JollyApe
01-31-2005, 07:43 AM
Slayer – Myth or Reality
introduction and translations by Prof. Andrew Shortland
A few years back I first came in contact with a series of urban legends about something called the Slayer. At first I just dismissed it as just another one in a bunch of unbelievable, crude and often entertaining stories that spread from one generation of students to another. However after hearing it a couple of times from different students and from a few of my scholarly colleagues the story of the Slayer captured me. First of all it has got a deeper mythology and history than any other urban legend I have ever heard. Another thing that caught my attention was the fact that the story was dated. I have heard the story being told in many ways and forms, but they are all taking place during the year of 1992. After a very interesting discussion I had with my students I have come to be fascinated by the escapism and depth of the story itself and I have decided to examine the origin of the legend about the Slayer. One boy in every generation with the strength and skill to hunt and punish the Killers. This slayer is known as Charlie Anderson and was according to the legends born and raised and active in a small town called Trollhättan in Sweden (Christie 2001). In the words of Jonathan Clark (2002), the story about the Slayer is a story about a young boy with almost supernatural powers who dedicated his life to fighting crime and evil and who at a very young age laid down his life in order to save those closest to him.
Even though I have never been able to find any records confirming the existence of Charlie Anderson I have in fact found the death-certificate of a certain Åsa Lindström born on the 15th of April in 1976 in Trollhättan and who died on the 2nd of November in 1992. Her death was investigated by the local police who finally dropped all suspicions of crime. I have done my best to try to link this Åsa to Charlie Anderson, but in vain. Somehow the school records from the schools, which Åsa attended, are all missing. My attempts to locate the Lindström family today have them as well all been in vain. Somehow it seems as if all links to Charlie Anderson have been severed. I have also searched the records after a reference to a Charlie Anderson either born in the 70’s or died around November, December 1992 and my investigations gave me nothing. Unfortunately the surname Anderson is the most popular in Sweden, which does not facilitate my investigation.
At this point it might be appropriate to mention the theory of one of my Swedish colleges. Anna Windahl Professor of Modern Literature at University of Uppsala claims, a contrary to popular belief that the Slayer was in fact a girl named Charlotta Anderson and that Charlie was nothing but a nickname. When taking this information into account you should also be aware of the political and social climate of Sweden not just today, but back in 1992 as well (Grahame 1995:23). I am not narrow-minded in any way and I gladly continued my investigation from another perspective. However the name of Charlotta Anderson did not give me any more information than Charlie Anderson and having conducted a translation of the fragments of the allegeable journal of Charlie Anderson and by reading and listening to everything I have been able to get my hands and ears on I am convinced that the theory of a female Slayer is nothing, but a product of a society striving towards equality. The notion of a female Slayer is simply to far fetched.
Professor Andrew Shortland Seattle, Washington 01/30/2005
The surving fragments of the journal of the Slayer Charlie Anderson
03/13/92
So here’s the truth, the ugly naked truth. I was never popular, never cleaver enough, never good enough in any sport and I was never good looking. I was born peculiar and I was rather certain that I would die the way I entered life. I haven’t really thought about it until...perhaps that’s a lie I’ve been thinking about it for quite a while now. I can’t help it, but it hurts. I don’t think I ever wanted to be normal and I’m not going to spend any energy on trying to become normal and fit into this screwed up world. I just wish that I could take my soul and move it somewhere else, I like my soul and I don’t want to destroy it, but I can’t survive in a town like ours with it. I mean there has to be something more than this, it’s all too...too mundane. It just hurts too much.
05/5/92
He’s told me to stop writing. I guess I should do as he tells me after all he is my Protector, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Sometimes I think that nothing has changed and that I am still in my room playing music and that somehow the pain has won and that I have gone insane, but then again I keep pinching myself and it hurts. Mainly because of the million and one bruises I seem to be constantly covered in. Good thing that I never did like showing off my legs.
I think mom thinks I’m depressed or something. Good thing dad doesn’t know what to do and keep blaming puberty. Remind me if I ever get to hell to thank Goethe for that word, or perhaps inventing a thing like that makes you get into heaven. Don’t know, but I do know that there isn’t any chance for me to get into heaven (if there even is such a thing) with all the lying. At first I didn’t mind, but I am starting to feel bad when I time after time tell the same lies. I wish I could at least be honest to my sister or my friends. But big oh no, that’s the first rule in the Protector’s handbook never let your Slayer have friends or family and it’s an absolute oh no about telling them what you are.
08/27/92
Yeah it’s so nice to be back in school, to meet all of your “friends” and hear about their perfect holidays and how much fun they’ve had. Yeah it’s SO much fun. Let’s see what have I done this summer, let’s think. Ah yes just like all other teenagers I have slept all day and stayed up all night, but not so much with the partying as with the slaying. While my friends keep drinking bear and doing other irresponsible and entertaining things teenagers are supposed to do I have been slaying vampires and a Sloth demon (ed’s comment; Vampire and Sloth demon are the literal translations. However the more correct translation might be Blood sheeders such as killers and Sloth could very well be a more literate form of apathy). And the nasty cut that one vamp gave me on me cheek makes such a lovely scar, I feel so beautiful. Man this sucks.
08/30/92
I just thought that I should write that for once have actually had a normal day, or at least my type of normal. I spent my entire Sunday in Samuel’s basement playing D&D with Samuel, Joakim and Åsa. When you know the things that I know the entire role-playing thing becomes different. It’s quite nice to be able to be in a battle without having to need stitches or having to wash my own or someone or thing else’s blood from out of my clothes. For once just be a normal, if somewhat geeky teenager. Slayer or no Slayer I will always be a geek and that I’m proud of, most of the time anyway.
10/16/92
I think Åsa knows that there’s something going on with me. I’ve done my best to keep them out of it and to hide the fact that I keep seeing them from Archie, but the other night I think she followed me. We’d been at Samuel’s place as we usually are and after diner I said I had to leave, because my parents wanted me to be home so that we could have a family night and all that. I guess I’m not such a good liar or perhaps it was just a very bad lie. Anyway she followed me to Archie’s place. And she asked me a truckload of questions that I couldn’t answer. I finally cracked and said something about feeling sorry for all Archie all alone in that house and that my family somehow knew him and well it was just a tangled messy web of lies and I know she didn’t believe me. Of course I had to leave and when I got back later I got this speech from Archie about how dangerous it is to involve your friends and yata, yata, yata death, yata, yata, responsibility yata, yata. I so did not need that.
11/3/92
The f'cker is so fu'king dead. I am going to kill him like a million times and then I’ll resuscitate the bastard so that I can kill him some more. Archie keeps telling my how bad this bastard is and how I should beware and that he is very powerful, but screw Archie and the Protectors council and all their stuffy books and screw the whole fu'king world. This bastard killed my friend. He killed Åsa and there was nothing I could do. I saw how he snapped her neck and before that I heard her begging for her life and all I could do was to hide. He killed her. She’s dead and she’s not coming back. I’m not special, I’m not important, I’m just a big freak that can’t even protect my own friends. He killed her, she was my friend and I love her. I can’t just sit and wait him out while he keeps killing the ones I love. I swear I won’t let him get anywhere near Samuel or Joakim. He is going to pay for what he did to Åsa. We keep believing that life is precious and special and that there is something besides us, something bigger, something nice, but there’s not. There’s just death, that’s all. Åsa is dead and I will never see her again and that’s all there is to it.
I should have listened to Archie. A Slayer shouldn’t have friends ...or family. Come to think of it no one should.
THE END
__________________________________________________ _______________
Charlotta ‘Charlie’ Anderson activated on the 04/9/1992
by Watcher Archibald McArthur.
Terminated on the 4th of November 1992
by a Nos’Rep demon.
__________________________________________________ _______________
introduction and translations by Prof. Andrew Shortland
A few years back I first came in contact with a series of urban legends about something called the Slayer. At first I just dismissed it as just another one in a bunch of unbelievable, crude and often entertaining stories that spread from one generation of students to another. However after hearing it a couple of times from different students and from a few of my scholarly colleagues the story of the Slayer captured me. First of all it has got a deeper mythology and history than any other urban legend I have ever heard. Another thing that caught my attention was the fact that the story was dated. I have heard the story being told in many ways and forms, but they are all taking place during the year of 1992. After a very interesting discussion I had with my students I have come to be fascinated by the escapism and depth of the story itself and I have decided to examine the origin of the legend about the Slayer. One boy in every generation with the strength and skill to hunt and punish the Killers. This slayer is known as Charlie Anderson and was according to the legends born and raised and active in a small town called Trollhättan in Sweden (Christie 2001). In the words of Jonathan Clark (2002), the story about the Slayer is a story about a young boy with almost supernatural powers who dedicated his life to fighting crime and evil and who at a very young age laid down his life in order to save those closest to him.
Even though I have never been able to find any records confirming the existence of Charlie Anderson I have in fact found the death-certificate of a certain Åsa Lindström born on the 15th of April in 1976 in Trollhättan and who died on the 2nd of November in 1992. Her death was investigated by the local police who finally dropped all suspicions of crime. I have done my best to try to link this Åsa to Charlie Anderson, but in vain. Somehow the school records from the schools, which Åsa attended, are all missing. My attempts to locate the Lindström family today have them as well all been in vain. Somehow it seems as if all links to Charlie Anderson have been severed. I have also searched the records after a reference to a Charlie Anderson either born in the 70’s or died around November, December 1992 and my investigations gave me nothing. Unfortunately the surname Anderson is the most popular in Sweden, which does not facilitate my investigation.
At this point it might be appropriate to mention the theory of one of my Swedish colleges. Anna Windahl Professor of Modern Literature at University of Uppsala claims, a contrary to popular belief that the Slayer was in fact a girl named Charlotta Anderson and that Charlie was nothing but a nickname. When taking this information into account you should also be aware of the political and social climate of Sweden not just today, but back in 1992 as well (Grahame 1995:23). I am not narrow-minded in any way and I gladly continued my investigation from another perspective. However the name of Charlotta Anderson did not give me any more information than Charlie Anderson and having conducted a translation of the fragments of the allegeable journal of Charlie Anderson and by reading and listening to everything I have been able to get my hands and ears on I am convinced that the theory of a female Slayer is nothing, but a product of a society striving towards equality. The notion of a female Slayer is simply to far fetched.
Professor Andrew Shortland Seattle, Washington 01/30/2005
The surving fragments of the journal of the Slayer Charlie Anderson
03/13/92
So here’s the truth, the ugly naked truth. I was never popular, never cleaver enough, never good enough in any sport and I was never good looking. I was born peculiar and I was rather certain that I would die the way I entered life. I haven’t really thought about it until...perhaps that’s a lie I’ve been thinking about it for quite a while now. I can’t help it, but it hurts. I don’t think I ever wanted to be normal and I’m not going to spend any energy on trying to become normal and fit into this screwed up world. I just wish that I could take my soul and move it somewhere else, I like my soul and I don’t want to destroy it, but I can’t survive in a town like ours with it. I mean there has to be something more than this, it’s all too...too mundane. It just hurts too much.
05/5/92
He’s told me to stop writing. I guess I should do as he tells me after all he is my Protector, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Sometimes I think that nothing has changed and that I am still in my room playing music and that somehow the pain has won and that I have gone insane, but then again I keep pinching myself and it hurts. Mainly because of the million and one bruises I seem to be constantly covered in. Good thing that I never did like showing off my legs.
I think mom thinks I’m depressed or something. Good thing dad doesn’t know what to do and keep blaming puberty. Remind me if I ever get to hell to thank Goethe for that word, or perhaps inventing a thing like that makes you get into heaven. Don’t know, but I do know that there isn’t any chance for me to get into heaven (if there even is such a thing) with all the lying. At first I didn’t mind, but I am starting to feel bad when I time after time tell the same lies. I wish I could at least be honest to my sister or my friends. But big oh no, that’s the first rule in the Protector’s handbook never let your Slayer have friends or family and it’s an absolute oh no about telling them what you are.
08/27/92
Yeah it’s so nice to be back in school, to meet all of your “friends” and hear about their perfect holidays and how much fun they’ve had. Yeah it’s SO much fun. Let’s see what have I done this summer, let’s think. Ah yes just like all other teenagers I have slept all day and stayed up all night, but not so much with the partying as with the slaying. While my friends keep drinking bear and doing other irresponsible and entertaining things teenagers are supposed to do I have been slaying vampires and a Sloth demon (ed’s comment; Vampire and Sloth demon are the literal translations. However the more correct translation might be Blood sheeders such as killers and Sloth could very well be a more literate form of apathy). And the nasty cut that one vamp gave me on me cheek makes such a lovely scar, I feel so beautiful. Man this sucks.
08/30/92
I just thought that I should write that for once have actually had a normal day, or at least my type of normal. I spent my entire Sunday in Samuel’s basement playing D&D with Samuel, Joakim and Åsa. When you know the things that I know the entire role-playing thing becomes different. It’s quite nice to be able to be in a battle without having to need stitches or having to wash my own or someone or thing else’s blood from out of my clothes. For once just be a normal, if somewhat geeky teenager. Slayer or no Slayer I will always be a geek and that I’m proud of, most of the time anyway.
10/16/92
I think Åsa knows that there’s something going on with me. I’ve done my best to keep them out of it and to hide the fact that I keep seeing them from Archie, but the other night I think she followed me. We’d been at Samuel’s place as we usually are and after diner I said I had to leave, because my parents wanted me to be home so that we could have a family night and all that. I guess I’m not such a good liar or perhaps it was just a very bad lie. Anyway she followed me to Archie’s place. And she asked me a truckload of questions that I couldn’t answer. I finally cracked and said something about feeling sorry for all Archie all alone in that house and that my family somehow knew him and well it was just a tangled messy web of lies and I know she didn’t believe me. Of course I had to leave and when I got back later I got this speech from Archie about how dangerous it is to involve your friends and yata, yata, yata death, yata, yata, responsibility yata, yata. I so did not need that.
11/3/92
The f'cker is so fu'king dead. I am going to kill him like a million times and then I’ll resuscitate the bastard so that I can kill him some more. Archie keeps telling my how bad this bastard is and how I should beware and that he is very powerful, but screw Archie and the Protectors council and all their stuffy books and screw the whole fu'king world. This bastard killed my friend. He killed Åsa and there was nothing I could do. I saw how he snapped her neck and before that I heard her begging for her life and all I could do was to hide. He killed her. She’s dead and she’s not coming back. I’m not special, I’m not important, I’m just a big freak that can’t even protect my own friends. He killed her, she was my friend and I love her. I can’t just sit and wait him out while he keeps killing the ones I love. I swear I won’t let him get anywhere near Samuel or Joakim. He is going to pay for what he did to Åsa. We keep believing that life is precious and special and that there is something besides us, something bigger, something nice, but there’s not. There’s just death, that’s all. Åsa is dead and I will never see her again and that’s all there is to it.
I should have listened to Archie. A Slayer shouldn’t have friends ...or family. Come to think of it no one should.
THE END
__________________________________________________ _______________
Charlotta ‘Charlie’ Anderson activated on the 04/9/1992
by Watcher Archibald McArthur.
Terminated on the 4th of November 1992
by a Nos’Rep demon.
__________________________________________________ _______________