The Gentleman From Hell |S1| Ep. 34

Rusty Quill presents.

Good evening, gentlemen and gentle ladies of hell.

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Yep, this is where we all have the sound test.

Wayne tried to contact her.

The counter is green.

Jones and all for you to say, oh ship.

Oh, ship is not the lady's in.

Ready?

No.

Several

Louise Carter.

Can you hear me?

Eloise Carter, can you hear me?

Who's there?

Is there someone in here with me?

None of that matters anymore.

I just need you to tell me who you are.

And then we can help you.

My name?

My name.

Uh, well, I'm...

Louise Carter, dearie.

Please, tell us about where you are.

Why,

little

voice in my head?

I thought...

You were going to help me if I told you my name.

We will.

But first, we need you to cooperate with us.

Now please, describe your surroundings, your situation.

The plastic is everywhere.

Outside of me.

In me.

All of the racked plastic.

People, the buildings, the sky.

The light is plastic too.

Bake.

Manufactured.

Have you spoken to anyone or anything since you arrived in this

plastic place?

the plastic won't let them.

Why am I here?

I want to get out.

You are there because you have a talent for darkness, Eloise.

That darkness weighed you down, brought you to that place.

It's different for everyone.

We need to record your specific circumstances.

Can you see yourself?

If so, what do you look like?

I

have no talent for darkness.

Little voice.

I was a nurse.

I fostered the light.

I cradled babies and tended the sick.

Where's the darkness in that?

Please answer the question.

What do you look like?

I am made from plastic.

A mannequin?

A doll?

Sometimes I melt, so I'm a bit of a mess, I'm afraid.

But what about that darkness?

You know,

I was always a kind.

Kind one.

Everyone said so.

We have your journal, Eloise.

Oh,

I thought I hid that old thing away where no one would ever find you.

Please, tell us more about the things you ruined.

So

that's my talent for darkness, is it?

It was only dark on paper, I can assure you, little voice.

Oh,

but if it helps free me, then so

be it.

My journal was a place of reflection.

Where I would quietly digest the unpleasant truths about myself.

I assumed there was virtue in my horrid confessions.

Little pearls sparkling amid the mutilation of clams.

I hated practically everything you see.

Well, if you live my journal, I'm sure you see it just fine.

Misomania, I think it's called.

An obsessive hatred of everything and everyone.

By refusing its compulsions, I'd hope to achieve some level of forgiveness.

More perhaps

perhaps even piety.

I was overcoming temptations of monumental scale dragons that even Greek heroes might not have faced.

Yet if this is my reward,

perhaps I would have been wiser to ride upon those serpents rather than wage war against them.

It's true.

I wanted to see

everything

suffer.

At the very least, I held newborns while imagining myself bashing out their brains with a rock.

I administered life-saving drugs in the hopes my patients would die agonizing deaths.

My, oh my, just saying these things out loud.

Even here.

Oh, I was indeed a poor nurse, wasn't I?

Even if I were you.

spirit

You were never made aware of why you are where you are

Oh Who can say what I know

not me that's for sure?

I'm just plastic melting under a shrink-wrapped sun

Are you in any pain?

Pain

what is pain

to one who is plastic

besides pain is too small an idea for what you want to know.

You want to know if I'm suffering.

Correct?

Yes, that's right.

I am suffering as only

plastic can.

Plastic is fake.

Plastic suffers the sin of envy.

It wants to be real and yet it is the very

definition of artificial.

I was a simulated nurse.

An artificial angel of sick.

And plastic is made,

designed from the start to be what it can't truly be.

I wanted to be real, but I was afraid to try.

Now I think on what might have been.

Instead of so much plastic,

whatever soul I might have possessed died between pages of a notebook.

And now,

I am desire

without hope.

In the void of fulfillment.

And the mockery of both.

Perhaps.

But we can help you.

What's happening?

Joe Winn!

Sure,

didn't you know another?

Our connection is weakening, home.

But we will be contacting you again soon.

This concludes the initial conjuring of Eloise Carter.

Subject has been prepared for further contact.

I

don't even know what the fuck to say after that.

Am I

understanding this right?

Was that person in hell?

These recordings, they aren't seances.

They're direct communications with the damned.

With hell itself.

Apparently, hell isn't the same for everyone, according to all those bizarre questions.

Christ, Pat.

It didn't take you long to start deconstructing it.

We don't have time to be surprised anymore.

You got that right.

Look, I don't know what the fuck we're dealing with, but we need to figure it out, ASAP.

I think it's pretty goddamn clear what's going on.

Those fuckers have some way of talking to people in hell.

And bringing them out.

If we're gonna figure this shit out, we've at least gotta be honest with ourselves about what all this means.

I don't know what everyone is so shocked about.

We've all gone through worse things than listening to a tape recording.

Because now you all know, just like I do, hell is real.

There's no more room to wander, no more doubt to hide behind.

These are not some abstract monsters, no spiritual solidifications from the ether or from the collective unconscious.

They're real demons risen from a real hell.

Well, correction.

They're former humans trapped in a place that was first called Diabolon.

For better or worse, there's a lot about all this we still don't know.

Which means we don't want to be jumping to conclusions.

I couldn't agree more.

We stick with the facts.

Like I said a while back, we work this like any other case.

One fact at a time.

I understand proceeding with caution, but I am not leaping to conclusions.

What I saw, what I lived through in that vision, was damn near indistinguishable from hell itself.

Call it what you will.

Dress it up in clinical language and skepticism if it helps you sleep at night.

But we're not doing ourselves any favors by softening the truth.

When the time comes to reckon with what's really out there, and make no mistake, that time's already come and gone.

We'll be swallowed whole if we're not ready.

These things may not look like the devils in old books, but that's just wordplay.

Evil is evil, no matter the name.

I'm not sure I understand what you want us to do differently.

I'm not asking anyone to do anything.

All I'm saying is, if we keep pretending this is something it's not, just because the truth is hard to face, then we won't be ready.

Not mentally.

And when this thing finally does what it really came here to do, it's going to be far beyond anything we know how to handle.

I don't know if I can handle what's already happened.

But far be it from me to underestimate this thing.

Anyway, there are a few research angles we should really explore next.

What are you thinking, Margaret?

This bell of Antioch seems to work well enough, which implies that religious paraphernalia are a clear deterrent for these things.

However, if other religious remedies don't work,

we need to know why.

Right.

If the bell possesses some kind of special properties, especially properties we can reproduce, we could begin looking into some kind of viable defense technology.

Something that might be more effective than even the bell itself.

Those all seem like good questions for Dr.

Loctrum.

If only we could get a guy back on the phone.

Oh, I hope he's alright.

There's no telling what could happen to him if they don't want him talking to us.

That's it right there, Dr.

Lochtram.

The Church of the Sacred Art.

Come in.

Hello, Bruce.

Now, this is a surprise.

Come on in, Philip.

Have a seat.

Thank you.

Well, how have you been?

How's Lenore?

We're both doing fine, Bruce.

Thanks for asking.

But we could certainly use a little help at the moment.

What do you mean?

Is something wrong?

Yes, there is.

It's...

It's what we talked about.

Philip, please, not all that again.

It's not exactly an easy topic to ignore, and you know it's real.

I didn't say it wasn't.

It's just...

Some things should be let alone, and that is one of them.

Besides, I thought you gave all that up.

I did, but not because I wanted to, but...

because something happened.

Something I can't ignore.

What?

What is it that's got you back into all of this?

I was contacted by others who have seen them, who are dealing with them as we speak.

Who?

Do you remember?

The group that brought down the Soder cult.

They contacted you?

Not just them.

They're working with the Ingersoll sisters.

The ones who demonstrated the supernatural in open court.

I can't say that I believe all that.

But anyway, how did they get involved?

I don't know.

But they sought me out because of one of my lectures.

They told me, in no uncertain terms, that they'd seen these beings.

That they were trying to protect themselves against them.

Now, I can't just sit here and do nothing.

I've got to help them.

And that's why I need your help.

Philip, isn't it possible that all of this is some sort of put-on?

The internet is filled with YouTubers perpetrating one type of hoax or another.

I seriously doubt those people would risk their reputations on some kind of hoax.

Furthermore, they know things that no one else besides me knows.

Things I've never even lectured about.

I'm an old man who can barely walk without a cane.

What good could I possibly be to you?

I don't want you out there with me, Bruce, but I would appreciate it if you could do me a favor.

If it's in my power,

I

need access to the reading room at St.

Esther's Cathedral.

Philip, I can't.

You're a monsignor in the Catholic Church whose first cousin is an archbishop.

I think you can.

Please, Bruce.

Roger wanted me to bring those tapes back for you specifically, because he thought you'd be able to do something about what's on them.

I watched him die.

It's the last thing he asked of me.

If you can't do it for me, at least do it for your brother.

I'll see what I can do.

That's all I'd hoped for.

What do you need from the reading room?

It's probably best you did

I see.

But I should go.

Lenore's waiting for me out in the car.

I really do appreciate this.

And I know Roger would have as well.

Philip?

Yes.

What are they?

They're demons, Bruce.

From hell.

All right, this slider controls the output level, with the blue and red indicators representing the lower and upper extremes respectively.

Right now, we're well within the lower blue range.

The second slider manages the modified output, the parasonics containing the charm, and it operates just like the standard parasonic emitter.

I separated them so we can be selective about their application.

The standard emitter reveals paranormal activity, while the modified one dispels it.

If we run both together, it may be possible to modulate these manifestations, giving us far more control over what happens.

Over here on this gauge is all of your telemetry, the output from the sensor clusters and battery.

You can use the touch screen to select and expand any given metric for more details.

And that's about it.

Seems pretty straightforward.

It is now.

But you should have seen the prototype.

I felt like I needed a degree in engineering just to hold the thing.

Well, there'd be no Robocop without Frankenstein's monster.

Okay.

If you think you've got the hang of it, we can get the rest of the book from the basement.

Yeah, I think I got it.

Did you pull up the cameras feed from the basement?

Yep, it's already set up on the main monitor in the hub.

Gotcha.

Just be careful.

It's hard to believe we were once walking around this place without any protection whatsoever.

That's not true.

You had your salt.

And I still do.

Though I confess that the resonator seems more than a worthy replacement.

And now I'm strapped.

And toting a portable Parasonic resonator just to get some books from the basement.

You ready?

Let's hit it.

I'm slowly gonna increase the standard output.

I wanna see if the main Resonator's field cleared things out down there.

I'm not seeing anything.

Looks like the big unit did the trick.

Looks like.

But keep the portfolio one on.

Just in case.

You got it.

Whoa.

Look at that.

Just power it out from under the elevator door.

But it's not getting very far.

It's evaporating almost as soon as it slips out.

It must be hitting the edge of the resonator's field.

Let's not press our luck.

We should just get the books and jet.

Okay,

let's go.

Okay, you guys get what you need and I'll hang here by the door.

That works.

Uh, hey, hold up.

I got an idea.

What's that?

If any of the stuff down here is special, paranormal in some way, the resonator should out it, right?

Well, it should.

But with the main unit already suppressing any possible manifestations

It might not work

What if we turned down the main unit's chime emission a little bit and then maxed out the portable's resonation sonics

Mace could you head over to the resonator and let me know when you're there

Yeah, in a second

What the hell it's worth a try, right?

Once I finish checking this room out, it might be a good idea to peruse out the rest of the cellar.

There's no telling what could be down here.

Exactly what I didn't want to think about.

Let's not turn the time down too low, shall we?

Okay, I'm here.

See the meter that reads 75%?

Looking right at it.

Great.

Just move the slider right next to it till it reads 55%.

Okay,

she's all set.

Anything else?

Nope, that should do it.

But just stick around in case we need you to turn it up again.

I'll quicken in a hurry.

Got it.

Okay,

at that setting, the upstairs should be fully covered, but the field down here should be a little weaker.

At least enough for us to see something with the portable unit maxed out.

Okay, let's just crank this puppy all the way up.

That should about do it.

Now let's see what we can see, shall we?

I found what the box I was looking for, so I'm all set.

After you

not seeing anything in here, let's try outside in the main area.

huh?

With the chime turned down and the parasonics ramped, the mist is really starting to build up over the archway.

Not just there, but over here by this big statue.

You're right, there's something behind it.

Mace, turn the machine back up to 75%.

Then you and Phil should come down here so we're all together.

I think we found something.

You got it.

On the way.

Alright.

There, that does it.

Hey, looky there.

The crest of the sparrows.

Figured that's what we'd find.

And where there's a sparrow's crest, there's a secret door.

Let's see.

Which way does it want to turn?

Okay,

that way didn't work.

Let's try

up and back.

It opens into another one of those goddamn tunnels.

Those fuckers could have snuck in here anytime they wanted to.

I don't know.

That statue was pretty pretty friggin' heavy.

With all the paranormal lead machine inside this place.

And Sheriff the statue likely moved itself out of the way.

Could be.

So, what should we do about it?

Well, could block it up, or see where it goes.

Hell, we could be gave it in.

Maybe sure to keep the hell out of here.

But when we could break the door shut again and load the area with motion cameras, at least it'll feel like

Please, please let me go.

Please don't do this.

Don't send me down there, please.

The father wants me to have a child in the name.

It will be done to horror.

Such breakfast

is a new vision.

The Gentleman from Hell is a Maltopia production.

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

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

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