The Gentleman From Hell |S1| Ep. 37

Rusty Quill presents

Good evening, gentlemen and gentle ladies of hell.

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You really think it's a good idea to practically kidnap the man?

There's no practically about it.

We're kidnapping him.

Uh, you might want to keep your voices down.

Look, if we're gonna pull ourselves out of this hole, we gotta use every advantage we got.

And right now, we know they don't want anyone else involved in what's going on in Cold Sparrow.

Especially not the cops.

And whether they want to keep us around so they can throw us down that elevator shaft or sacrifice us to Giel or whatever the hell they want with us,

that means we can hank with a little impunity.

Have you guys ever done anything like this before?

Kidnapped someone, I mean, let's just say, on occasion, we've had to get pretty creative to catch our bad guy.

Like Mace is saying, Gaffney's not gonna tell the cops we sweat him for information, but that doesn't mean we won't face some kind of retribution.

After they get wind of what we did, there's no telling what these asshole cultists might do, to say nothing of the sparrows.

Well, it's not like we've got a lot of options.

We really do have to start pulling out all the stops.

So, we're just gonna steal him right out of his car.

We're gonna have to.

Moving around inside Portafoy isn't possible.

There's no telling how many eyes will have on us, or how much help might come to his rescue.

Bad enough way to sneak in there to plant that tracker.

But

what if someone saw you put it on his car?

What if it was his car?

It was.

That rental came from two cities away, so they shouldn't have made us rolling into town.

Besides, there wasn't a soul around when I stepped out, so I think we're good.

The real trick is grabbing him once he's moving.

With any luck, he'll head somewhere after dark, and we can disappear him without causing too much fuss.

I know we're on the right side of all this, but I can't help feeling at hand.

I don't know, ghoulish planning a kidnapping.

Oh, I get it, but it's certainly a far, far cry from whatever they're planning for us.

Which reminds me, there was no folder down there on Margaret and me.

I can't help but wonder what that means.

I don't know about what they've got in store for you two, but there was a paper on Alex, and we know what happened to him.

But nothing else maps out between you three and him.

His visions, the fog, that stuff more resembles Ben's experiences.

There's still a lot we need to piece together.

Like, I can sort of see what the cult might want with you two, the resonator and all that.

At least there's a supernatural connection.

But why the hell our names got drawn out of that hat's still anyone's guess.

They were watching us an entire year before we actually got the cult Sparrow.

The hell makes us so special.

The only thing that makes sense is the Sada cult, but I don't see any solid solid connection aside from the Sodas running the cult.

What exactly did the Soders believe?

I heard it had something to do with destroying religious sites, but I never got the details.

Their beliefs were strange.

Very strange.

You really think you can stop us?

The FBI, stopping what created God and the devil,

the hidden one

what the hell are you talking about you fucking hick lunatic

the one ain't never had a name

ever wonder why the guy the Bible said you shouldn't worship none of

him

it's cuz he weren't the first

And hell was a burning long before the devil got tossed down.

See,

after he made his sons,

they betrayed him,

locked him away to take all he had.

That weren't enough for Yahweh.

He wanted it all for himself.

So he cast his brother Lucifer from the second throne

and watched him burn.

But the hidden one,

he's still there

still waiting

and he's chosen us to set him free

how the fuck does planting bombs and killing people set your made-up god free

this whole world's his prison built right round him

but he's alive

deep inside it

first

he spoke to my grandpappy

then my daddy and now it's me he whispers to

tells me where to find the cracks how to make them wider

but cracks ain't enough he needs souls to

sacred places and souls you understand

with enough strength he'll tear free.

Reshape the universe in his image,

not

in the image of his betraying sons.

You are out of your goddamn mind.

All this bloodshed for some fucking bedtime story your granddaddy cooked up?

It ain't no story, son.

It's truth older than your books and badges.

When he comes free

there won't be no right or wrong

just his word and his power

you think your law and order can hold back what the stars themselves feared enough to lock away

all I see is a madman justifying murder You ain't special, Abel.

You're just another psychopath wrapped up in a delusion.

Delusion?

The delusion is thinking your laws of book learning mean something.

You standing there preaching justice.

But justice died when he was bound.

Soon enough,

you'll hear him whisper too.

Everyone will.

And what happens when your monster gets free, huh?

Ever thought maybe you're just just the first meal on his plate?

Ain't no matter.

If my blood's the first offered, then it's an honor.

I'll gladly be the foundation of his new kingdom,

even if it means burning alongside the rest of this here rotten world.

Jesus, he really does sound like one hell of a nut.

But while it's religious enough, it's still not anything like what we've been running into.

So, yeah, I'm not seeing the intersection of the Sodters and you three.

It's still something.

It's not everyone who encounters killer cultists.

I'm inclined to agree with that.

Two groups with unique relationships with the supernatural.

But you two stand out more in terms of what you managed to accomplish.

These fuckers are making contact with hell.

I can only imagine that the resonator, in their minds at least, might help them out with that.

We're not the only ones with our hands on unique technology.

They're most definitely using something other than a phonograph to reach down into hell.

Or Diablon, or whatever it's called.

It's interesting that you found that audio cassette then.

Why is that?

Well, all the communications we've tapped into are recorded on wax cylinders.

All except that one cassette.

I wonder if they somehow upgraded whatever technology they were using.

Must have been a fairly recent overhaul.

That cylinder with James Binder on it was from 2010.

Do you think the resonator could help them?

After all, it has been revealed to enhance the supernatural.

It's certainly possible.

But it's been sitting in the mansion all this time, and it hasn't been so much as touched.

Back at the hospital, they even picked up the portable units and put them back in the truck.

If they wanted them, they could have them by now.

Consider the sheer magnitude of it all.

Hughes is a world-renowned author and researcher, yet they removed him from the equation deliberately to leave us stranded.

It's hard to say how far these guys have gone to get what they want.

They pulled some serious strings to get mixed up with the Veers family, who were apparently loaded.

Maybe even some kind of royalty.

Do you think Hughes was forced into all this or was he one of them all along?

Can't say for sure, but he was definitely the perfect front to get us all to go along for the ride.

That, and I never even got so much as a whiff of bullshit from the guy.

It'd be odd for someone with no experience running a conno to be as smooth as that.

Nah.

I'd say his act was a little too on the nose to be his first rodeo.

That leaves the question of whether he's a cult member or, like the Sparrows, one of the damned.

That sounds like the perfect question for Gaffney.

Let's hope we get a chance to ask him.

I know it's useless to tell you to get some sleep, so I figured some coffee might do instead.

I'm sorry, Lenore.

It's just the first time an opportunity like this has ever arisen.

These people are at the very top of their fields.

In the Ingersoll's case, they're the only ones in their field.

These people might very well help alert the world to these awful creatures.

I'm ashamed to confess it, but sometimes I envy the blissful ignorance of others.

All my hard-won wisdom has given me is fear.

Fear and loneliness, and now my only child feels obliged to surrender her scarce free hours to tend to her doddering old father.

Well,

your daughter might be less tolerant if she hadn't seen those creatures for herself.

I'm not only here because I love you, Dad, but because I know what's at stake.

And I realize the opportunity these people represent.

I just hope they're still alive.

If only I can break through this damned communication barrier they've erected.

I just don't understand how they could interfere with the entire communications network.

They're not.

They've likely performed some kind of rite that disallows any communication between them and me.

In one of the cases I suspected of Mephitican diablery, the person was unable to reach out to any of her family members.

All the while, she spiraled into madness, right before disappearing altogether.

And remember that case concerning the derelict West Virginian house?

Well, in addition to the strange mechanical remnants, there was found all manner of witch's paraphernalia.

Specifically, nail clippings and bundles of hair, articles used to facilitate various thaumaturgical effects.

I'm almost certain to have left something of myself behind on the island before I was forced to flee, and I assume the cult managed to obtain biological samples of the Inger Souls and the others.

They likely used those materials to conjure some kind of barrier against communication.

I was hoping to find a means to break through it, but nothing so far.

You gave them the sound file for the chime, so they must be using it.

What if both groups were using it while trying to communicate?

That could very well work, but we need to coordinate, which, under the current circumstances, we can't do.

Then we should start calling them at intervals, hoping to find them when they're using the chime.

It certainly wouldn't hurt to try, but in the meantime, would you mind bringing me that stack of tapes and CDs over on my reading desk?

What are these?

Parcels from the Fitika devotees have been arriving for years.

When I abandoned the work, I left them sealed.

Now, well, the moment feels right to break them open to see if there's anything that might help us.

I started with the audio and visual materials first.

They are quicker to go through than the mountains of letters waiting in the wings.

Would you like to select the first to examine?

This audio cassette's dated a year ago from a Dr.

Brittany Bollinger.

According to the enclosed letter, she's a psychiatrist.

Says she's been involved with a case concerning a schizophrenic woman who claims to be possessed by a demon.

And that some of what she's been saying sounds quite a bit like merfitica.

She wants to get your opinion on a recording she made of her.

I'm afraid my opinion might be too late.

That's why I was reluctant to wade through all this.

After Naples, I swore I wouldn't let myself even brush against that temptation again.

But here we are

let's roll the tape shall we

all right vanessa why don't you tell me a little bit more about why this demon as you call him takes over your body

it's because i'm part of her

We go way back, you see.

Back before the flood, during the good old days of plenty.

The doors of Diabolon were practically yawning open back then.

Explain to me what you mean by the demon is part of you.

Sure.

It means that we share the same blood.

Came from the same flesh.

Her share of original sin,

some of it's in me.

Which makes me...

hers.

What does she make you do when she's controlling you?

you?

I don't know.

I can't see.

I just wake up when she's done.

You've never at least suspected something she's had you do?

Well,

there was this one time I woke up in the middle of the woods and was standing in front of this big hole.

It was actually a basement.

Only thing left of a house.

Everything else had vanished.

I just stood there for a while because it felt so strange.

Like

something

monumental had just happened and I'd missed it.

It was like an echo.

Not one you hear, but one you feel.

That's about as close as I can explain it.

So I kept staring into that hole.

I couldn't see the bottom, but somehow I knew someone was down there.

But I knew nobody was down there.

Sort of like that echo.

More than anything, though, I felt absolutely sure that whoever was down there,

I put them there myself.

And then I heard a sound

way down deep in the darkness.

Someone was climbing up.

It was a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen,

climbing with no effort.

When he finally reached the top, he took the deepest breath I ever saw and stretched his arm out wide, like he was trying to use them to taste the air.

Then he looked right at me.

And his eyes

reminded me of the hole.

All he said was thank you.

Then he walked off deeper into the woods.

Why'd you turn it off?

Because I can safely say that Dr.

Bollinger's patient is indeed involved with Mephitica.

And I should write her immediately to say as much.

Better late than never, I suppose.

Okay, he's on the move.

What direction?

Looks like he's headed east towards the highway.

I can't imagine he's up to anything good at one o'clock in the morning.

Let's just hope he isn't meeting up with his pals from the Sparrow cult.

We ain't gonna let him get that far.

Yeah, he's turned onto the highway.

Headed our way.

Roger that.

Is he headed to Cold Sparrow?

I don't know, but we'll be able to ask him soon enough.

Whatever happens, we need you all to stay calm.

This one's all the enemy.

That's him coming now.

Looks like he's the only car around.

Seems everything's coming up, daisies.

Good luck is never a good sign.

Roger that.

Twice.

Okay, let's head out.

I'll take lead.

You got it.

Phil, you getting any bad vibes?

Just the ones that concern kidnapping people.

Phyllis, I realize it seems crazy, but we can't get out of this by playing fair.

I think the guys are right.

We've got to break the rules.

It's the only way.

I know, I know, but indulge an old woman's stubborn need for normalcy.

We've done questionable things before, deeds that could be spun into something something far darker, but this is the first act that could truly put every one of us behind bars.

Well, better prison than hell.

And then, of course, there's that.

He just took exit 46.

That can't take you the long way to Coldsparrow, right through to the Pitch Pot Woods.

Shit.

I was hoping he'd stay on the main track.

We stopped following him to the back roads.

He'll make us in a second.

The tracker's still working fine, fine, so we can't afford to hang back.

It might be a good idea to activate the portables at some point.

There's no telling what this prison might be capable of.

Yes, good idea.

We don't need a rerun of what happened at the hospital.

If the portables affect the paranormal, isn't it possible the paranormal could detect them and respond?

I just don't want anything to get a whiff of us before it's time.

That's a good point.

In which case, we should keep them off till we absolutely need them.

He's turning into the sticks.

I don't even know if all those back roads show up on the travel app.

According to terrain imaging, there ain't shit out here till we hit Cold Sparrow.

And that's still over a half hour away.

We can take him now, but we're nowhere near the secondary locations we chose.

Looks like there's some some kind of structure about a mile or so off the road coming up.

I can't really make it out from the satellite view, but I'll see if I can find something with a quick internet search.

Well, before we run out of internet.

All I'm seeing is that this area was once used for logging, so I'm thinking it could be an old logging mill.

I guess that'll have to do.

All right, let's move up.

Right behind you.

Okay, I got him in sight.

Road's real narrow, so once I pass him, I should be able to block the road pretty easily.

Roger that.

He'll be boxed in before he knows what hit him.

Okay, here we go.

Everybody, hang on.

Okay, I'm in front of him.

Once I get him to stop, I'm popping out.

Roger that.

I'm right behind him.

All right, he's stopped.

I'm heading out.

Okay, once we got him in Leon's car, you guys take the rest of the vehicles and follow us to the mill.

Got it.

I'm headed out.

Get out of the vehicle now.

Don't touch your phone.

Please, please, I didn't do anything wrong.

I just don't shoot.

I'm a priest.

Priest my ass.

You heard him.

Get out of the fucking car.

Okay, okay.

I'm getting out.

Just don't hurt me.

Hey, he's clean.

What do you want?

I've done nothing wrong.

There's a crock of shit if I ever heard one.

Let's go, Padre.

We're gonna go for a little ride.

The Gentleman from Hell is a Maltopia production.

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

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

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

And follow us on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter at Maltopia.

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.

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

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

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Coach, the energy out there felt different.

What changed for the team today?

It was the new game day scratches 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.

Hey, I'm Paige DeSorbo, and I'm always thinking about underwear.

I'm Hannah Berner, and I'm also thinking about underwear, but I prefer full coverage.

I like to call them my granny panties.

Actually, I never think about underwear.

That's the magic of Tommy John.

Same.

They're so light and so comfy, and if it's not comfortable, I'm not wearing it.

And the bras, soft, supportive, and actually breathable.

Yes, Lord knows the girls need to breathe.

Also, I need my PJs to breathe and be buttery soft and stretchy enough for my dramatic tossing and turning at night.

That's why I live in my Tommy John pajamas.

Plus, they're so cute because they fit perfectly.

Put yourself on to Tommy John.

Upgrade your drawer with Tommy John.

Save 25% for a limited time at tommyjohn.com/slash comfort.

See site for details.