Case File #02173

​

The following has been transcribed from audio journal entries found on The Ahab II, a commercial fishing vessel, recorded by the ship’s captain Murray Reynolds. The Ahab II set sail for a fishing run on May 1st, 2017. The following recordings were made between May 2nd and June 13th, 2017. Inconsequential entries have been removed.

​

The recordings are as follows.

​

…

​

Entry #1

The recording device turns on to the sound of shuffling as it is being moved around. After a few seconds, the shuffling noise stops, and a voice can be heard.

Captain Reynolds: Is this thing on? Hello? Ah, I see the light. I guess that means it’s working. This is Captain Murray Reynolds of The Ahab II with my first journal entry on what will be my final fishing run before I retire. My kids got me this to document what they called a “historic” trip. It’s funny; I’m not sure I’d agree with them on that statement. I’ve been out on these seas for almost 50 years, and knowing this will be the last time fills me with despair. All I’ve ever known in this life, I don’t think I’ve been very good at life on land.

​

My late wife Emilie had lost her battle with cancer just a few months ago, and my son said he wanted me to move closer to him. He says it’s to help with the grandkids, but I know he worries about me. Both of my children know that I can’t take care of myself, not on land anyway. Emilie always took care of me, the kids, and our home. Sure, I’d work around the house, but she was my rock. I’m sure she sometimes felt like a live-in nanny, but she never complained.

​

“I know that I married you and the sea.” Emilie would always tell me with her gentle voice. She was so understanding; she was a good woman. Maybe better than I deserved, I’d give anything to be with her right now. I miss her. I miss her so much. I always wanted to retire so I could spend more time with her, but I never had the heart to leave this behind; now, it's too late, isn’t it?

​

But my god, this has gotten sappy didn’t mean for that to happen. This old man tends to ramble on a little too much, and I guess my age has made me soft. I’ve got a good crew of three men with me. Andy’s been with me a couple of times before, a good kid and a hard worker. Michael, who stepped onto my boat for the first time just yesterday, comes very highly recommended. I think he’ll work out; he seems to have a good head on his shoulders and is strong as an ox. Then, of course, that salty bastard I call my friend Steve. I’ve lost count of the number of runs we’ve done together, he’s not very far behind me in age, but he’s still as quick as ever. When I told him this would be my last run, he left another boat to be here and said he wouldn’t miss this run for anything. He’s a good man, and I’m proud to call him a friend.

​

I’ll keep this thing updated when I can, the weather is beautiful, and we should have a fruitful couple of weeks. The weather is supposed to hold until the end of the month; we’ll be long back by then. Guess I’d better go see what the crew is up to and make sure we’re ready for our first spot. I’ll check back in tomorrow. Now how do I turn this thing–

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry #2

​

The recording device turns on.

​

Captain Reynolds: This is Murray Reynolds, Captain of The Ahab II. I guess I don’t need to say that every time. I'm used to hailing other ships, now recording my rambling thoughts for a journal. It’s been a good couple of days; we made our few hauls, and wouldn’t you know it, I was right to say it’d be a fruitful trip. The fish were spilling out of our net as we pulled it in; even Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile. Our work is done for the day, and the boys have a game of cards below. They asked me to join, but I promised my kids that I’d record every day, so that’s what I intend to do.

​

It’s funny, I’ve only ever truly felt at home on the water, but now that Emilie is gone, I can’t help but feel a little uneasy out here. Steve says it’s because I always knew she’d be at home waiting for me; now I’m going home to an empty house. You see, Emilie was kind of like my lighthouse. I’ve been through my fair share of rough seas and hard times but knowing I’d see her beautiful smile again made it so easy. I miss her, but Steve calls me lucky to have ever had someone like her in the first place. That it’s only natural my heart is aching the way it is. It shows how strong our love is, specifically my love for her.

​

The pain I feel from missing her is always on the outskirts of my mind. Even when I’m throwing a net out or sitting with the crew playing cards, the hole I feel in my heart is always there. Sorry to whoever is listening to this; I just realized you probably don’t want to hear a sad old captain talk about how much he misses his dead wife. Just something that was on my mind; I wanted to get out. I promise every entry won’t be like this.

​

This is Captain Reynolds, signing off.

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry #3

​

The recording device turns on. The wind is faintly heard in the background.

​

Captain Reynolds: This is Captain Murray Reynolds, of the– well, you know who I am now, I’d hope. Bit of a rough day today with the sea, nothing we couldn’t handle, but it caught me by surprise. There wasn’t any nasty weather in the forecast for at least another few weeks. The skies suddenly turned gray, the wind picked up, and the sea got choppy. Luckily I’ve got an experienced crew, so they were ready for anything. Still, as I look up into those now ominous-looking clouds, I can’t shake this strange feeling.

​

Steve and I both feel a change in the air and a different taste in our tongues. It’s hard to explain, but when you’ve been at this as long as we have, it’s almost like a sixth sense; you know when something terrible is about to happen. I radioed in just to be safe, but I have faith that we'll be fine even if we get caught in a storm. I’ve seen this ship through more than a few storms in my day. This old girl may not be much to look at, but she’ll hold against anything mother nature can throw at her.

​

A voice is heard in the background calling for Murray.

​

I’ll have to cut this one short, I’ll try and check in tomorrow, but if we do run into a storm, it may be tricky.

​

This is Captain Reynolds, signing off.

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry #4

​

The recording device turns on. Strong winds and heavy rain can be heard hitting the window.

​

Captain Reynolds: This is Captain Reynolds of The Ahab II. As I’m sure you can hear, my crew and I have entered a rather nasty storm. Just yesterday, when I checked in, the clouds looked a little ominous, but this storm is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The wind and rain have been relentless, hitting our skin like thousands of tiny knives. We haven’t made much progress; I felt it's best to stay put and wait this storm out. At least wait it out as long as we can.

​

The clouds are so dark. It’s as if someone threw a black blanket over the entire sky. Without our lights, we can barely see. I don’t understand how this harsh storm wasn’t in the forecast, but these things happen. I tried to radio the Coast Guard for some information but couldn’t get a clear signal. Not surprised by that, considering all this rain. Mother Nature is anything but cooperative. We’ll be alright; a storm with this intensity can’t last more than a day or two.

​

A loud crash of thunder is heard in the background.

​

At least, I don’t think it will. There was a story my first captain used to tell about a great storm that carried evil within it. A ship would be stranded in a storm, then the crew would be pulled into The Unfathomable Deep, their afterlife in Fiddler’s Green ripped away from them. They were forced to live out their eternity trapped in the dark waters by a horrific creature that would give no quarter.

​

I always liked that one, even if it did give me the willies when I was a young lad. Looking out over the sea as it’s being pummeled by this storm, I can’t help but think of that story. I know it’s all “nautical nonsense,” as Emillie would put it, but there’s always a lesson in old tales like that. The lesson I took from that story was to never underestimate a storm. There is enough danger within one without some horrible monster.

​

No matter how long this storm lasts, the crew and I have enough food to last us weeks. I will not allow us to be anchored that long, but we’ll see how things look tomorrow morning. If we have to, we'll head back to shore; I’ll not risk the lives of my crew for one final payday. I’m off to join the crew below deck; maybe try some of that chili Andy made. I haven’t had a decent chili since Emillie passed.

​

This is Captain Reynolds, signing off.

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry #5

​

The recording device turns on. Strong wind and heavy rain hitting a window can be heard in the background, much louder than before, along with occasional thunder strikes that appear relatively close.

​

Captain Reynolds: This is Captain Murray Reynolds of The Ahab II, and we’re stranded at sea. Last night, something happened that I cannot explain. About half-past midnight, something hit us on the port side. It was as loud as a cannon and quickly woke all four of us from our slumbers. We heard the noise again as we dressed, this time at the ship's stern. I ran out without any rain gear to see what happened. I can’t explain it.

​

It looked like an ungodly large hand grabbing onto the stern of the ship; I swear I could make out wrinkled fingers, black nails, and skin that was pale as death. I rubbed my eyes to adjust to the low light, thinking I was just seeing things, but I know what I saw was real. I watched in horror as the hand slowly pulled down on our ship as if it was trying to pull us into the water. For just a second, the stern of the boat was about to enter the water. I began to slide towards the stern of the ship, and whatever in god’s name was pulling us into the water.

​

I screamed for my crew to stay back, but I’m not sure they could even hear me. I grabbed onto the closest line I could find to stop myself from sliding. I looped on and.. in the water, I saw it. The evil that the storm brought with it was something from an old tale I now believe no living man has ever seen, or if they have, they never lived to tell about it. I saw the outline of what looked to be even more large hands in the water. There was a face; it was so clear for just a second. I felt its eyes on me, its godless and sharp red eyes. Then, I heard a loud snap, and the ship was released. As the ship was released, I fell over and watched the hand slowly move out of sight. Against my better judgment, I quickly ran over to the ship's stern, but it was gone.

​

My crew ran out to check on me and see what had happened. None of them saw what I saw, and they’re saying I must have been half asleep. Even Steve laughed about it. “You’ve been reading too many old tales, my friend,” he said as he patted me on the back. It wasn’t until this morning that we realized what had happened. That...thing... pulled our propeller clean off along with most of the engine. We have no means to repair what is missing, and there’s still no signal from our radio.

​

I’ve pleaded with the crew to believe me about what I saw, but even a few hours later, they still think I’m crazy. What I saw… the hands...the face...could it be the evil from the tale my old captain used to tell? ...The Unfathomable Deep? No, no. I need to get some rest; the stress of this storm must be getting to me. We’ll wait this storm out and radio for assistance. It’ll be alright; I just need to get a hold of myself.

​

This is Captain Murray Reynolds, signing off.

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry # 6

​

The recording device turns on. Strong wind and sleet can be heard hitting a window in the background. Several thunder strikes can also be heard.

​

Several deep breaths and sighs are recorded before any speaking begins.

​

Captain Reynolds: This is Captain Murray Reynolds of The Ahab II. During my years on the sea, I’ve experienced fear on many different levels. However, the level of terror I’m feeling is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I have a hard time finding any words to even make an entry, but I think now more than ever, I must keep these journals, just in case we…no. I can’t think like that. We’ll be alright; I gave the crew my word that I’d keep them safe and guide us through this. Even though I’m not too sure what this is. I know it’s not a regular storm; I can feel that in the air.

​

What I saw last night, I can’t shake. Every time I try to close my eyes, I see those large pale hands. Steve came to see me this morning to ask about it; I was honest with him. I’ve never lied to him before, and I wasn’t about to start now. I told Steve about the hand that grabbed our ship, about the hundreds of hands I saw in the water, and I told him about the face that was looking back at me. I spared no details and looked him in the eye as every word left my lips.

​

I’ve known that old bugger for a long time, but I’ve never seen his face change with emotion so quickly. There was concern in his eyes, deep and burning. He asked me if I was alright, that my mind might be going, or perhaps I hit my head when I fell. I laughed it off with him and told him he might be right. The concerned look never left his face, but I got him talking about something else. I didn’t want to worry him anymore.

​

I asked Steve how Andy and Michael were doing when I wasn’t around; surprisingly, he said they were in good spirits. Those lads have a lot of faith in me to steer us through this storm. I’ve asked Steve to keep a close eye on them and let me know if their morale changes. I’ll do everything in my power to get these boys home safe. If what I saw last night was The Unfathomable Deep of legend...I can’t let it take them. Not my crew; I’ll do whatever is necessary. I will protect them; it’s my duty as their captain.

​

This is Captain Reynolds, signing off.

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry #7

​

The recording device turns on. Strong wind and sleet can be heard in the background. There is no other sound except for the raging storm for approx. 3 minutes.

​

Captain Reynolds: This is... It doesn't matter. It’s been a few days since my last entry; I wasn’t entirely sure if I’d ever turn this thing on again as there doesn't seem to be much point. I pride myself on being an optimistic but realistic man. The reality is this: my crew and I are trapped in this biblical storm with no way of escaping. We cannot call for a rescue, not that anyone would be able to reach us in this storm anyway. We only have enough food to last us a few more days; there's enough fuel for our emergency generator to last maybe an extra day or two afterward. Once that runs out, we will have no stove, refrigeration, lights, and nothing else to eat. This is our reality; this is what my crew understands.

​

However, there is much more to it than that. Even if my crew does not want to listen to me. I have seen it again, a hand of The Unfathomable Deep. I woke up last night after falling asleep in my chair, trying to get a signal on our radio. As I made my way down to the bunks, I saw it. An ungodly large and waterlogged hand crept towards the door to the bunks. It moved slowly, almost as if it couldn’t see what it was doing. The hand was attached to nothing; it was just suspended in the air, almost as if it was floating. There was dirt and grime under its black fingernails; it smelled of sweet rot and saltwater. Time stood still as I watched; it was almost at the door when I realized what was happening.

​

I quickly jumped into action, drawing my knife as I ran at whatever the hell that thing was. At least it would not take my crew without going through me first. Jamming the knife into the side of the hand, I heard a horrific cry come from the water. I quickly pulled it out before jamming it in again. Dark blood oozed from the first puncture wound as I pulled my blade from the creature. It retreated into the water, with more grotesque sounds emanating from the depths. I dared not approach the stern of my ship for fear of being dragged in. Instead, I stood guard at the entrance of the bunks until morning.

​

Andy was the first of my crew to emerge from the bunks; he had a look of concern and confusion on his face when he saw me. I was soaked, dark bags were under my eyes, and I still grasped my knife in my hand. I told him what had happened, and the concern on his face grew with each word I spoke. He helped me inside to warm up with the promise of keeping watch himself. He’s a good lad, but I know he doesn’t believe me. None of them do. Michael forced me to check my temperature, thinking I might have come down with some kind of illness. I assured him I was in good health, but he wasn’t so sure. Both Steve and Michael convinced me to stay in my bunk for the day to rest. Steve took charge of the radio for the day but had no luck.

​

The clock tells me it’s 20:13, but we have no real way of knowing if it truly is day or night. There is a darkness here that never lifts. A part of me had hoped that the storm might have subsided when I woke or that Steve would have luck with the radio. I must remain realistic; any other thoughts at this point are a farce. I will keep watch over our ship tonight, my crew has asked me to join them below, but they did not see what I saw. They did not hear the cries coming from the depths or see the dark blood oozing from the creature I fought off that was looking to take them into The Unfathomable Deep.

​

It will not take them; I won’t allow it. I will keep them safe, no matter the cost. A captain must do whatever he can to assure the safety of his crew. I’ve sharpened my knife, and I am as ready as I can be to fight this evil for the sake of my crew. They will not know the dark waters; I will not allow it to take them.

​

This is Captain Reynolds…signing off.

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry #8

​

The recording device turns on. As with previous entries, a severe storm can be heard raging in the background of the recording. The sounds of footsteps are heard along with Captain Reynolds talking incoherently under his breath for several minutes before he speaks clearly.

​

Captain Reynolds: I have not rested in days. My watch has yet to end. For the last few nights, the hands have come for my crew. I was able to fight them off, but there were many. Last night I counted forty-two in total. They are easily scared off with my knife, but I feel my body begin to weaken. Surely they will overwhelm me tonight. I locked my crew in the bunkhouse two days ago, they begged and pleaded with me to open the door for hours, but I will not. I must keep them safe; it’s my duty as their Captain. At night while they rest, I fight for their souls.

​

They claim to not hear any of this fighting, that I have gone mad. How can they not see? How can they not understand? I had to lock them in for their protection. Although, I must be realistic. Tonight I fear it may be my final stand against The Unfathomable Deep. The clock tells me it is 01:00; the hands will come soon. My body will fail me, and the hands will drag my crew into the dark waters for all of eternity. I will fall tonight; I’m sure of that. What else can I do? I can’t risk them helping me fight; one false move and they will be taken. I cannot allow their souls to be dragged into the dark waters; if only there was some way I could free them from this darkness we’ve found ourselves in. Someway for me to assure their souls will be spared from the hell that awaits us in The Unfathomable Deep…

​

Wait–that’s it. Yes. That’s it!

​

Captain Reynolds begins to laugh triumphantly for a few seconds.

​

It’s the only way to save them. I know what needs to be done, but I must act quickly. Before the hands come, I must assure that my crew’s souls are spared from the dark waters. This is the only way. I will save them; my duty as Captain is to do so. I will save my crew from The Unfathomable Deep.

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry #9

​

The recording device turns on. The sound of rain gently hitting a window and light wind blowing can be heard in the background throughout the recording.

​

Captain Reynolds: I did it! I was able to stop the hands from pulling my crew into the dark waters of the unfathomable deep! Their souls will rest in Fiddler’s Green. It was at a great cost, but they would understand had they been in my position. What happened was necessary to save their souls! I know they would understand if they had laid their eyes upon the hands if they saw the face, I witnessed in the water that fateful night. My crew would not have called me crazy, and Steve wouldn’t have tried to convince them to lock me in the bunkhouse before I could lock them in myself. Maybe things would have been different if they had just understood their danger.

​

The look on that salty old bastard Steve’s face when his eyes opened to see me standing over him wasn’t a look of understanding or gratitude; it was of betrayal. I looked on as he tossed himself onto the floor and tried to crawl over to the other bunks as blood poured from the wound on his throat. Steve gripped his throat and was able to stop the bleeding just enough to find Andy and Michael in their bunks, blood pooling on the floor beneath them. Neither of those boys even opened their eyes when I dragged my knife across their throats as they slept. In their final moments, they opened their eyes for a second, but there was no life behind them. Maybe they just accepted it? Perhaps they understood more than I thought? None of that mattered now; I had saved them from being dragged into the unfathomable deep.

​

Steve let out a sound not unlike an injured whale as he turned to me, falling to his back. I had known Steve for a long time, and I considered him one of my closest friends, so I helped him outside and sat with him while he took his final breath. Steve never took his eyes off me the entire time; tears rolled down his cheek as he choked on his blood. It felt like it took hours to finally take his last breath; he was always a tough son of a bitch. However, he looked away and stared at the sea as his final breath was expelled from his lungs. I laid my friend back down in his bunk and closed his eyes. They looked at peace, with no fear of being dragged under; they now knew the peace and serenity of fiddler’s green.

​

As morning came, the storm lessened in severity, no doubt a reward for saving my crew from the dreaded evil below. Now, I need to rest. My work isn’t done, but I don’t have the strength to do anything else today.

​

Recording ends.

​

It should be noted that there are several recordings of Captain Murray Reynolds talking to himself, repeating the phrase “I saved them” over and over again. This continued for approximately 7 days, as was seen on the recording device’s files. With each new recording, the storm lessens until no audible storm is heard in the background of the logs.

​

Entry #9

​

The recording device turns on. Gentle waves are heard in the background. After several minutes of a muffled voice speaking, Captain Murray Reynolds is heard screaming for approximately 10 minutes. There are no discernable words aside from “I saved them,” which he repeats.

​

Entry #10

​

The recording device turns on. For several minutes footsteps are heard rapidly approaching and then moving away from the recording device. This continues until static is heard from an unknown source.

​

Radio: Hello? Is anyone there? Captain Reynolds, do you copy? Attention, crew of The Ahab II, do you copy?

​

The above message repeats 5 times before Captain Reynolds can be heard in the distance.

​

Captain Reynolds: They’ve reached us. They’re too late. I spared my crew from the dark waters! I must tell them. Others must be warned that the legends are true!

​

Rapid footsteps are heard approaching the recording device. The click of a button is heard before Captain Reynolds speaks again.

​

Captain Reynolds: I copy. This is Captain Murray Reynolds of The Ahab II. We were attacked, but my crew was saved. We do not require any assistance.

​

Radio: Captain, what do you mean you do not require assistance? Your ship was attacked? How has your crew been saved? Are there any injuries? We have a coast guard ship heading to you; they are a few hours out but don’t worry, we’ll help you and your crew.

​

A loud thud is heard.

​

Captain Reynolds: DO YOU HAVE COTTON IN YOUR EARS, BOY?! I told you we do not need any assistance. My crew has been saved from what was attacking us. I do not need any help. Do not send anyone out into these waters; something is out there. Something very evil.

​

Radio: Captain, what are you talking about? What attacked you? Where is your crew?

​

Captain Reynolds: My crew has been saved, their souls released so they would not be dragged into the unfathomable deep. I saved them from the dark waters and granted them the paradise of Fiddlers Green. I saved them. It’s a captain’s job to protect his crew, no matter the cost.

​

There is silence for several seconds.

​

Radio: Captain, your crew. Are they alive?

​

Captain Reynolds: No, their souls have been released so they would not suffer the dark waters. I saved them. They would thank me if they could, had they seen what I saw.

​

Radio: Captain Reynolds, are you confirming that you have killed Steven Thomas, Andrew Rogers, and Michael Coopers?

​

Captain Reynolds: Killed them? No, boy. I freed them from an eternity of torment in the dark waters of the unfathomable deep. It had to be done by my hand; I was the only one who understood. I was the only one who saw the hands of the unfathomable deep. Of course, I wish it didn’t have to come to that, but I saved them. They are free from an eternity of torment. Do not send anyone here; spare them. The hands will take them and drag them into the unfathomable deep.

​

There is no response on the radio.

​

Captain Reynolds: I freed them; they will thank me one day. I’ll see them again, and they’ll thank me. They'll thank me…

​

Recording ends.

​

Entry #11

​

The recording device turns on. A gentle wind is blowing in the background as panicked breaths can be heard.

​

Captain Reynolds: I saw it again... the face of the unfathomable deep. It’s returned. Why? I saved my crew; what else could it possibly want?

​

There are several minutes of unintelligible speech along with panicked breathing.

​

Captain Reynolds: Unless...it wants...me. In sparing my crew from the dark waters, have I doomed myself? It’s looking at me... Its eyes are that of ten thousand tortured souls; I can see the suffering of so many that it has taken. Can…can it still take my crew? No. I can’t let that happen, not now, not after…what I did to them. It’s fixated on me; it wants me.

​

The sound of a chair scraping can be heard.

​

Captain Reynolds: To anyone who hears this, I plead to take my crew with you and leave these waters. Let my children know that their father died a hero, saving good men from an eternity of suffering. A hero giving the ultimate sacrifice. Tell them I love them and that…I’m sorry for everything.

​

Footsteps are heard moving away from the recording device before stopping.

​

Captain Reynolds: A good captain will always protect his men, no matter the cost. I will save them…one last time. I will let the hands of the unfathomable deep drag me under.

​

Footsteps are heard walking away from the recording device until they stop. A loud splash is heard, followed by a muffled yell and splashing in the water. A loud bellowing moan is heard; this sound's source is unclear. There is no other sound recorded for approximately 3 hours until the coast guard boat arrives.

​

Recording ends.

​

…

​

On July 13th, 2013, at approximately 09:21, the Coast Guard arrived at the location of The Ahab II to find the boat in a state of disarray. The main engine had been removed from the ship by unknown means, though it has been theorized that it was removed by another ship for scrap parts. There was a large amount of dead fish found in the live storage unit, their cause of death is yet to be determined, but it can be assumed they died due to a lack of food.

​

Several piles of fish bones were found scattered all over the ship's deck, along with human waste and dark blood of unknown origin. The Captain's cabin was in a similar state, with discarded fish bones and food spread all around. The recording device used by Captain Murray Reynolds was found; its battery was nearly depleted but was still recording when rescue crews arrived.

​

The remains of Steven Thomas, Andrew Rogers, and Michael Cooper were found in the bunkhouse of the ship. All three bodies were carefully laid in their bunks, eyes closed, and hands folded on their chests. The cause of death for all three men was blood loss due to a laceration on their throats. A large amount of blood was found near the bunkhouse entrance and near the beds of Andrew Rogers and Michael Coopers.

​

Upon review of the audio journals, finding the knife belonging to Captain Murray Reynolds, and DNA evidence, he was officially charged with the murder of all three men. It has been theorized that Murray Reynolds had a psychotic break due to the loss of his wife, and his children had contacted police for a wellness check the day before he set off for his final finishing trip. They chose not to comment on the reason but were concerned for their father’s mental well-being.

​

When the Coast Guard arrived, there was no sign of Murray Reynolds onboard with no indication of where he might be. The only evidence of what happened to him is the final recording; due to the splashing sound heard, it is assumed he took his own life by drowning. The search for Captain Murray Reynolds was called off three days after the ship was found. The Ahab II was towed back to land and is currently being held as evidence with the intention of it being given to the children of Murray Reynolds should they choose to keep it.

​

Officially, this case was ruled a triple murder-suicide. Unofficially, there is no knowledge of the unfathomable deep or the creatures described by Murray Reynolds. It may never be known what happened during the horrific storm and what exactly drove Captain Murray Reynolds to take the life of his crew and his own. Whether it was indeed a force paranormal in origin that drove him to do so or a psychotic break. The body of Captain Murray Reynolds has never been found and the source of the loud bellow heard near the end of the final recording, has yet to be identified.