DATE: May 14, 19xx
LOCATION: Eztez, Switzerland
PRESENT: E. Isbell (Head Technician)
                N. Lamontia (Assistant)
            M. Jones (Technician, Manipulator)
                C. Maynard (Labor)
                M. Maynard (Psychic)
            C. Reider (Guide)
            Disney (Bait)
                       Material Check Out Sheet
                       Field Tapes 120-121

JUSTIFICATION: As is well documented, Miriam Maynard
has long beleaguered us with her suggestions of sites that she
feels are inhabited and therefore need investigation. Despite
her dubious skills, she was extremely tenacious in her desire to
have us investigate a site not far from Bern, where her
‘colleagues’ said they had felt presences at some point. Taken
aback by her higher-than-usual agitation, we decided to humor
her on a lark. The site of which she had mentioned was not far
from where the Paranormal Symposium was taking place, and,
therefore, most of the necessary manpower and equipment
was on hand to conduct a proper field investigation.  Very
little by way of out-of-pocket expenses was incurred (Mrs.
Maynard traveled to Bern using her own funds). The date was
set for the evening of May 8.  
BACKGROUND: After acquiring the necessary equipment
and volunteers (and hiring an inexpensive coach), Mrs.
Maynard (in her typical fashion) claimed to have forgotten
the exact location, offering instead a vague direction. Making
our way in that general direction, we soon came across the
village of Eztez (approximately 3 miles NNE from Bern). At
a local gentlemen’s establishment, we were able to procure an
older guide named C. Reider, who proved to be not only an
expert on the area, but also a bit of a hobbyist in the field of
paranormal recordings. Praising our good fortune, we made
our way into the mild weather some time before dusk. Based
on the shreds of information Mrs. Maynard had given him,
Mr. Reider was able to determine (in quick fashion) the area
that she was speaking of. During the ride to the site, Mr.
Reider gave us details of the site:  
    Mariz Lake is situated on a plateau about 2 ½ miles SSW
of Eztez, and up a treacherous road with a very steep incline.
The plateau itself is ringed by many high peaks, creating a
volcanic effect. The plateau covers an area of approximately
2 square miles, with the lake located dead center, but only
covering an area of approximately 1 square mile with many
coves and inlets. The plateau itself is extremely desolate and
mostly devoid of vegetation, except for an area on the
western rim, which is actually extremely lush with all
varieties of evergreen trees and shrubs. It seems logical, then,
that some entrepreneur from times past chose to put a lodge
Mariz Lake Lodge (according to Mr. Reider) had been
standing since at least the mid 1800’s. It had been an exclusive
tourist destination for some years, before an unexplained fire
gutted the northern half of it sometime around 1900 to a great
loss of life. The lodge still stood, and from the outside it
looked to be perfectly stable, if a bit run-down. (Personal
note: I can understand why it would have been such a popular
destination. Granted, we only saw the exterior and the
surrounding vista by waning sunlight, but the impression I got
from the area was one of absolute beauty and majesty.) Mr.
Reider went on to tell us that the fire, though unexplained, did
not deter other entrepreneurs from attempting to refurbish the
lodge and reopen it. For various reasons, however, no such
plan ever reached fruition, and the lodge has stood vacant for
the better part of four decades.
     Mr. Reider stated that he had heard numerous ‘ghost
stories’ about the lake and lodge, but also stated that such
stories are common in remote area such as this. He went so
far as to say that he had come to the lodge at one time (though
not daring to go inside!) to make recordings of his own, but
nothing of any interest presented itself.
     The one tale we were able to pry out of him was this (see
Transcript/Reel 80517 for the complete version):
     When he was a youth, two friends of his (he called them
Brand and Gregor) ventured to the lodge on All Hollow’s Eve.
They had done so on a dare, and if they were able to spend
the night at the lodge, there was some promise of a reward
from their cronies who had put them up to the hijinks.
Believing themselves up themselves up to the task, they set
out, arriving at the lodge some time before midnight. After
some dilly-dallying, they decided to enter the lodge through
the front door that leads into the lobby. Gregor turned the
knob, and opened the door. Almost immediately, he recoiled
from the threshold with a scream and a start, and rushed back
to where they had left their horses. Brand could not convince
his friend to stop until they had made their way back to the
village, and were safely inside Gregor’s house. He could not
pry a single word from his shaken friend. After a brief time,
Gregor was at least able to open up his shirt front, and there,
to their disbelief, was a three-fingered handprint, red and
raised on his chest. It was never spoken of again, and his
family moved from the area soon after, and were never seen
    Inspired by his tale, we duly set up a base camp in a
copse of trees beside a path that went from the steps of the
lodge to the lake’s shore. From our vantagepoint, we could
see both the lake and the lodge quite clearly, should anything
paranormal occur.   We were all pleased that the weather was
so mild, because we were unable to start a fire, for fear of
driving away any specimens (also, we did not plan on
spending the night. No reward for us!). Additionally, a full
moon began to appear over one of the peaks (The Devils’
Backbone, Mr. Reider said it was named), providing us with
ample light to see.
    Mr. Maynard, after setting up our equipment, was
instructed to take his wife for a walk around the lake, under
the auspices of romance.
In reality, it was to get her away from our camp, as our
equipment was beginning to act faulty, and Disney nearly
dissipated totally once it was clear of The Breach. Mr. Jones
busied himself with Mr. Reider, interested in his lore of the
area, as well as the flask he was carrying (I would assume). In
the meantime, Mr. Lamontia set up a directional mike
towards the lodge, and I set out a small RS Dictaphone mike
towards the lake.
   Time passed in this fashion for some time, and Mr. Reider
for his part began to get antsy. He began to offer feeble
excuses to get off of the mountain. Disney started to feedback
off of Mr. Reider’s discomfort, and I believe that reaction
served as a catalyst for the next series of events.
SYNOPSIS:  Mr. Reider had been pacing in front of a small
stand of aspen trees and had seemingly turned his head
towards Disney when it started to feedback. What I took as a
subconscious movement actually proved to be anything but:
as Mr. Reider’s head remained frozen and cocked to one side,
I saw the faint, dark outline of a three-fingered hand covering
his mouth. This hand had apparently rent his head to one side
and kept it there. I then saw the dark outline of another three-
fingered hand draw its index finger across Mr. Reider’s
exposed throat. In no time at all, blood began to run from the
wound, which seemed to be burning as well. I was almost
knocked over by Mr. Lamontia, who rushed by me with a
small specimen jar, and quickly put it to Mr. Reider’s throat,
catching blood. I grabbed my mike and thrust it over Mr.
Reider’s right shoulder, where I presumed the specter’s head
to be.
Mr. Reider was gurgling horribly at this time, and Mr.
Lamontia had the foresight to take his hand-held recorder from
his pocket and place it to Mr. Reider’s lips, cursing mildly as
he spat blood and foam upon it.   
  Luckily for Mr. Reider, the Maynards arrived just then,
having heard the commotion. Mr. Maynard rushed to the
struggle, pushing Mr. Reider to the ground and away from the
specter. This action left the apparition in full view: it was
approximately 6 feet tall, shrouded in a brownish/black veil,
with a face that seemed to be made up of numerous faces, all
in a state of constant and spasmodic motion. The contact with
its prey severed, it cackled evilly and rose to approximately
15 feet in the air, then, in a rapid motion, made for the lodge.
It lit on one of the upper eaves before passing through a wall
next to a pair of French doors.                    
  I turned to Mr. Reider to assess his condition. Mr. Maynard
was pressing a cloth to Mr. Reider’s neck, at the same time
pushing Mr. Lamontia away (he was still trying to collect
blood samples). Mr. Lamontia had apparently passed some of
the blood to Mr. Jones, as he was busy with the X26, and
was heard to say excitedly, “There’s a ghost in the blood!”.
Mrs. Maynard was nowhere to be found at this time, but I
surmised she wasn’t in the area, since Disney was still in its
confines, listlessly jabbing its stumps against the mesh.
  After determining the Mr. Reider was to survive, we decided
on the following plan: Mr. Maynard was to stay with Mr.
Reider and to keep him stable. Mr. Lamontia was to continue
processing the samples, and record the tapes to disc.
Mr. Jones and I armed ourselves with two microphones, as
well as the Pandora, and decided to enter the lodge and find the
room with the French doors, in the hopes that the specter was
still there.
 I turned the knob on the front door, almost expecting to be
pressed back as the youth had been some years before. The
door opened easily (if loudly) and I encountered no
opposition. The moonlight was not passing through the grimy
windows, so we lit our lanterns and made our way to a
staircase in the far right hand corner of the lobby, assuming
that the room we were seeking was on the second floor,
directly above us. The lobby had apparently not suffered any
ill effects from the fire, as it was in generally good condition.
The years had taken their toll, but there was no sign of fire
damage or even smell. Curiously, the lobby was still furnished,
though in various states of disrepair.         
 We did not see or hear anything untoward during our walk to
the staircase. Actually, the silence was almost overwhelming,
save for the whir of our recorders.
 Eventually, we made our way to the stairs and the second
floor landing. As we turned to the right, we were faced with a
distorted mirror image, as well as a burning stench: on the left
side of the hall was a seemingly endless line of doors, spaced
evenly and battered slightly by time. On the right was the
same configuration, however here the effects of the fire were
startling. The spacing of the doors was the same as across the
hall, but there were gaping, blackened holes in the some of the
walls between, apparently where the fire had burnt through.
Paper was peeled and charred from the walls.
The ornate carpeting was burnt through in places to reveal
blackened wood flooring. Upon closer inspection, we saw a
set of footprints in the dust and soot, leading from the landing
to a door halfway down the hall on the left side.
We made our way cautiously to the door, pausing for a
moment to listen. We were somewhat taken aback to hear
Mrs. Maynard voice coming from the other side, talking softly
and pleading with something. Mr. Jones, in his irritation, burst
through the door to confront her. I followed right after and
found Mrs. Maynard to my left, and the nearly-dissipated
spirit of a child to my right seated in a rocking chair. The child
looked like it may have been 5 years old in life, though its sex
was difficult to determine; the whole of the sprit was in
agitation, vibrating terribly, and every so often expanding to
double its size and taking on the appearance of the monster we
saw outside. Mr. Jones, in his wisdom, grabbed an
argumentative Mrs. Maynard forcibly by the arm and forced
her into the hallway, slamming the door on her. Her entreaties
soon faded away as we heard her footsteps go down the hall
towards the staircase.
Mr. Jones and myself, alone with this spirit, set to the task
almost immediately. I slid my microphone under the rocking
chair (experiencing no opposition from the child, who had
settled down since Mrs. Maynard’s exit; in its unagitated
state, it was the ghost of a girl), and Mr. Jones suspended his
over the chair, using an exposed piece of wire as an
With the remote lab set, we stood patiently and waited for
the apparition to make a sound.
It made none, save for the creaking of the rocking chair it was
moving back and forth. Impatient after a few minutes, I stood
in the doorway to the water closet and lit a cigarette. As I lit
the match, the spirit wailed, assumed its more malevolent
form, and sped at me. Removing myself quickly to the floor,
the spirit passed over my head and into the water closet, the
door slamming behind it. As I rose and turned to the door, the
door itself seemed to turn to glass, and images began to play
on it, as in a motion picture. I rose to my feet and stood in
front of the door, while Mr. Jones gathered his suspended
mike and placed it on the floor at my feet.
Sadly, the motion picture had no sound (for the most part),
but we did see quite a bit:
We first saw the exterior of the lodge at night, and a shadowed
figure approaching what I assumed to be the rear, or west, of
the lodge. The lodge appeared to be occupied, as a few
windows could been seen fully lit. The shadowy figure
rummaged through its coats for a moment, then a spark could
be seen, and soon a bundle of something was seen being tossed
into an open window by the shadowy figure, who ran off into
the night, but not before passing in front of a lit window: it
was plain that the shadowy figure was a younger Mr. Reider.
The picture then changed, now looking into the window into
which the flaming bundle was sent. Nothing was seen for a
moment, then a small figure could be seen coming towards the
window, coughing and staggering. As the figure approached the
window, it was plain to see that the figure was the girl whom
we had just seen in her ghostly form.
She tried to open the window, as the way to the door was
blocked by the spreading flames. The flames spread closer to
the child, and Mr. Jones and I both turned our heads as the
flames met the child, and the only sound from the film issued
forth: the high, piercing scream of a child, which I would
prefer never to hear again.
As the scream faded, we turned back to the door, to find that
it had returned to its normal, closed state. We could, however,
hear a child crying on the other side. I slowly opened the door,
but neither of us could find anything inside, other than the
usual accoutrements. The crying continued unabated, but duly
We were at that time assaulted by a heavy burning smell. At
first we assumed the smell was in some way associated with
the phantasmagoria we had just seen, then realized that what
we were smelling was no illusion; the lodge was on fire!
We quickly made our exit down the stairs and out the front
door, the heat, smoke and flames becoming more oppressive
with every step. As we arrived outside, we found Mrs.
Maynard kneeling at the side of her apparently unconscious
husband and Disney frantic in his mesh. Shouting for Mr.
Reider and Mr. Lamontia, we began to hear screams from the
southern end of the lodge, and the sounds of Mr. Lamontia
yelling, “More emotion!” (the recordings back this claim). Mr.
Jones and I rushed to the voices, and found Mr. Lamontia
suspending a boom mike over the burning form of Mr. Reider.
The lodge was nearly engulfed at this point, as was Mr. Reider.

As we came upon them, Mr. Reider was standing, but he then
fell to his knees as his screams stopped, then eventually fell
completely to the ground. To our astonishment, Mr. Reider’s
corpse was then dragged into the lodge by an unseen person,
eventually disappearing into the conflagration.

CONCLUSION: After we compared notes, it became
apparent that while three of us were inside with the spirit,
and Mr. Lamontia under the headphones, Mr. Reider
somehow knocked Mr. Maynard unconscious* (he has since
fully recovered) and started the blaze at the lodge, for the
second time it would appear. His motivations for both blazes
remain unknown to us, and it is obviously impossible to ask
him personally. Logically, it would seem that the spirit of the
girl exacted her revenge on Mr. Reider by dragging him into
the fire. It appears to be a hollow effort, though, since Mr.
Reider was quite obviously dead before it got a hold of him. I
do have my suspicions that if Mr. Reider were alive, we
would find a three-fingered handprint scar on his chest, but
this is just conjecture.
Mr. Lamontia vaguely stated that once he found Mr.
Maynard unconscious and Mr. Reider missing, he went to the
far side of the lodge to find Mr. Reider already burning, and as
Mr. Reider was trying to douse his flames, he accidentally
ignited the brittle building. It is conceivable, then, that the
spirit caused Mr. Reider to immolate. That does not explain
why he knocked Mr. Maynard unconscious, though.  
Many mysteries remain from this adventure, however
approximately 2 hours of tapes remain as well, and I feel it
was a worthwhile study. On a personal note, I think it is a
step in the right direction: we only lost one person on this
excursion, and it was not even one of our own personnel!
Hopefully a continuing trend!

            E. Isbell, Head Of Research

*ADDENDUM: Some years later, Mr. Maynard divulged to
a source close to HSL that Mr. Reider had NOT knocked him
unconscious. Rather, while he was tending to his wounds,
Mr. Maynard stole the injured’s flask, and continued to drink
until he fell and hit his head on a rock. This would add
credence to the theory that the spirit immolated Mr. Reider,
and he started the lodge blaze by running about on fire.
Perhaps the ghost DID enact her revenge after all (?).