The Gentleman From Hell |S1| Ep. 39

Rusty Quill presents

Good evening, gentlemen and gentle ladies of hell.

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Popsicles, sprinklers, a cool breeze.

Talk about refreshing.

You know what else is refreshing this summer?

A brand new phone with Verizon.

Yep, get a new phone on any plan with Select Phone Trade In MyPlan.

And lock down a low price for three years on any plan with MyPlan.

This is a deal for everyone, whether you're a new or existing customer.

Swing by Verizon today for our best phone deals.

Three-year price guarantee applies to then-current base monthly rate only.

Additional terms and conditions apply for all offers.

Coach, the energy out there felt different.

What changed for the team today?

It was the new game day scratchers from the California Lottery.

Play is everything.

Those games sent the team's energy through the roof.

Are you saying it was the off-field play that made the difference on the field?

Hey, a little play makes your day, and today, it made the game.

That's all for now.

Coach, one more question.

Play the new Los Angeles Chargers, San Francisco 49ers, and Los Angeles Rams Scratchers from the California Lottery.

A little play can make your day.

Please play responsibly, must be 18 years or older to purchase play or claim.

you dance

high.

Oh my god.

It's hard.

He reparts!

Did I...

Did I just fucking see that?

He

rose into the air.

And...

And...

A witch from hell ripped him limb from limb.

Alright, we gotta get the fuck out of here.

We can't just rab it.

Jesus, our prints are all over this fucking place.

They'll make us for the killers for sure.

No, I don't think so.

And why the fuck is that?

I already told you.

That's not what these things want.

When it was just a catch and release, I was on board.

But we could be on the hook for fucking murder.

You of all people should know how this shit can go.

And that was before we were fucking around with devil worshippers and goddamn witches.

He's right.

What do you mean, Phil?

Mace is right.

Framing us for murder is the last thing they want.

I know.

I saw.

I saw into the priest's mind as he was being mute.

Well, as he was being murdered.

What did you see?

They're preparing for us.

I saw bizarre rituals in basements, our pictures circulated amongst dark figures in the woods, our names spoken in dreams and written in blood.

They want us for something awful.

Awful.

What should we do?

We need to leave.

But first, I saw something in the priest's trunk.

We should take a look.

You're gonna be okay, Phil?

No.

No, I don't think I will.

but

I just have to accept that now.

Come on, Phil.

Let's get you out of here.

Um, I've got the key, but uh

that's okay, I'll open it.

The hell is all this?

What's in there?

Books, handles, ropes.

This book has our favorite family crest on it.

It's all in Latin.

It's called Ars Picati, Sincraft.

It's a grimoire.

Good honor knows what's in it.

All right.

Let's just grab this shit and get back to the mansion.

The sooner we're back next to the Resonator, the better.

At least until we can sort of do all this shit.

This whole time, the

sparrows, could have just killed us.

Lifted us into the air, and...

No, I don't think so.

There was something special about Gafni.

I could feel Mercy rage as she killed him, not because of anything he did, but because there was something special about him.

Something she hated to lose.

Then why kill him?

She had him in her grip from start to finish.

There was no way he could have spilled anything.

Continued exposure to the portable units might have altered the outcome, but that's beside the point.

She acted only because we forced her hand, compelled her to draw a line in the sand.

She knew we were betting on her knee for us, and that realization gave us the leverage we intended to exploit.

So she killed him to make a point.

Keep pushing your luck and people will die.

Then we made them sacrifice one of their pieces?

I hate to put it that way.

A human being was killed after all, but yes.

I think we finally made a move that hurt them.

To what extent really comes down to why Gafni was so important to the Sparrows.

Here's one.

It looks like Dr.

Raglan sent it in only a few months after the first one.

Feels like there's more than just a videotape in here.

Oh, we've got a couple of audio tapes, a jump drive, and some photos.

Hard copy snapshots?

She wouldn't have bothered developing them unless they meant something.

Let's look at those first.

They're just pictures of people.

Looks like they're all at some kind of celebration.

A decidedly grim affair, to be sure.

Those towering statues in the background.

The one on the left is Nurgulum, the false angel, and beside it stands Lyzekiel, the rancid prince.

Both figures are catalogued in the Cyclus Damnatorum, where Mephitican scholars reckon them amongst the spawn of the damned.

Twisted echoes of the evil that spilled into our world when the cursed first fled Dibalon.

Legends hold that these abominations prefigure the Nephilim of ancient lore, those giants who stride through the various texts, most famously the Old Testament.

I've more than once wondered if.

Well, what happened on the island wasn't the product of such

anyway.

Let's check the backs of the photos.

This one says

Alfred Wilde, aka

Martin Yarrows.

It's dated 2007.

And this one.

Mildred Lyons,

aka

Nicole Petrie.

Same date.

And this one is labeled Dorian Bard, aka Edward Veers.

Date is also the same as your two.

Wait a minute.

Edward Veers.

I bet that's the name of Benjamin Veers's father, but he's long dead, bequeathed his entire fortune to Benjamin.

It must simply be a relative or someone with the same name.

I'm not so sure, Dad.

Look here.

I did an image search.

Why, they look nearly identical.

He looks somewhat younger in the photo, but the resemblance.

Quickly, play the tape.

Let's see what Raglan has to say about all this.

I'm currently in the city of Matavius, attending a grand gathering of wealthy and influential captains of industry.

It appears the entire event has been orchestrated by senior members of the cult.

According to my contacts, once the festivities wind down, a select group of attendees will be invited into the hidden depths beneath this old abbey.

Bones and cameras have been strictly forbidden, but I was able to conceal a voice recorder and miniature camera in the bathroom ahead of time.

Okay, it's 10 o'clock at night and a strange group of men and women were just escorted into the abbey.

All of them brought into a back room.

Ugh, well, I can't identify everyone.

Several of them are almost certainly certainly the people I've been tracking.

Specifically, Edward Veers, who now goes by the name Dorian Bard.

Moments before slipping past the guards, I managed to snap a few photos.

Now I'm winding down into the abbey's underground depths, and I'm struck by how little these cultists seem to fear intruders.

With every step deeper, a rancid odor grows stronger.

Oh, one that I can't help but suspect is decaying flesh.

I braced myself for the horrors this cult might commit, yet the farther I go, the more I realize I'm woefully unprepared.

I don't know if the recorder's picking it up, but I can hear people screaming from above, likely from the party.

Oh, I don't know what's going on, but I don't feel like heading back is a good idea at the moment.

the lower levels of the abbey appear heavily excavated, giving way to a large earthen tunnel that twists deeper underground.

I've reached the limit of the recent diggings, where the freshly turned soil transitions into the remnants of some older, buried structure.

This doesn't look like recent architecture.

More likely, it's a forgotten portion of the abbey that collapsed long ago.

Now that I'm examining it closer, the ancient carvings etched into the walls, the primitive artwork scratched deep into the stone, I'm beginning to think this place might predate the abbey entirely.

I've descended into the very bottom of the abbey, where a vast and ancient-looking chamber has been revealed.

At its center lies exactly what I expected to find.

A vast hole descending deeper into the earth.

A black ladder.

Yet this particular chasm vastly surpasses in scale any I've encountered or even heard of.

There's also a massive black chain plunging into the hole from above.

Its links secured with a heavy crank ready to haul it back up.

Embellishing the walls around me are numerous reliefs and faded pictographs of unsettling scenes, grotesque entities, and monstrous forms apparently believed to emerge from the darkness of the pit.

These representations make it painfully clear that something profoundly unwholesome is thought to crawl out of that hole.

But it isn't merely the size or foreboding imagery that distinguishes this place.

Rather, it's the extraordinary grandeur and intricacy of it.

A sprawling dais of carved stone encircles the pit, rising slightly above the chamber's floor as if designed to honor, or perhaps contain, whatever ascends from below.

Towering black pillars, stark and imposing, ascend at regular intervals around the circumference, shouldering an immense polished ceiling of obsidian or some reminiscent material.

The reflective surface of this dark canopy seems almost liquid under my flashlight.

amplifying the oppressive atmosphere and further deepening that sense that I've intruded into a place never intended for human eyes.

I've hidden myself at the far end of the chamber, and from here I can see a procession of dark figures descending the steps into the chamber.

All of them are wearing long, black hooded robes.

While I can't see them, I'm almost certain Fears and the others are amongst the hundred or so people.

They're gathering around the hole, some of them forming around the crank.

Now they're chanting something

But I can't understand what they're saying.

They're cranking the chain up out of the hole

There's

wind

I think

it's coming out of the hole

There's a horrible smell.

I I don't know what's happening.

Some kind of mist.

Miasma filling the room.

I have to get out of here.

I can only barely see, but it looks like something's been hauled out of the hole.

It's a kind of large chamber.

I think the door to it is opening.

Uh, I.

I must have passed out.

Ugh, good thing I fell behind the pillar and not into view.

Everyone's gone.

I'm alone.

Oh god.

The big chamber that was affixed to the chain is smashed open.

Thick metal doors crumpled like paper.

I need to get the hell out of here.

Okay,

I'm back on the main floor.

I'm hiding behind a crumbling pillar.

I can't believe what I'm seeing.

There are people everywhere, and they're practically knee-deep in blood, hauling bodies like trash.

Oh, now it makes sense.

Those screams I heard when I was making my way deeper into the abbey.

Was that some kind of sacrifice?

Something that was needed for what?

The ritual down at the hole?

Oh god, I don't even know.

I just...

I just hope this tape survives.

If I don't.

Oh, I've never been so happy to hear that sound.

Security wasn't tricked, so I'm guessing no one tried to get in while we were gone.

You really don't think we'd be blamed for...

Oh, God, for.

These people are no strangers to covering up murders.

They want no part of any official attention.

We have plenty to be worried about, but this isn't one of them.

We have seen so many terrible things since we came here, but what we saw tonight, it's

too much.

We're going to be okay.

We.

We are not going to be okay, Patricia.

Don't you see that?

Jesus Christ,

there's no way out of this.

Here, just sit down.

I'll get you something to drink.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to hear it like that.

No, it's okay.

I understand.

It was a horrible thing that happened tonight.

I'm not.

I'm not sure how to process it either.

I've been thinking about this thing the whole drive back.

Damn it, I know it's in here.

Here it is.

Right fucking there.

Terrence Michael Gaffney.

I knew I saw that last name in these genealogy charts.

Once I looked at his license, I clicked.

Gaffney and all these other people are connected to this one man, Ezekiel Standish.

But why is that something the cult would be interested in?

Hold on.

Look.

Ezekiel is the father of Hester and Edgar Standish.

Could Standish be Hester Sparrow's maiden name?

And Edgar her brother?

Hmm.

There is the man I've seen in my visions.

An older man.

It could be this Edgar person.

Her brother.

But the spell kids aren't on here at all.

Hardly surprising.

They were burned as witches.

As Gaffney was dying, I saw images, just flashes.

Voices from his dreams, commanding him.

Was some kind of connection between him and the witch?

Maybe that connection was one of blood and lineage.

It's no theory.

Edgars was Hester's brother, alright.

He mentions Barnumus in this section here.

That's the book from Gaffney's car.

Yep.

This part is an essay called When Sins Become the Flesh.

What the hell does that mean?

It says

Once conjured forth, my nephew, Barnabas Sparrow, did manifest not as the man he was in life, but as a great and dire beast, a thing perfected in its hungers, and whose darkness was now the bounty of this once great sinner.

In life, I instructed him along the path of waste, which taught of the the many feasts of death.

And now, risen from the pit, he has become a beast of spoil and devouring.

And even I, who was once but a man, have become a megas of many wonderful corruptions.

The beast of spoil?

Does that mean Barnabas is the hyena?

That certainly sounds like it.

And that also means the sparrow kids were taught witchcraft by their uncle.

What's that?

Just a bookmark, I think.

There's something written on it:

333212.

What is that?

Some kind of code?

May to a hidden safe.

Holy shit.

What is it?

Crank the main resonator all the way up and get the potables ready.

We gotta go down to the cellar.

What are you talking about?

What for?

You'll see.

Why the fuck are you dragging us all the way down here?

The elevators are about the last place I want to be right now.

Oh,

I get it.

Nice catch.

Thanks.

Jumped right out at me.

Can you stop playing games and just tell me what the fuck you figured out?

Easier just to show you, but and uh make sure the doors don't close on me, would ya?

All right, you got it.

Okay, here we go.

Three, three, three, two, one, two.

Jesus, now I feel like an idiot.

Now, hurry up and step out.

I don't trust that thing for even a second, nor should you.

All right, let the doors close.

Everyone, step back.

Let's see what it does.

It's going down

way

down.

The Gentleman from Hell is a Maltopia production.

Today's episode was written by Mark Ansloan and voiced by Stephen Zivik, Sam Stark, Aubrey Akers, Jesse Van Hove, Kelly Baer, and Stephen Ansloom.

Sound editing was completed by Stephen Anslone and script editing was conducted by Walker Kornfeld.

Be sure to rate and review us on iTunes, Spotify, or your favorite podcast platform.

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If you want unique art and animations of Meltopia's stories, visit our YouTube page or click on the link in the show notes.

And for more exclusive content, such as additional lore, stories, and art, be sure to check out our Patreon at www.patreon.com forward slash Meltopia.

Popsicles, sprinklers, a cool breeze.

Talk about refreshing.

You know what else is refreshing this summer?

A brand new phone with Verizon.

Yep, get a new phone on any plan with Select Phone Trade In MyPlan.

And lock down a low price for three years on any plan with MyPlan.

This is a deal for everyone, whether you're a new or existing customer.

Swing by Verizon today for our best phone deals.

Three-year price guarantee applies to then-current base monthly rate only.

Additional terms and conditions apply for all offers.

Coach, the energy out there felt different.

What changed for the team today?

It was the new game day, Scratchers, from the California Lottery.

Play is everything.

Those games sent the team's energy through the roof.

Are you saying it was the off-field play that made the difference on the field?

Hey, a little play makes your day, and today it made the game.

That's all for now.

Coach, one more question: play the new Los Angeles Chargers, San Francisco 49ers, and Los Angeles Rams Scratchers from the California Lottery.

A little play can make your day.

Please play responsibly, must be 18 years or older to purchase play or claim.