Caldwell 92 New Army
CALDWELL 92 NEW ARMY (See also, CALDWELL PAX, REVOLVERS) The Caldwell 92 New Army was developed by the Caldwell Arms Company as requested by the US Military. After 20 years of using the reliable Caldwell Pax, many soldiers were not satisfied with the weaker shot of the New Army's .38 bullets. But despite its lack of power, the highlight of this double-action revolver is its distinguished counter-clockwise rotating cylinder that swings out to allow for an effortless reload. Fast, light, and easy to handle, it was adopted not only by the US Army and Navy but also by police departments throughout the country.
Letter found in the uniform of a guard from Pelican Island Prison
Author: "Theo"(Surname unknown)
Undated
Torn paper, handwritten, 8.5'x 5.7"
Dear Abbie,
I wish I had the strength to write you happy lies because Lord knows I already caused you and Mama enough suffering for a lifetime. But I beg you to spare me your kindness once more, for I fear this is my last chance to expel these demons before they're buried with me
Something unholy happens between these walls. I have not seen it with my own eyes, but we all know it to be true. The guards come to collect us at night break when our bodies are weak and spent from a day's worth of steady toil. No one knows how they choose, but they come with their minds already made. They snatch a man from his bedsheets and haul his struggling body from his cell. If the poor fellow manages to break free, they'll have their Caldwells ready to aim for his knees
They disappear down to the basement, where the Warden lives. He never comes to the cells, but I swear I can see him when I try to sleep. A long face with hollow cheeks and a darting tongue that grows fat from our misery and fear.
For hours straight, we can hear nothing but pain. We try to sleep through the first muffled whimpers. We awake before dawn with the enraged yells. We wash down our scraps of food with pleading sobs. We tend to work in the rhythm of agonizing howls. When we're back to bed, the silence comes. And we wish for the screams to return because our selfish souls fear we might be next.
One of the guards has taken pity on me, for whichever reason I could not tell you. He promised me he'll see that this letter reaches you, and I can only hope he's sincere. He shows me kindness and offers solace on the hardest of days. Has even made me laugh once. It's fleeting and useless, but it's the only thing keeping me sane in this wretched place.
But despite his good intentions, I'm afraid my friend has sealed my fate. I've noticed the other guards giving us odd looks, and I hear their whispers stop when I look their way.
I'm not afraid of dying, Abbie. But no sin is evil enough to deserve what happens in that basement. Forever your little brother,
Theo
Notes on the Investigation
Handwritten, author unknown
November, 1897
As curious and intellectually thrilling as it may have been, the incident has been regarded as an unsolvable mystery even by the most famous investigators of New York, among whom my former mentor and colleague cut his teeth and learned the trade of mystery solving.
Although he was devilishly talented in the art of investigation, he lacked the mental diligence our profession required. I sometimes even wondered as to whether it was the very reason why he kept me by his side. It's not important anymore though; may he rest in peace
While going through his belongings the previous night, I came across his notes and sketches he relied upon during the investigation at Pelican Island Prison, Louisiana. I must admit, some of the writings he stumbled upon on the walls of certain prison cells rekindled my curiosity as they all point at the infamous basement of the Prison. Is it possible that they are linked to the rumors locals have reported since 1894?
To study them further in the future, should the opportunity arise of course, I've included the most cryptic writings in this dossier.
Cell 33
HELL MUST BE HERE MUST BE
WHER DEMONS LURK AND SINNERS SCREEEM
LORD YOU THERE BELOW TOO I KNOW YES I KNOW
Cell 27
SMELLS BLOOD ROT DECAY MOLDY FLESH
NIGHT CAME HOUNDS HUNGRY HOWL
CRUNCH AND MUNCH AND BITE AND SCRATCH
NO MORE NO MORE NO MORE NO MORE
Cell 57
GHOSTS SCREAM
I HATE THEYR SCREAM
THEYL LOVE WHEN I SCREAM
Cell 47
I HEAR THEM AGAIN SHAMING ME
I NEED HER TO KNOW AND SHE WILL SOON
PLEASE GOD LET IT REACH HER
