was...
- Burnnett: Okay. Um, what did Veronika have to say about the bridge?
- Nic: Nothing. She was scared. She looked terrified actually.
- Burnnett: Okay.
- Nic: That's the point where things... took a turn. When, well, it was a long time before Veronika collected herself, stood up, and led us forward slowly toward the calm.
Nic: I'm sure by now you're wondering if my stance on hypnosis is changed. Well, I'm not sure. I've studied the recordings I've made of my sessions so far, although there's more detail than I remember on the surface, we're still moving through a time period that I can recall pretty well on my own, I am wondering what's gonna happen when we get to the cabin, when we reach the point where my memories end.
When I'm under hypnosis, if I'm actually under hypnosis, I feel like myself but it's kind of like a waking dream, an overwhelming sense of having no inhibitions. It's interesting, I thought that I'd hate it, but I find that I look forward to it. Almost like a massage or a meditation session. I wonder if I'll feel the same way if and when we get to what happened inside that cabin.
At first, the police were focused on me as the sole person of interest in the disappearance of Sam and Tara Reynolds. However, a few days after I was pulled out of the cabin the questions just stopped. Since then I've called the local police a few times for updates on Sam, but nobody's been willing to return my calls. I went down there to ask them in person, and all I was able to get from the desk sergeant was a gruff and cursory, "We're still looking. Are you a family member?" When I told her I wasn't related to Sam, that was the end of that.
Cameron Ellis brought me into a secure room, no cell reception, nothing out nothing in, to watch the video of the allegedly disappearing cabin. I say allegedly because frankly the video looks fake to me. I suggested to cameron Ellis that maybe the cabin was still there and he was just trying to throw me off the scent. He denied it and I don't think he's lying. But still, I just can't buy that video. I mean, I suppose it could be real. What would a disappearing cabin look like if not like the Hollywood version of a disappearing cabin, I suppose.
I asked my friend Alex Reagan what question she would most like answered after listening to episode 201 of Tanis.
- Alex: Okay, well...
- Nic: Should we talk about...?
- Alex: Yeah.
- Nic: Well okay, thanks for coming in and talking about Tanis with me in the studio.
- Alex: My pleasure, I have many questions about Tanis (laughs).
- Nic: Yes, me too.
- Alex: Okay. Well. I wanted to know why Cameron Ellis told you to "Be patient"?
- Nic: Yeah. He does seem pretty intent on slowing things down.
- Alex: Well he said you're not ready.
- Nic: Yeah. I'm ready!
- Alex: You're totally ready!
- Nic: Right!?
- Alex: Yeah!
- Nic: Do you think it's possible that he really is trying to just keep me outta harms way? Like he says, or implies?
- Alex: Well, that sounds like it's part of it. Maybe.
- Nic: Yeah.
- Alex: I think you need to find Nathaniel Carter.
- Nic: Yeah, I think you're probably right.
- Alex: Yeah.
Nic: Alex echoed something that I'd been thinking about a lot lately: Nathaniel Carter. How does Nathaniel Carter fit into all of this? I suspected he was the key to unlocking at least part of this mystery, probably a big part. His name just kept coming up. I needed to find out everything I could about Nathaniel Carter. But first, Meerkatnip called with an update.
- Nic: Any news on the missing feet? On Alan Malden?
- MK: Still working on that, but I'm not sure there's much there.
- Nic: Okay, you said in your message that you found something?
- MK: The navigator.
- Nic: What about him... or her?
- MK: I'm not sure yet, gender-wise. I dug into a bunch of internet-adjacent search formats in the local libraries digitized newspapers recently made text search capable, and then a few good old fashioned physical searches. Uh, for which I will need some money.
- Nic: I'll take care of it, of course.
- MK: Thank you.
- Nic: What did you find?
- MK: There were a number of search terms, most were dead ends and then there's a few I'm still working on. But I did get a hit on something related.
- Nic: Great. What came up?
- MK: It was in reference to your Eld Fen PDF actually.
- Nic: Really?
- MK: I cross-referenced phrases from that PDF and then combined them with my growing list of Tanis search terms, which includes "the navigator."
- Nic: And something came up?
- MK: Well, the navigator might not be... real. Like, I mean a real person. Like physically speaking.
- Nic: What do you mean?
- MK: Uh, it's hard to explain, but it feels like it fits into your whole mysterious Tanis thing.
- Nic: Okay.
- MK: There's a guy I know who has ECHELON satellite access.
- Nic: Wow.
- MK: Mmhm, it's not really as big a deal as it sounds though.
- Nic: Oh, okay. Really!?
- MK: Well, it's kind of a big deal for some people.
- Nic: Okay.
- MK: Flagged a few things for me which led me back to guess who?
- Nic: Cameron Ellis.
- MK: No. The Cult of Tanis.'
- Nic: Really?
- MK: Yeah, turns out they're on a watch list like a lot of cults, even though they're currently listed as inactive.
- Nic: So what did your friend find?
- MK: Mm, transcripts of a few cell phone conversations. I'm sending them now, and yes, I can read them for you as well.
- Nic: How long are they?
- MK: Uh, two excerpts, I could of paragraphs.
- Nic: Okay, sounds good.
- MK: You ready?
- Nic: Ready.
- MK: Okay, the first one reads, "We must find the one they call the Navigator, the Cleric, the Morningstar. The Navigator has means to give voice, to give flesh, to give rise." Then there's like some numbers followed by other nonsense, and then another sentence, "We're close now." It's undated, and so is the next section actually, which is a bit longer. Are you ready?
- Nic: Uh, yeah, ready.
- MK: Okay. "She started exhibiting the signs after an hour. We tried to minimize her exposure after that, but we lost her. We'll keep working. Also, it looks like we may have found a signifier, it could be something, maybe even the one you've been looking for, but there's no way to know without exposure. Arcadia believes on the other one, the taken, we may have access to the brother per our discussion, but we don't know how long this well last. Action may be required, please advise. Also, the thing about the navi--" And then it cuts off.
- Nic: That's it?
- MK: That's where it cuts off, yeah. A lot of these recordings are automated, they kick in when they hear certain phrases and record for set amounts of time.
- Nic: I'm assuming you sent the text of these recordings to my email?
- MK: Yes of course.
- Nic: Thank you.
- MK: No problemo. (Skype disconnects)
Nic: MK read pretty much everything she sent in her email, aside from some weird numbers and letters that were included in the first message. I'll upload those to the notes section of our website. There was something I forgot to ask, so I called her right back.
- Nic: I forgot to ask you about the video file you sent.
- MK: I told you, they were horrible.
- Nic: Sorry, uh, not the videos, I meant the audio file.
- MK: Oh, the weird devil breathing movie projector Exorcist shit?
- Nic: (laughing) Yeah, that one.
- MK: What about it?
- Nic: Any new information?
- MK: I wasn't headed down that path. Would you like me to look into it?
- Nic: If you don't mind.
- MK: Why would I mind?
- Nic: Right. Okay. Um, thanks.
- MK: Yup. (Skype disconnects)
Nic: So while Meerkatnip was looking into that weird recording, I asked Cameron Ellis about the disturbing videos Meerkatnip had sent me earlier.
- Cameron: It's good to see you're doing better.
- Nic: Well I'm not sure that's true (laughs).
- Cameron: Well you look a lot better than last time I saw you.
- Nic: Thanks, I think.
- Cameron: I gave some thought to what you asked. About the videos?
- Nic: And?
- Cameron: I'm not sure you're ready to (pause) explore that part of the story.
- Nic: The torture part of the story?
- Cameron: It's not that simple.
- Nic: What do you think our audience is gonna think if I release those videos?
- Cameron: I don't think that's a good idea.
- Nic: But somebody might know something, might recognize somebody?
- Cameron: That's precisely why it's a bad idea.
- Nic: Okay you're not doing much to convince me here. (long pause) Honestly, I'm getting tired of all the cryptic "I'm doing this for your own good" shit here.
- Cameron: I'm gonna show you something.
- Nic: What something?
- Cameron: Come with me.
- (rustling and footsteps)
Nic: Once again, Cameron Ellis took me into his research area. This time, however, he cleared everyone out. And we he and I were left alone, he used a high tech keypad to access a door that led into a long narrow corridor. We walked for a long time until we entered what appeared to be another facility connected to TeslaNova. We had to be deep underground at this point.
Ellis must have somehow given the word to evacuate or clear this area as well, because as we continued to move forward through a maze of doors and corridors, there was nobody around. We finally entered what appeared to be a kind of small lobby in yet another section of the TeslaNova underground labyrinth. Here, two guards stood to attention as we entered. They each placed key cards into a sophisticated security panel and yet another door opened. Cameron Ellis turned and motioned for me to enter. Apparently, we'd arrived at our destination.
We entered a long glass corridor that wrapped around a cell of some kind. In the cell was what appeared to be a man. He had dark hair. He was facing away from the glass, wrapped in a dark blue blanket.
- Nic: Who is he?
- Cameron: His name is Marcus. But that's not important.
- Nic: What is he doing down here? What are you doing down here?
- Cameron: He's under observation.
- Nic: Is this legal?
- Cameron: Yes.
- Nic: I'll just have to take your word on that, I suppose? (long pause) What's he, what's goin' on in there?
- (switch clicking)
- Cameron: Hello Marcus.
- Marcus: You came back.
- Cameron: Yes.
- Marcus: You're not alone.
- Cameron: No, I'm not.
- Marcus: Who do we suppose is with Cameron? Hm?
- Nic: Who is he? Marcus?
- Cameron: His full name isn't important. It's where he was that matters.
- Nic: Tanis.
- Cameron: Yes.
- Marcus: Oh, we don't need this where we're going.
- Cameron: Marcus, you have to stop.
- Marcus: We're going to change, Cameron. We don't need any of this.
- Cameron: Stop!
Nic: I'm going to describe what happened while Marcus was speaking to us, but if you're squeamish in any way, you might wanna skip ahead a few seconds. After telling us "We're not going to need this where we're going," Marcus dug his fingers into his chest. Blood poured from the wound as he peeled back a window of pulpy flesh. He was smiling, clearly feeling absolutely no pain.
Cameron pushed an alarm but Marcus continued to dig, telling us we'd be reborn and reforged without skin or flesh, a large flap of thick bloody skin and meat hung from his chest, ribs visible, his pumping heart visible. Two medical security personnel arrived seemingly out of nowhere and began the process of entering Marcus's cell, each donning some kind of hazmat suit and then typing in a security code.
While they hurried to get in, Marcus peeled more flesh from his body and wiped his bloody hand against the window, painting a kind of arcane symbol and laughing the entire time. He snarled and lunged at the medics as they entered his cell. At this point, Cameron Ellis led me away from the area. Marcus continued screaming at us as we moved away down the hall.
- Marcus: We're all going home! We're all going home! (maniacal laughter)
-
- Nic: What kind of torture was that?
- Cameron: We're not torturing him, Nic. We're (pause) trying to help him.
- Nic: What do you mean you're trying to help him? I'm sorry but it doesn't really look like that is helping.
- Cameron: He was found in the breach, we're trying to help him find his way back.
- Nic: I don't think it's going very well.
- Cameron: (pause) No, it's not.
- Nic: What happened? Why wasn't he restrained?
- Cameron: He wasn't restrained because he was doing much better. It wasn't until he saw you that he became... well, agitated.
- Nic: And why would seeing me cause him to become... agitated?
- Cameron: It could be that seeing somebody new threw him off balance somehow, or maybe he was just heading for some kind of mental break. We should have been more diligent, but he was calm for the longest time. You have to understand we really are trying to heal him, Nic.
Nic: I left TeslaNova in a daze. Cameron Ellis was creepy and cryptic as usual, he promised he'd tell me more about what was happening but that he wanted some time to look into a few things. I made him agree to meet with me again before the end of the week. It was while I was waiting to hear back from Cameron Ellis that I received a call from a fairly new friend.
- Geoff: Hey buddy, how are things?
- Nic: Oh you know, just trying to figure this thing out.
- Geoff: (laughs) Ah, you'll get there.
- Nic: I don't know about that, (laughing) but I appreciate the optimism. What's up?
- Geoff: I got something in the mail, something addressed to Carl.
- Nic: What is it?
- Geoff: Ah, looks like a letter.
- Nic: Who's it from?
- Geoff: There's no return address.
- Nic: Really? What was inside?
- Geoff: I dunno.
- Nic: You don't know?
- Geoff: I didn't open it.
- Nic: Why not?
- Geoff: I thought you might, you know, wanna do it live on your show.
- Nic: Well you know my show's not really live...
- Geoff: (laughing) Yeah, you know what I mean. Like, live on tape. First time kinda thing, you know.
- Nic: Right. No yeah, that'd be great thanks.
- Geoff: Yeah, let's do it.
- Nic: Over a couple of beers?
- Geoff: You know it buddy!
- Nic: Sounds good.
- Geoff: Uh, now?
- Nic: Okay yeah, now works for me. Can you give me...
- Geoff: Cool.
- Nic: Like 45 minutes?
- Geoff: Yeah, I can give you 45 minutes. Uh, you wanna go to the same place?
- Nic: Yeah, that sounds good.
- Geoff: Alright buddy, see ya soon.
- Nic: Okay, bye.
- Geoff: Bye.
- (people chattering indistinctly, glass setting on a table)
- Nic: Thanks.
- Geoff: You bet.
- Nic: So before we get to Carl's mail, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, since last season actually.
- Geoff: Ask away.
- Nic: Okay, so it's my understand that Carl wasn't allowed computer access.
- Geoff: Yeah, that's right.
- Nic: Well I was wondering about the email Carl sent and received, if he actually... maybe he had a hidden computer somewhere or something?
- Geoff: Is this coming from Meerkatnip?
- Nic: (laughs) I keep forgetting you listen to the show.
- Geoff: Oh yeah, it's fun. I love it. She's the best part, no offense.
- Nic: Hey, you're not gonna get any kind of argument from me.
- Geoff: Yeah, I mean Carl found ways to send messages, email mainly. I didn't ask how he was doing it, I don't think he would have told me anyway. He wouldn't wanna, you know, implicate me. He was cool that way.
- Nic: Right. I wished I coulda met him.
- Geoff: Oh no, you don't.
- Nic: Why's that?
- Geoff: Carl was fuckin' crazy.
- Nic: (pause) So what crime was he convicted of exactly?
- Geoff: Uh it was somethin', I dunno, he was doin' in Russia. It's a military thing. I dunno. He never really spoke about it. Hey maybe Meerkatnip could find out?
- Nic: I can ask her.
- Geoff: That'd be cool.
- Nic: Okay, so shall we get to the letter?
- Geoff: Yes!
- (paper rustling)
- Geoff: Here ya go.
- Nic: Uhh, this is it?
- Geoff: That's it.
- Nic: It came to the house?
- Geoff: No, it came to the mailbox Carl rented.
- Nic: You kept the mailbox?
- Geoff: No, that's the thing.
- Nic: Oh?
- Geoff: Yeah, they called me and asked if I wanted to renew the mailbox.
- Nic: And?
- Geoff: I told them no, of course, they said fine but could I come and pick up the mail?
- Nic: And that's where you got this letter?
- Geoff: Yup.
- Nic: Anything else?
- Geoff: Mm, just a couple magazines and that letter, that's it.
- Nic: Okay. So, should we open it?
- Geoff: Yeah! We should open it!
- Nic: Alright, let's do it.
- Geoff: You want me to do it?
- Nic: Yeah, do it.
- Geoff: Alright.
- (paper rustling, seal rips loudly, paper rustling)
- Geoff: (long pause) Hm.
- Nic: Well this is interesting.
Nic: I opened the envelope. There were two pages. One was a typed letter, the other a photocopy of a second letter, also typed. The first letter was undated and addressed to Carl. The photocopied letter wasn't addressed to anyone in particular, but it was dated August 9th, 2001. At the bottom of the photocopied page, in ink, somebody had written the words "Levity Elks." L-E-V-I-T-Y E-L-K-S. It looked like these things were Tanis related. I've asked Alex Reagan to read both letters. This is letter number one, the letter addressed to Carl.
- Alex: Letter number one:
- "Dear Carl, In your most recent letter, you asked me how you can tell if you're a runner. Well, the answer to that question is both extremely complicated and incredibly simple. There are a number of phenomenological experiences, visions, dreams, and inner conversations, that lead one to believe they're qualified or at least on the right path. But outside of that kind of internal exploration there is another more concrete way. You can simply try and do the work. Try and find the calm. Try and find the way, the map. This is difficult, and the constantly changing landscape of both the interior and exterior elements makes it extremely dangerous. You could go there and just listen. Perhaps you'll hear the voice. Perhaps you'll hear the calm. But remember, that's what happened to him. And there is nothing you can do if it happens to you. I've included a copy of a letter I received from him, just about a month before the event. Just about a month before his death."
- Letter number two:
-
- "I am the voice. I am the reason. I am the source. The occult. The good people and the bad. You are problems. You have many things within you. You desire to harm us, to use your murdering computer. You can see us in your television shows, in your religions, in your wars, your death, your videos and music, your doctors and your rich neighbors. You will find us in your little monsters, your secret thoughts, your secret lives. We're close. In the margins. Around the edges. And we're waiting. Sleeping, but ready. We're always ready. You'll find us hidden in your codes, your DNA, your medicine, and your disease. We're everything waiting at the end of the world. We're everything you fear in the dark. We're your cold dark desire. We're legion. We're coming. We're here. Levity Elks."
-
- Geoff: What the fuck is a Levity Elks?
- Nic: (laughing) I have no idea. It's a weird name, that's for sure.
- Geoff: It's fuckin' nuts!
- Nic: What do you think about the rest of it?
- Geoff: What do I think? I... I think it's time for another beer.
- Nic: (laughing) I think you're probably right.
- Geoff: Finish yours, I'll be back with two more.
- Nic: Okay. Thanks.
Nic: Carl van Sant's letters were strange. Disturbing. I asked Geoff if he'd be comfortable with me renewing his brother's mailbox, he said that would be fine. I asked Meerkatnip to look into the contents of both letters and that name, Levity Elks. There was nothing online but as you know, MK is extremely resourceful.
- MK: It's an anagram.
- Nic: You're sure?
- MK: I'm not positive, but it's a strong guess.
- Nic: What do you mean?
- MK: Well I found Levity Elks listed in a fragment of an email discussing Saint Raywood.
- Nic: Saint Raywood?
- MK: Yeah, you remember your weird hypnosis anagram thing with Veronika Pillman?
- Nic: Right, Saint Raywood was an anagram for Tanis Doorway.
- MK: That's right.
- Nic: But I'm not sure any of that was real. And that anagram could very easily be a coincidence.
- MK: Really?
- Nic: You don't think so?
- MK: Okay, well whether any of your dream shit was real or not, Saint Raywood is an anagram and so is Levity Elks probably.
- Nic: Probably okay, what anagram?
- MK: Lyle Stevik.
- Nic: Lyle Stevik, who's Lyle Stevik?
- MK: You really hate the internet, don't you?
- Nic: (laughing) No, I'm a big fan of the internet actually. I just, you know, I miss the sense of discovery of, you know, I think we lost something when we...
- MK: Yeah yeah yeah, you miss mystery. I get it, it's cute.
- Nic: It's cute, okay.
- MK: (sighs) Lyle Stevik is a pseudonym.
- Nic: For who? Whom?
- MK: Mm, nobody knows.
- Nic: Okay. So what is...?
- MK: A man was found dead Friday, September 14th 2001 in a motel on the coast of Washington, the Lake Quinault Inn. Probably in his late 20s, early 30s. He listed his address as 1019 South Progress Ave, Meridian, Idaho. Three days earlier, hijacked commercial airliners hit the World Trade Center and Pentagon, changing the world as we knew it.
- Nic: Wow.
- MK: Yeah.
- Nic: Thanks.
- MK: You bet. (Skype disconnects)
Nic: MK sent me a huge pile of information on Lyle Stevik. I'm gonna do my best to condense that stuff in a way that makes sense.
After the events of September 11th 2001, 3,000 miles away in a beautiful gloomy section of the Olympic Peninsula in a town called Amanda Park, a woman named Barbara, who the locals referred to lovingly as Aunt Barb, gave Lyle Stevik the key to room 8, an annexed room close to the trailer park that buttressed the property. He paid in cash. About an hour later, Lyle returned to the front desk and asked to change rooms. He claimed that noise from the trailer park was disturbing him. Aunt Barb mentioned later that the second time she spoke with Lyle Stevik, when he asked to switch rooms, he was nervous, twitchy. She said that he avoided eye contact. He gave her the creeps. She handed him the key to room 5. He seemed to like room 5; he slept there that night and the next.
On Monday September 17th, the housekeeper, Maricela, knocked on the door to room 5. There was no answer. She had only one room to clean that morning, and things were always quiet this time of year. Pretty much deserted, actually. Maricela opened the door and entered the room. She found Lyle Stevik kneeling in the corner, his back to the door, arms hanging loosely by his sides, head tilted back at a very odd angle. And his eyes, they were open. Staring up at the ceiling. Maricela thought he was praying at first, but he wasn't praying. He was dead. His leather belt had been wrapped around his throat and attached to the metal coat rack in the closet. His knees were off the ground. He'd hanged himself.
On the nightstand was a folded comment card with the words "For the room" scratched across the back, $160 inside, which was enough to cover the room plus a pretty nice tip. He had no ID, nothing at all. The police canvassed the area. Nobody knew Lyle Stevik, or whoever he was. They ran his DNA, dental records, and fingerprints, but no match. The address he'd written on the card when he checked in belonged to a Best Western inn in Idaho. Nobody at the Best Western recognized the dead man in room 5. Lyle Stevik didn't exist.
The windows had been covered a bedspread, most likely to block out the light, and there were pillows placed along the walls, perhaps as some kind of ad hoc sound barrier so any other guests at the hotel wouldn't hear him thrash or cry out. Committing suicide in this manner would have been violent, painful. It would have taken a remarkable amount of dedication to fight against the will to live. The desire to simply... stand up and save your life.
There were a few strange items on his person and in the room, including a bible with a bookmarked section of John 12:33, "This he said, signifying what death he should die." In a small garbage can: the Daily World, a local newspaper, an empty Pepsi cup, and a crumpled up bit of paper about five or six inches wide, one word written on it in black capital letters: SUICIDE.
While not entirely conclusive, investigators believed that the handwriting on the small scrap of paper was different enough from the writing on the registration card Stevik filled out for Aunt Barb, that it could have been written by a different person.
Lyle Stevik wore clothes that suggested he wasn't poor, probably upper or upper middle class. He appeared well-groomed, and although he was rail thin, he didn't appear sickly or distressed physically. His teeth were in excellent shape, he had an appendectomy scar but no tattoos or birthmarks, and his urine and blood samples were clean: he wasn't intoxicated when he hanged himself.
His ethnicity was somewhere between Native American, Middle Eastern, and Caucasian. It was really hard to make a clear distinction there. Aunt Barb thought he might've been Canadian, but she wasn't sure. There were two busses into town that day, but neither driver remembers Lyle Stevik as a passenger.
On the 15th, Maricela knocks and Stevik informs her she won't need to clean. However, he does ask for fresh towels. Aunt Barb notices him later that day, out pacing along the highway.
September 16th, somehow Stevik procures a copy of the local Sunday paper.
September 17th, Maricela discovers Stevik dead in the room, belt buckle at his Adam's apple, a towel placed between the buckle and his throat.
Lyle Stevik was buried in an unmarked grave in Fern Hill Cemetery in Aberdeen, and that was the end of that. Until five years later.
In 2006 the internet took notice, and amateur online detectives began digging into the case. Everybody had an opinion, and the myth of Lyle Stevik, or John Doe, grew. Facebook, Wikipedia, Websleuths, Reddit, fan fiction and the rest. When the internet takes notice, it really takes notice. Many missing persons were identified as potential matches and then very quickly ruled out.
People focused on the name itself: was it Slavic? Norwegian? Or did it have something to do with 1987 novel by Joyce Carol Oates called You Must Remember This, a sprawling book featuring a professional boxer named Lyle Stevic spelled with a C unlike the registration card filled out for Aunt Barb, which spelled Stevik S-T-E-V-I-K. In the novel, Stevic with a C slides into a very deep depression and tries to hang himself. Missing C or not, the situations were eerily similar.
Some amateur detectives believed Lyle Stevik was connected to 9/11 somehow. Maybe he'd lost a loved one in the attacks, or maybe he was an attacker himself, unable to complete his assignment and committed suicide in shame as a kind of penance. He did have time to make it to Amanda Park from New York.
These 9/11 rumors are the biggest topics of discussion when it comes to the subject of conspiracy theories related to the death of Lyle Stevik, but there are those who claim otherworldly events may have taken place as well. People who stay at the motel often claim that they see the ghost of Lyle Stevik standing over them when they wake in the middle of the night, or sitting in a chair next to the bed. He's usually perceived as a sinister apparition, visible just out of the corner of their eye.
But here in the real world, there's been no sign of him, no clue to the identity of the man who signed into the Lake Quinault Inn in the sleepy little Washington town of Amanda Park as Lyle Stevik. Like so many things happening in and around this area of the Pacific Northwest, Lyle Stevik remains a mystery.
It's Tanis. I'm Nic Silver. We'll be back again in two weeks. Until then, keep looking.
Nic: Tanis is produced by Terry Miles. Produced, mixed, and edited by me, Nic Silver. Executive producers Terry Miles and Paul Bae.
For legal and safety reasons, we've elected to change some names, and leave others out entirely. We don't do this very often, but we're not willing to compromise people's safety for any reason.
Thanks again for listening to Tanis.