Interrogation

Unnecessary sounds such as “um” and “uh” have been omitted from the following statement for the purpose of making the statement easier to read.

(Recording Starts)

Detective John Moore: Detective John Moore. M-O-O-R-E. Badge number 63475. In the room are myself, Detective John Moore, Jacob William Howell, and Detective Allison Sargent. Mr. Howell has waived his right to an attorney. Sarge?

Detective Allison Sargent: Detective Allison Sargent. S-A-R-G-E-N-T. Badge number 54654.

Detective John Moore: Please spell your last name for the record, Mr. Howell.

Jacob Howell: H-O-W-E-L-L.

Detective Allison Sargent: Date of birth.

Jacob Howell: September 12, 1989.

Detective John Moore: Thank you, Detective. Just so we are clear, Mr. Howell, you have waived your right to counsel. If at any time you would like to end the interview, let us know. You have not been charged with any crimes at this time. This interview is simply to recount the events of October 20th, 2021.

Jacob Howell: I haven’t been charged with any crimes at this time.

Detective John Moore: Excuse me?

Jacob Howell: At this time. Meaning, you foresee charges in my future.

Detective Allison Sargent: He likes to talk. He’s been running his mouth since he came in.

Jacob Howell: She has me pegged. My mom used to tell me I had diarrhea of the mouth. She didn’t like it when I talked. Always had a headache. Probably the reason my dad took off. Well, that and they were both raging alcoholics. It’s easy to bond over the glug-glug, a lot harder to maintain the bond when the liquor wears off. I still have this scar on the inside of my thigh where she stabbed me with a fork. Stabbed me with a fork. You wanna know why? I was humming at the dinner table. Humming and eating my peas like a good little boy and then suddenly there was a piece of silverware sticking out of my leg. Didn’t realize it then, but a few centimeters in one direction, and she would have nicked my femoral artery. That can be all it takes to bleed out. A little nick here, a little nick there. Here a nick, there a nick, everywhere a nick-nick.

Detective John Moore: Let's keep your statements contained if we can. Where were you the night of the 20th?

Jacob Howell: That was the first night of the full moon, so my memory is a little fuzzy. I think to get a full grip on things, you have to understand a little bit of my history. I didn’t have a normal childhood. As I said, both my parents were alcoholics, so my foundation was built on very shaky ground. When I was sixteen, I ran away from home and started working as a mechanic. I didn’t have any experience at first, but I did a pretty good job faking my way into a permanent position. I worked there for about six years, never took a day off or a vacation. I just worked and saved, worked and saved. One day, I just decided I didn’t want to spend my life under the hood of a car, so I quit. I got a passport and bought a plane ticket to England. From England, I headed over to mainland Europe.

Detective John Moore: Let’s keep things focused on the night in question.

Jacob Howell: If you’ll listen for a second, I’m getting to that. I could give you the version with all the extraneous details, right down to the smell of espresso wafting from the French cafes. I’m not going to do that, so at least be a little grateful. Anyway, so eventually I made my way to Eastern Europe. Estonia, to be exact. I stayed with a family there. Really old-world types. There was even a wizened old grandmother with a rheumy eye. She used to just sit in front of the fire, rocking back and forth and muttering to herself. The couple that owned the place didn’t even charge me to stay there. They just asked me to do a few chores around the place, help with errands, that kind of thing. One night Markus, the man of the house, takes me aside, hands me this brown paper box, and asks me to deliver it to an address just outside of town. He says under no circumstances should I look in the box. It was, for all intents and purposes, a normal box, but it had some weird, archaic symbol stamped on the side.

Detective John Moore: I think we’re completely off topic with this.

Jacob Howell: Isn’t part of your job establishing a rapport?

Detective Allison Sargent: I’m guessing you looked in the box.

Jacob Howell: That’s how you do it. I really wasn’t tempted to look inside the box at first. I know a lot of people would be curious, but not me. I like to stick to my lane. Now, keep in mind, this is Estonia, so you’re never very far from a sheep. I mean, they’re everywhere. I’m walking down this narrow country lane, pastures on both sides of the road, when I walked past a gaggle of sheep. Actually, I think a gaggle is geese. Doesn’t matter really.

Detective Allison Sargent: A flock.

Jacob Howell: Yeah, so I walk by this flock of sheep and they just start going crazy, jumping all over each other, slamming against the walls of the pen. This farmer comes out and starts shouting at me. I didn’t speak the language, so I yelled a few curse words at him, and I’m sure he lobbed a few my way, as well. As I was shouting and waving my hands, I lifted the brown paper box in his direction. As soon as he catches sight of that little symbol, he starts to back away. Then he did a sign of the cross and booked it back toward his house. The sheep are still going nuts, so I move a little way down the road. Now my usually incurious nature flips, and I need to know what’s in this thing. It was tied closed with twine, so it took me a few minutes to untie the knot. I don’t know what’s in there. Could be drugs. Could be a severed body part. Whoever is receiving this package, I don’t want them getting even the slightest hint that I’ve looked inside.

Detective Allison Sargent: What was it?

Jacob Howell: That’s where things get weird. The box was empty. At least I thought it was empty. As soon as I opened it, I felt this chill wash over me, like someone was pouring cold water down the back of my shirt. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I tied the box closed, replicating the knot as best I could, then delivered it to its destination.

Detective John Moore: And where was that?

Jacob Howell: Nowhere special. Just this old camper in the middle of a muddy field. When I knocked on the door, this small blonde woman answered. She looked like the mom on some tv sitcom. She took the package from me, muttered some words I didn’t understand and closed the door. Simple as that. I returned to town, grabbed a few drinks at the local watering hole, then went to bed. The next morning, I woke up in the middle of the woods, damn near frozen, naked as the day, covered in blood, no idea how I got there. When I got to Markus’ house a few hours later, there was no one there. Even the old lady was gone. Nothing was out of place. It was like they just vanished.

Detective John Moore: Where did the blood come from?

Jacob Howell: That’s a good question. I still don't know. After that, I returned to the states, got a job at an auto parts store. The blackouts continued. At first, I thought they were random, but then I started tracking them. I did that for a few months before the pattern started to emerge. Turns out these blackouts always coincided with the full moon. For three days, every single night of the cycle, I have a blackout, lasting from about 8 at night to around 4 in the morning. So, I start telling people about it, and this one friend suggests that I record myself to see what happens. I set up one of those cheap nanny cams. Had it recording twenty-four hours a day. Then a blackout hit, and the next morning, I watched the recording. I didn’t know what I was seeing at first. I thought it was a seizure. Then my body started to change. This hump emerged on my back with these razor-sharp spikes that tore right through my shirt. My face extended into a snout, these devastating dagger-like teeth filled my mouth, and then this rough hair sprouted from my skin. Oh, and the muscles on my arms and legs bulged to about three times their normal size.

Detective Allison Sargent: That sounds like—

Detective John Moore: A werewolf.

Jacob Howell: Got it in one.

Detective Allison Sargent: Thank you for wasting our time.

Detective John Moore: Detective Sargent has left the room. Mr. Howell, we’re going to go through this one more time. Where were you on the night of October 20th, 2021?

Jacob Howell: I met a woman for drinks at a bar.

Detective John Moore: Janet Miller?

Jacob Howell: Her name was Janet. Didn’t catch her last name.

Detective John Moore: Is this her? You’re going to have to give a verbal answer for the recording.

Jacob Howell: That’s her.

Detective John Moore: When did you last see her?

Jacob Howell: We were somewhere in the woods not far from the bar. I prefer my food to be alive when I eat it, but she started to scream so I snapped her neck. It was a whole thing.

Detective John Moore: You’re telling me you ate her?

Jacob Howell: I’m a werewolf. That’s what we do. I know what you think. The whole story about Estonia and the transformation was my attempt to establish grounds for an insanity defense. I'm not insane. I'm not evil. When I’m hungry, I eat. I’m not going to apologize for that.

Detective John Moore: Werewolves are a myth.

Jacob Howell: Well, you're about to see that myth debunked.

Detective John Moore: Excuse me?

Jacob Howell: The full moon started the night I ate Janet. That was two nights ago. Do the math.

(Recording Interrupted)

Jacob William Howell

October 22, 2021

PE1204587006781

Interview by

Detective John Moore & Detective Allison Sargent

Portland Police Department