 Welcome to Paranormality Magazine! Each week, Paranormality Magazine explores all 40 subjects, from phantoms to UFOs, and every cryptid creature in between. Each week you are treated to a collection of well-researched and investigated stories, interviews and reports on cutting-edge paranormal projects and topics they know you crave. And here in the podcast, I share stories from the magazine to give you just a taste of what you receive in every issue. I'm Darren Marlar and this is Paranormality Magazine. Victor Fevolov was one of the lead investigators of the FOTIME case. In fact, he was the subject of a few of FOTIME's threatening notes. Fourteen years after researching that case, a family reached out to him from a small city on the coast of the Azov Sea by the name of Tagunrog. Chas of the Dead from Paranormality Magazine brings us the story. The family described a slew of activities that stood out immediately to Fevolov. The family said that no one had believed in their plight, but Fevolov did, as it sounded all so familiar to the case that occurred a decade and a half prior. He boarded a train to the town and visited the family's small apartment. When he arrived, he was struck with a sense of déjà vu. The apartment was on the eighth floor of a nine-story building. Once inside, he instantly noticed that the three-bedroom apartment shared roughly the same floor plan as the one that hosted the FOTIME entity. The family greeted him and invited him to join them for dinner. The family was also the same size as that in the FOTIME case, except they had a daughter instead of a son. Fevolov sat at the table and listened to the family's story. For a few years at this point, they had been subjected to harassment from an unseen force. While they were describing their account, the table began to move. It started shaking violently, tilting back and forth on its legs. Strangely, all the food and dishes aboard the table remained still and did not move at all. Fevolov reached for the camera that he always carries, and just as it powered up and he prepared to take the photo, the table suddenly stopped moving. He found the family had been experiencing this type of harassment for a few years at this point, and that the poltergeist had already entered what Fevolov called the writing phase. However, unlike FOTIME, these messages did not appear on strange notes or written on windows. The communication was taking place exclusively over text messages. The father and mother of the house would constantly receive messages from each other's phones that contained threatening words and insults. Neither parent had sent these messages, and neither phone contained records of them being sent. Oftentimes, the messages would disappear after a while on the receiving phone as well. The messages often told them to f off in a variety of fashions. It would egg them on, challenging them and asking them to respond. It also seemed obsessed with getting the two to consume alcohol, commanding them to buy several liters of beer a week and insisting that they drink them. There had not been signs of alcoholism in the family prior to these interactions. The entity even sent a message instructing the couple to kill Fevolov. The message was sent while he was on the train heading into the city. Oftentimes, the entity signed these messages with ZATAN written in Latin letters as opposed to Russian acrylics. Fevolov even witnessed the spontaneous appearance of these messages while both phones were in his field of view and were unmanipulated. After dinner, the family and Fevolov moved into the living room. They continued to explain the variety of phenomena they experienced. Another similar attribute was ZATAN's habit of turning on faucets and water in attempts to flood apartments. Once again, the focal point was their apartment, but their neighbors seemed to be plagued by these flooding attempts as well. ZATAN also seemed easily upset. If the family refused to drink as he commanded, he would hurt them physically. In one instance, a bag of hard candies vanished. Over the subsequent weekend, the small candies were thrown with force at the apartment occupants, leaving small bruises. It would also turn over furniture and break dishes if its orders were disobeyed. Money would often disappear as well from wallets and on rare occasions directly from bank accounts. ZATAN's influence over technology was also a point worth noting. Not only did it seem to communicate digitally, but it seems to show influence over these mediums. One instance occurred to the daughter of the family. She was withdrawing money from an ATM when a text box appeared in the corner. The text book had a single word, a Russian insult that most closely translates to the slang of a woman's body part which we will not say here, which happened to be ZATAN's nickname for her. The text box moved slowly from the top right corner to the bottom left. The girl was so frightened she took her card from the machine and ran. The spirit also showed a talent for teleporting objects. One of the more bizarre instances was when the father was driving with a friend and co-worker down a road outside of town. Suddenly both men felt the weight of their car shift and the steering reacted as well, causing them to swerve. They pulled over and opened the trunk to find a massive metal object in the trunk, an object that had not been there before. It looked like some kind of factory equipment, but was not one that was used at their place of employment. This incident actually resulted in a police report as the two men were reported for illegal dumping when they removed the strange object from their car. Interestingly enough, the father had no memory of this incident when he was asked about it a year later by Fevolov who was following up. The police report did exist and the co-worker remembered, but the father couldn't recall it until they took him to retrace the steps of that day. This turned out to be a pretty common effect for the father as he was the victim of a more intense side effect than the others. Oftentimes he would drop into a catatonic state, completely still and unable to move as if in a coma. They told Fevolov that this would occur often when his brother-in-law would visit. The brother-in-law lived in a nearby apartment and Fevolov asked if the brother-in-law could come over and answer some questions as well. He obliged and a few moments before he knocked on the door, the father fell to the floor. Fevolov watched as they tried all manner of methods to try and wake him up. They used ammonium dabbed onto a cotton ball, smelling salts, slaps and water. Nothing would stir the man. He would always awake from these episodes missing memories. He could always remember his wife, but had to be reminded of the name of his daughter on five separate occasions as well as other general information about his life. During one instance of this trance, about a year after this one, the family decided to take pictures and video of the father as they attempted to revive him. He had fallen into one of these episodes late one evening and then proceeded to try again to awaken him, to no avail. But when they replayed the footage, they noticed that a bright light source was glaring through the window in the background. None of them noticed this light at the time of filming, but when compared to photos taken at the same angle at different times of day, it is clear that a bright light must have been from some unnatural source, especially given the time of night the footage was captured. Eventually, the father regained consciousness but was in a dazed and confused state. Vevalov, having seen plenty of this on his first night, bid the family farewell so that they could rest from the night's bizarre activities. The mother put the father to bed and began to clean up. Vevalov had left and the daughter had headed out to meet some friends. There was a knock at the door. She assumed it was the daughter who had returned to pick up something she had forgotten, but when she answered the door she found it was her husband. He was standing there again extremely confused. From where she was it would have been impossible for the husband to have left the room and gone outside without her noticing. The husband himself was also confused, not understanding how he got there. Vevalov tried setting up cameras and investigating the phenomenon but it proved elusive. The camera would move on its own until the shot was ruined or sometimes the battery would drain entirely. In one instance, the memory card was removed and left on a couch cushion while no one was in the apartment. These types of instances continued on for more than a year while Vevalov investigated the case. The case itself seemed to occur over a span of six years. Vevalov believes this might be a record when it comes to poltergeist cases. It seems in more recent years the phenomenon has died off to a degree, but oddly enough instances of spontaneous human teleportation have continued in the town of Taggenrog. One man was waiting for his elevator and found himself several kilometers away in an instant. The confused man had been talking to his wife before the incident and called her immediately after. Data from the witness's cell phones and security cam footage have been used to corroborate his claim. For many investigators, this was taken as a sign that Zatan is still active to this day. Brandon Grimes brings us a story about flowers mysteriously appearing on a gravestone every year since 1796. In a picturesque Cornwall village near Truro, a haunting tale of a young woman named Betsy Dragascus has captured the imaginations of locals and visitors alike. The village nestled within the Cornwall area of outstanding natural beauty is said to be haunted by the ghost of Betsy, who died tragically at the tender age of 19 in 1795. Each year, on the anniversary of her death, flowers mysteriously appear on her slate gravestone, located just by the entrance to the church's gate at the Church of St. Clement. Historian Barry West has delved in to the fascinating case of Betsy's spectral presence, seeking to uncover the truth behind this enduring phenomenon. Betsy's parents were known to round the old inn at St. Clement, also known as the ship inn in more recent times. According to local lore, Betsy's life ended in sorrow as she took her own life, driven to such a desperate act after becoming pregnant with someone from a different social class. In the societal norms of that era, such a situation would have brought immense shame upon her family. Interestingly, Betsy's headstone rests in the Lich Gate rather than within the consecrated ground of the churchyard. Some believe that this placement might be a result of the church's refusal to bury those who committed suicide in its hallowed grounds, considering it a grave sin, according to Church doctrine. However, conflicting stories have emerged about Betsy's cause of death. Barry West's latest visit to the village led him to the doorstep of author Helena Patterson, who has extensively researched the history of St. Clement. Helena shares an alternative version of the tale, stating that Betsy succumbed to tuberculosis. This version of events was recounted to her by descendants of the Dragascus family whom she had met over the past five decades. Regardless of the cause of Betsy's untimely demise, her ghost is said to roam the vicinity, forever tied to the location of her resting place. Sightings of a young girl donning a mop cap and an old-fashioned dress have been reported, intriguing both locals and curious visitors. The mystery surrounding Betsy's haunting doesn't end there. The area seems to hold an aura of otherworldly energy, with reports of poltergeist-like activities. Some residents have attested to experiencing strange occurrences in certain cottages nearby suggesting the presence of lingering spirits. Barry West's investigation has also led him to connect with Gale Phillips, a descendant of the Dragascus family. While there's uncertainty about the exact lineage, Gale's great-grandmother Margaret Dragascus shares ties to the parish of St. Clement, stretching back several centuries. The enigma surrounding Betsy's grave, the apparitions and the lingering energies continue to captivate the community, as flowers appear annually on her gravestone, her presence remains a poignant reminder of a young life cut short and the enduring mysteries that envelop this charming Cornwall village. Whether you believe in ghosts or not, the story of Betsy Dragascus is undeniably one that has stood the test of time, inviting further exploration into the realms of the unknown. Want more Paranormality? Subscribe to Paranormality magazine, and each month, get it delivered digitally or via mail in our print version. Paranormality magazine is a collaborative endeavor featuring works from people like you who have a passion for all things mysterious and unexplained. Our goal is the pursuit of knowledge, gathering captivating stories from our own team of writers, researchers and investigators, as well as from writers such as yourself. Each monthly issue also includes a list of paranormal, horror, UFO and cryptozoology events around the country, incredible paranormal-themed artwork, articles and writing sent in from our readers, suggested books and podcasts to consume and more. Visit ParanormalityMag.com and subscribe today for as little as $3.99 a month. That's ParanormalityMag.com The word Pukwaji stems from the Native American tongue. This cryptid's lore is associated with the Algonquin, Ojibwe and Wapenog tribes, among others. The root Bagwaj, or Bagwaji, means in the wilderness or wild, respectively. The Native word Bagwajanini means person or little person of the wilderness or in the wild. It's from this word that the modern term Pukwaji stems from. Just sound it out, Bagwajanini and Pukwaji. Here's the similarity. If you've never heard of a Pukwaji before, well, you're about to, thanks to Deborah D. Roke, a contributor for Paranormality Magazine. Pukwaji's are described as small creatures who dwell in the forest. They're about knee high to three feet tall. Their faces are somewhat human-like, with front-facing eyes, but they tend to have large noses and at times long, pointy ears. Think troll or goblin. Their skin is usually gray and smooth. Sometimes they have fur or even porcupine quills, and they walk on two legs. According to Native American tales, these creatures have long existed within the North American forests way before settlers came. For a while, the Bagwajanini lived in harmony with humans. However, that changed. One legend from the Wampanoag says that everything between the Bagwajawanini and humans was great until humans got distracted with their relationship with Moshop. Moshop was a giant, kind creation deity who created the area of Cape Cod, Massachusetts. Moshop was beloved by humans, and the Pukwajis became very jealous. Their jealousy made them mischievous, and they began bothering and aggravating the Wampanoag people. The natives asked for help from Granny Squonet, Moshop's wife. Moshop heard about the complaints and got involved. Moshop collected as many as the Bagwajanini as he could and scattered them across New England, but after some time, while Moshop and Granny Squonet were away, the Bagwajanini returned, this time with a vengeance. They began kidnapping children, burning villages and even killing tribespeople. When Moshop and Granny got word of this, Moshop sent his sons to take care of the problem, but the Pukwajis lured his sons to the woods and shot them dead with magical arrows. This enraged Moshop and Granny Squonet, who then began crushing Pukwajis. However, the Bagwajanini, tricksters as they are, tricked Moshop into the water where they shot him with the same magical arrows. Some legends say Moshop was shot dead, others say he became so disheartened that he disappeared from the land and even the mythology. Today, Pukwajis are still known to be tricksters. They are also known to be killers. Luring people to a cliff where they are pushed off. There are also stories of them shooting people with arrows and kidnapping children. Pukwajis are also shapeshifters and can transform into different animals. Some believe that Pukwajis still have the power over the spirits they kill. It's said if you see one, you leave it alone. Ignore it. Pukwajis can only hurt you if they lure you or trick you. Disturbing, no? Many of the sightings have occurred in the Freetown Fall River State Forest located in the famous Bridgewater Triangle in Massachusetts. Fun fact, in Freetown sightings are so common that the authorities have placed yellow Pukwaji crossing signs to warn motorists of the unexpected dangers that lurk on the roads at night. There are also accounts that come from the Midwest, especially from the Mounds State Park in Indiana. The first time I heard about Pukwajis was on the Lore podcast back in 2017. The episode talked about Bill Russo's experience in Massachusetts. Russo had a home in Rainham, located in the middle of the Bridgewater Triangle. The Bridgewater Triangle, for those who are unaware, is an area of roughly 200 square miles that's known for its paranormal activity. It's considered the Bermuda Triangle of the States. It's believed that the area may be a paranormal vortex. All kinds of paranormal phenomena have been cited in the Triangle from aliens, Bigfoot, Pukwajis, Poltergeists, and Thunderbirds. Its three points are marked by the towns of Rehoboth, Abington, and Freetown. However, I won't be talking about Russo's encounter because it's very well known. It's been featured on various podcasts, documentaries, and on the Discovery Channel. Instead, let's focus on a more obscure story. I found this story by chance, and I think it's just as creepy as Bill Russo's story, maybe even a little creepier. This story comes from a Facebook user who commented her experience on a paranormal podcast's page. This woman, I'll name Ann, lived near the Mounds State Park in Indiana. Ann is a mom of two kids, with the oldest being two years old at the time. The youngest was about six to eight months old. The story takes place one night around two or three a.m. Her baby was crying, so Ann went to the room to console her infant. Ann paced around the room to soothe her baby in her arms. However, she noticed that as she would approach the window, her baby would scream. Ann found this odd. It seemed that being close to the window would bother her baby, so she decided to look outside. That is when she saw something. It was about two to three feet tall, standing outside across the street. Ann looked at it and noticed it had a rounded nose and glowing red eyes. She even noticed it was wearing clothes. It seemed to be wearing a purple gown. Ann was shocked and terrified. She immediately called her younger brother and began describing what she was looking at, but her brother was dismissive. He told her it was late, her eyes were probably playing tricks on her. He told her to go outside and make some noise to shoe it away. They hung up and then opened the window and yelled at it in hopes of shoeing it away. It didn't move. It continued to stand across the street from her home still as a rock, staring at her. Ann decided to be brave. She put her baby down and went to the front door. She opened the door and from the door she tried to scare it away. Suddenly the creature bolted toward her house. Ann instantly slammed the door shut and moved her TV stand in front of it. She panicked for a bit, but as soon as her nerves settled, she called 911. She did not know what to say. How do you describe a creature to the police? So she told the police that she was home alone and that someone was outside her house. She asked if an officer could come and check out the property. The cops came and looked around, but saw nothing but a balloon in her yard, a remnant of one of the children's birthday parties. The officers said that she may have mistaken the balloon for a person. Ann was upset. She explained to the officers that she knew what a balloon looked like and they don't look like little people, much less run toward you. The officers left. Ann was not comforted by the police visit. She still felt unsafe. That same night Ann got her children ready and went to stay at her sister's house. A few weeks later she returned to her house during the day to gather her things. She was moving. Ann never stayed another night in that house. Her family still teases her about it, but it doesn't end there. One day, as Ann was looking at some pictures, she noticed a picture of her daughter that was taken a day before the sighting. As she examined the photo, she took notice of the tailgate of the truck. On it she saw a familiar face, the same face that had been staring at her from across the street that night. It seemed that whatever she saw that night had been with them the day before. As we are still in the Yule Tide season, I thought I'd share this story from the December 2023 edition of Piranormality magazine. It's entitled The Haunted Ornament. It was two weeks before Christmas and Karen was decorating her tree while listening to holiday music. As she opened each ornament box, memories came flooding back. There was the sled ornament her daughter Madeleine made in second grade, the vintage glass bulbs Karen collected over the years, and the personalized Mr. and Mrs. Claus figurines she got as a wedding gift from her great aunt. Karen's husband Jack walked into the living room carrying a small box. Hey, hon, look what I found in the basement when I was looking for the stockings. It's one of my mom's old ornaments from when I was a kid. Karen examined the small metal ornament shaped like a bell. It looked old and worn with faded glitter that barely clung to its surface. She didn't recognize it. Are you sure it was your mom's? I don't remember seeing it before. Yeah, I'm positive. I remember her putting it up every year on the tree, bringing back memories of Christmas at home as a kid. Jack smiled nostalgically. Karen shrugged and hung the bell toward the back of the tree. As much as she loved vintage Christmas decor, this one seemed kind of junky next to her collection of pristine glass bulbs, but it clearly held sentimental value for Jack. Over the next week, Karen couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about the old bell ornament. When she wasn't looking directly at that part of the tree, she felt like she could see the ornament swaying out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned to look directly at it, it was stationary. How odd. She must be mistaken. The next Sunday evening when Karen and Jack were relaxing on the couch watching a movie, they heard a loud crash from the living room. They jumped up to investigate and were shocked to find the Christmas tree face down on the floor, water, and pine needles everywhere. As Jack rided the tree and Karen started sopping up the mess with towels, she noticed the bell ornament laying alone several feet away from the rest of the fallen ornaments. That's weird, she thought. Over the next week, more unexplained crashing sounds came from the living room overnight. Each time Karen and Jack would rush in to find the tree had inexplicably fallen over again, and the bell ornament was once again sitting apart from the others. Karen was mystified, but Jack seemed unconcerned. We probably just didn't get the tree stand stable enough. I'll brace it better tonight. But Karen couldn't help but feel like something strange was happening. A few nights later, Karen awoke suddenly to the sound of jingling bells. She shook Jack awake and asked, Do you hear that? It sounds like sleigh bells or something. Jack listened for a minute, then shrugged sleepily. I don't hear anything. You were probably dreaming, hon. But Karen knew she wasn't dreaming. She heard the bells again twice more that night before drifting off into restless sleep. The next morning, Karen nearly slipped on something small and metallic while walking into the kitchen for coffee. She picked up the object. It was the bell ornament. What was it doing here on the kitchen floor? She examined it closely and noticed a small clump of pine needles and dirt stuck in its hook. Just then, Jack walked into the kitchen, holding the morning paper. Honey, that weird old ornament was on the floor. It looks like it somehow came off the tree again, and I swear I heard sleigh bells ringing last night. Jack raised his eyebrows. Are you feeling okay, Karen? I think all the holiday stress is getting to you. Why don't you go relax and I'll make you some coffee? Karen sighed. She was starting to feel like she was losing her mind, but she knew in her gut there was something not normal happening with that ornament. That night, after Jack went to bed, Karen crept downstairs to the living room. She had to get to the bottom of this. The tree stood tall and pristine as if it had never tipped over. In fact, it looked fuller than usual. Karen examined the tree closely and realized there were now two bell ornaments hanging on it, the original and a nearly identical looking duplicate. What on earth? She carefully removed both ornaments and placed them on the fireplace mantel, then went to bed puzzled and unsettled. The next morning when Karen came down for breakfast, she peeked into the living room apprehensively. The bells were still on the mantel where she left them. Relieved, she went to join Jack in the kitchen and she poured herself some coffee. Jack remarked, Looks like you took the bell ornament off the tree. Any particular reason? Karen was stunned. You mean you didn't notice anything strange about there being two identical ornaments? Jack looked at her blankly. What are you talking about? There's just the one ornament right there on the mantel, the one that was always my mom's. Now Karen was really losing it. She could clearly see two ornaments on the mantel. She took a deep breath. Jack, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think that ornament is haunted or possessed somehow. It kept mysteriously falling off the tree at night and making strange sounds, and now it seems to have magically duplicated itself, but only I can see the second one. Concern washed over Jack's face. Sweetheart, I think you need to lie down. You're clearly exhausted and getting a bit confused. There's only one ornament on the mantel. I know it's an old family heirloom, but it's just a decoration. Frustrated and second guessing her own eyes, Karen finally said, Okay, you must be right. I think all the holiday errands have me tired out and caused me to imagine things. I'll go rest. That night, after Jack went to sleep, Karen gathered the courage to go back downstairs. She had to know if she was imagining things or if the ornament was somehow supernatural. Bracing herself, she turned on the lights in the living room. On the mantel sat a single bell ornament, just as Jack had insisted. Karen let out a huge sigh of relief. It had all been in her head. She walked over to inspect the ornament, and that's when the room erupted in a flurry of jingling bells and whooshing cold air. Karen screamed as the ornament flew off the mantel and started darting rapidly around the room. It ricocheted off the walls and whizzed past her head. The jingling grew definitely loud, like a thousand tiny bells were trapped in the room. Karen dropped to the floor, yelling for Jack at the top of her lungs. Within seconds, he was by her side, just as the ornament came zooming toward his head. He ducked just in time, and it crashed into the wall, falling to the floor with a ding. Karen and Jack looked at each other in shock. What was that? Jack panted. Karen shook her head. I don't know, but it's been terrorizing me for days. Your mom's old ornament is haunted or possessed. I told you. At that moment, Karen noticed movement coming from the fallen ornament. Its metal surfaces started rippling and stretching until the ornament took on a new shape, the ghostly form of an old woman in a dress. The ghost looked kindly at Karen and Jack and spoke in a calm, gentle voice. I'm sorry for frightening you these past days. You see, I am Charlotte, Jack's great aunt. When I was alive, I possessed a gift, the sight, as my family called it. I could see and communicate with spirits. Just before I passed, I transferred my gift to this ornament so that I could continue using it for good. My Christmas wish is to pass the gift along to someone in the family who was open to it. I hoped young Jack here would be the one, but alas, he did not believe. But you, Karen, you were open to possibilities beyond the mundane. You believed in the magic and spirit of Christmas, and so it is you I have chosen to inherit my gift, if you'll accept it. Karen was stunned, but to her own surprise not frightened. This all suddenly made sense. She turned to Jack and said, All those times I said I saw or heard strange things, you couldn't. It was real. This is truly happening. Then she turned back to the specter. Yes, I accept this gift and promise to use it only to help others as you did. Charlotte's ghost smiled and nodded. Use it well, my dear, and merry Christmas to you both. Her form slowly dissolved back into a plain silver bell ornament, which fell with a soft jingle onto the carpet. The next year, Christmas, Karen pulled out the ornament and stared thoughtfully at it before hanging it in front and center on the tree. She may not fully understand her newly discovered abilities yet, but she knew this would be a very special Christmas and the start of many paranormal adventures to come. Happy Holidays from Paranormality Magazine. Thanks for listening to Paranormality Magazine. Get more information about the magazine and subscribe to our monthly publication at ParanormalityMag.com or click the link in the show description. And if you're a researcher or investigator, send us your stories. We might feature you in our next issue. If you have a paranormal podcast, you can add it to our website so our readers can find your show. And artists, if you'd like your work to be featured in our magazine or on our back cover, contact us. Again, our website is ParanormalityMag.com. I'm Darren Marlar and I'll have more paranormal for you next time from Paranormality Magazine.