Den hedervärde Gustav Badin och det okristna trollet - Dokument S-1517

Classified document S-1517

Type: Letter
Stated Author: Gustav Badin (1750-1822), addressed to Thomas Paine (1737-1809)
Date: 17UU-UU-UU

Thomas, I’m writing to you now of a tale I myself scarcely believe. Perhaps, I feel, if I relay it to
you, I might happen upon some clarity for myself. It’s the only thing I can think to do.

On my latest excursion into Norrland , the northern part of Sweden, all seemed to be going well, until a specific night when I was awoken by the most unusual sound. Almost a crunching, the sounds of some great beast that had found a midnight meal. Immediately my mind told me a bear had wandered into our encampment, so I stood, gathered my rifle, and called out for my guide, Klemet. There were only heavy footsteps, on the other side of camp. I waited, and waited so long it became clear that I would be receiving no response from my guide, so rifle in hand I left the tent to attend to him. I would not find him. Not in one piece, at least. I looked down at what could only have happened with sinister intent.

My guide Klemet was surely dead, his body strewn before me in several different piles, of the most gruesome nature. I inspected it clearly, I began to believe it could not have been a
bear (as so much was present, and had I come across a bear, it would certainly have attacked
me to defend such a feast). Not a moment later my fears were realized, as a laugh ran through
the clearing where my guide’s remains were found. A laugh such that I have never heard in my
life. An actor seeking to portray the cruel mirth of the biblical serpent, would kill for a laugh as horrible as what I heard in that forest. I’m still surprised I was not overtaken with heart spasms from hearing it, for I also saw the shadowy silutes of the thing laughing.

This was no bear, even though it would rival any such animal in size. I could not make out details of the ugly misshapen thing, nor did I wish to.
I ran Thomas, I turned and moved my legs as fast as they could. I found my horse, and that of Klement, had been slaughtered as he was, in much the same way.
And so, I resigned to run some more. I knew the route to the nearest village, the one we were planning on reaching at the start of this day. Having set out the route with the guide myself the night before, navigation to this destination was not difficult - for I new the path from our encampment to the village was straight as a gunshot. I also hoped I could manage the distance, seeing as I am a fair runner.

I was able to make it without issues to the village. And now, for a confession.
As you are already aware of my explorative nature, my propensity to poke my nose into
such oddities of creation, I’m sure you are also aware of where I am going with this. For many
months the court has been sitting on a series of rumors, tales of great beasts that roamed the
Norrlands - a mythical troll. It was indeed those very rumors that brought myself here.

I should note that dear princess Sophia did not ask me to do so, though it was she that inspired my decision. I intended not just to
explore the rumors, but if found to be true, to bring her back non-debatable evidence of such. Or, the troll itself.

I know this might sound mad, but I’ve always been of the opinion that there
had to be some kernel of truth to fantastical tales out there, and this seemed to be the time and place where such a kernel made itself ready for true men to find it.

When I came to the small town, I ran straight to the biggest street, comforted by the sight
of civilization. Not long after a lady approached me, causing me further relief. Although I was glad to see a human, I was not glad at the actions this huma decided to take. She pulled from her gown a cross on string, and after marching as close to me as she dared, held it to my forehead and attempted to command the devil out of me using the Lord’s
Prayer.

I asked the good lady if there was a matter she needed assistance with, for lack of
anything else to say. I was not expecting this that night, and my wits were only barely, though
miraculously, intact. It was an odd inquiry I would later think. for me to make of her, me having
been the one to come flying into her town in a panic.

Her only response was to speak to the devil appeared in me (which I am so
disappointed I’d never been told about).

She cried, >>YOU DEVIL! BE GONE FROM THIS MAN! BY THE NAME OF JESUS
CHRIST I COMMAND THEE!>I can’t leave no manWHAT?>Are you running from something?>Not a trade, a betYou have until the sun sets to get you as far away as you can, and afterwards, you are fair game to him once moreNOW!

Staffan Marklund

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