197: The Silent Man

An entity has entered the annals of urban myth under a number of names and guises; in Glasgow, it is given the name “Sandshoe Sammy”, a mocking title intended to discourage fear by laughing in the face of it – the name comes from the fact that it can move without making a sound, as though its shoes dampened the noise of its footsteps.

This entity is given other names. Another common appelation is “The Still Man”, in the sense that the entity often brings with it a sense of foreboding stillness before it strikes, or that it makes very little movement in those rare moments where it is seen by an eyewitness. Irrespective of how appropriate this title is, it may be misapplied – German folklore refers to it as “Der Stillmann”, which can be translated to “The Silent Man”, referring back to its method of remaining completely quiet when stalking its victim.

The Silent Man usually appears as a man dressed in dark-coloured formal clothing, but for whatever reason, appears hazy and indistinct when viewed with the naked eye; its facial features seem to blur into one another when viewed closely. According to most eyewitnesses, the Silent Man simply stands and stares – if it can be said to have eyes. The Silent Man will stalk its victims for any length of time before ultimately disposing of them.

In areas where the Silent Man is seen, atrocities are inevitable; it is an omen of disaster. While eyewitness accounts of its actual behaviour are lacking, it is obvious from the aftermath of its appearances that it is capable of severely mutilating its victims. The most common artifact discovered after an encounter with him are a number of “canopic bags” – fleshy containers that hold each of the victim’s individual organs and body parts. The face bag tends to be left behind most often.


2 Responses to “197: The Silent Man”

  1. Evan Sweatt Says:

    Yknow I was really starting to like this series, but then you had to go and rip off Slenderman. Der Stillmann? Come on, you know it’s Der Großmann 😛

  2. Lisa Maxwell Says:

    During WW2, my Grandmother encountered who she described as Sandshoe Sannie. In the blackouts her father was away fighting in the war leaving her mother and 2 of her sisters alone in the tenement flat, in Maryhill. Late one night, they heard someone lightly knocking on the door. Obviously being apprehensive about opening her door so late and during the blackouts with her husband gone; she didn’t answer. The knocking continued and she then heard the door handle being turned. This person was obviously intent on getting in. It then stopped, however she didn’t hear anyone leaving the close, no footsteps or movement. The next night, after midnight this happened again. My grandmother stood at the end of the hall, facing the front door. The knocking continued and the door handle turned. It then stopped suddenly. To her horror, the letterbox was lifted and a man’s voice said “I can see you, let me in! I know your dad isn’t there and i’m going to get you.”. With that, the letterbox closed and whoever it was, disappeared. A couple nights later, my grandmother had to empty ashes from the coal fire and venture into the back court, just as it was getting dark. She got to the back door and someone grabbed her from behind. “I told you, I’d be back!” She managed to elbow him and break free. She spun round and saw a man all in black; black trench coat and bunnet. She was unable to see his face as the hat was pulled down and collar on the coat was pulled up. She said the man lunged for her again and she threw the hot ashes all over him and ran for her flat. She flew in the door and slammed the it shut. She could hear a man screaming. She ran to the front window and brought the blind back slightly to see the man fleeing down her street. My grandmother said she never heard or saw him again. On talking to a couple of her friends, she heard a couple of girls were attacked in the area and they were all calling him Sandshoe Sannie, so called for wearing sand shoes and never hearing him approach from behind. I doubt it was The Still Man; at that time locals in Maryhill thought it was someone from the local army barracks carrying out the attacks. Whoever it was, it was frightening story that gave me the chills as a child.

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