The Gentleman From Hell |S1| Ep. 7

Rusty Quill presents

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Phil, Phyllis,

you okay,

Phil.

Phil, you okay?

What happened?

The...

The...

Hyena.

What?

The hyena!

The fucking hyena!

It was here, in my room!

It's okay.

Take it easy.

Breathe.

Let it go.

It leaped at me.

Oh, Jesus Christ, its face.

Oh, it's goddamn teeth.

Oh, I closed my eyes, but when I opened them, it was gone.

Are you sure you weren't dreaming?

Don't Don't you fucking dare, Mace.

I saw it.

Just like Leon.

It was here, in this very room.

Take a whiff, Mace.

You can still smell the thing.

Yeah.

Yeah, yes, you can.

And look, down here.

Oh, God.

Those are some great,

big, muddy bar prints, all right?

Why are the lights off?

I thought the generator was up and running.

Lightning must have hit it.

Alright.

We're gonna need to clear the house.

Figure out where the fucker is, where it came in.

Then, I'm gonna have to see about the Jenny.

What are you doing, Phil?

What does it look like I'm doing?

I'm getting my flashlight and my gun.

We're right here.

You can lead the gun.

The hell I can.

There's no way I'm running around unarmed with that damned thing on the loose.

Besides, if you.

What the hell was listen!

Jesus!

Come on, let's go.

Phil, stay close.

Don't you worry about that.

Okay, let's keep it down.

Slow down, Mace.

We could miss something.

I want to see this fucker with my own eyes.

Over there, at the table, more tracks.

I see him.

That's the basement door just opened.

Unlocked.

My God!

What the hell is happening?

No goddamn hyena opens locks.

It's not a hyena.

It's something else.

Something...

demonic.

Whatever it is, it's in the cellar.

Let's go.

Door's wide open, and the tracks go right down.

Cover me.

I'm going down first.

Mace, no!

Don't go down there!

I can feel it

waiting.

She's got a point.

Might be better not to go where it's leading us.

I'm not buying any of this till I see it.

Don't be stupid.

It wants you, us, to make a mistake.

It's playing some kind of game.

Then you two stay here.

I'm going down.

God damn it, Mace.

Oh, guy's as stubborn as a friggin' mule.

We can't let him go alone.

All right, let's go.

Just keep that gun down while you're behind me.

I will.

Mace, where are you?

Mace?

I'm right here!

Outside the room where they snatched all the art.

Tracks me right in there.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

You don't just take off like that.

The fucking thing is baiting us.

You too thick to realize that?

Christ!

Yeah, yeah, that's why I left the Bureau.

Couldn't follow directions.

You getting anything, Phil?

Like, you know, psychically?

I don't know quite how to describe it.

It's like the whole atmosphere's changed.

Like we are between worlds, or

below them.

I'm taking the doorway.

Cover me.

You got it.

Please, please be careful.

This is more than a haunting.

More than a possession.

On one.

two.

Jesus,

it's

fucking real.

Please don't kill me.

You fucking son of a bitch.

They didn't give us any choice!

God damn you!

We didn't have a choice!

Stop it!

Stop it!

Don't you see what you're trying to do!

It ran behind the big painting over there.

The one with the dust cover.

Kill that, fucker!

Hold up!

Hold up, I said.

It's gotta be dead behind there.

Just stay put and keep me covered, alright?

I'm gonna go take a look.

I got your cover.

Leon, don't!

It's all right, Phil.

I'm just gonna look.

What the fuck?

There's nothing back here.

It's gone.

It's gone.

It's fucking impossible.

It's gotta be over there.

Where is it?

Where the fuck is it?

Mace, stop!

You must calm down.

Don't tell me to calm down.

You hear what that thing said to me?

You know who that was?

Yes, we all heard it.

Now for fuck's sake, get a hold of yourself.

You're not helping the situation.

I...

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to snap at you, Phil.

It's just.

I know.

You needn't apologize, Mason.

That's what this thing wants.

To confuse and demoralize.

To play havoc with us.

Man,

I really hope Hughes foots the bill for the damages.

Who knows how much these paintings are worth?

We may have just lost any money we stood to make.

And maybe a whole lot more.

Yank that dust plot of the last one.

Let's see how bad it is.

Sure.

I'm afraid to even look.

Oh, God.

It's a painting of the hyena.

But who's the guy it's sitting next to?

And there's not a single bullet hole anywhere.

So, what do we want to do?

Cause I got no clue.

Never even heard a ship like this, let alone seen it with my own two eyes.

Now we know that Jenny wasn't even hit by lightning.

The thing just turned off.

The intelligent decision decision would be to steer clear of this place altogether.

We should pack up and leave as soon as we're able.

I'm all for that.

Isn't there something else we could do?

Now, you know, we're pissing away an awful lot of money if we just take off.

I'd much rather piss away money than my life.

We all heard the voice.

We all know who that was, or at least who it was imitating.

Do you really want to deal with all that again?

He doesn't care.

He's just looking for a payday, aren't you, big guy?

I told you that shit in confidence, asshole.

What are you two talking about?

Ah, fuck.

You're a mind reader, so you probably guess.

I have no idea what I'm doing with this house I bought.

I was hoping for a spot for the kids, and now I'm practically broke.

If I bail on this, I'll be totally wiped out.

Look, I can understand your predicaments, but you'll do no good for your children if you're dead.

I thought I I saw on one of those paranormal shows that ghosts can't really hurt anyone.

I mean, so far it's just been messing with us, right?

We're in the middle of a city whose entire population vanished without a trace.

What the hell are you talking about?

Look, I don't fucking know.

Maybe...

Maybe if you guys want to take off, I'll call up some of the old timers.

I know a few retired guys that do security, maybe they...

There's something else.

Something I haven't spoken about.

I've been keeping it to myself, as I didn't think either of you would listen.

But after tonight,

well,

I think you're more than ready.

I've been

hearing voices.

Well, that's kind of what you do, isn't it?

Listen to what spirits have to say?

These aren't like any spirits I ever heard.

What do they say?

Nothing kind.

Mostly that something horrible is here.

Something waiting.

That if we don't leave soon

It'll be too late Well, that settles it, right?

We're out of here What about getting help?

You know some ghost hunt outfit.

I've heard they even do exorcisms and whatnot Jesus Christ you really are desperate aren't you?

We're ex-FBI if we can't do anything What are a bunch of goofballs with temperature guns and tape recorders gonna do?

Well, back before I started working with you two, I happened to have occasionally worked with some of those goofballs with temperature guns, and they seem to know a thing or two.

Moreover, their input could be of great value if we intend to listen to that tape.

What about an actual priest?

I mean, if this shit is all real, they must know something about heading it off, right?

I suppose it's possible.

I can't believe we're even talking about this.

So here's the thing: assuming some supernatural force really did spirit away a whole town of people,

how the hell are we gonna get anyone to believe us?

We were sent here to crack a nuts and bolts case, not play ghost hunters.

If we go to Hughes with a bunch of spooky stories, he won't pay us.

He'll laugh at us.

Leon's right.

I can say unequivocally that this town was the victim of something supernatural, and that's not going to help Hughes sell a true crime novel.

Okay, so I go to Hughes and tell him what we found.

If he balks, we walk.

Simple as that.

But if he's game,

we hit him up for some help.

That way.

Did it ever occur to either of you that this thing knows what went down at the pinnacle?

It practically spelled it out for us down there.

And you two want to bring in a bunch of dime store ghost snoops it might find some way of sounding out?

We did nothing to be ashamed of.

We weren't given a choice, remember?

I'm not sure what I remember remember anymore.

But if it got out, what we did,

not everyone will be so forgiven.

Christ.

I knew we should have come clean right from the start.

Then we wouldn't have to deal with this.

Deal with what?

Coming away with our names intact.

It wasn't gonna do anyone any good to tell her like it happened.

I see.

So you're okay with taking a chance on it coming out now?

I thought you were the one who didn't want that shit back under the microscope to paraphrase paraphrase you.

Funny, how suddenly you've changed your mind.

Look,

I don't think what some gang of Ghostbusters might say is going to make a bit of difference to anyone.

So.

So why bother then, huh?

Why bring them on board if no one cares what they have to say?

You may be one hell of a case, Cracker Mace, but you can't cover up to save your life.

Can we please turn down the heat a little?

What happened at the pinnacle happened because horrible people chose to do unspeakable things.

I was there too, and what I saw left for no doubts about what had to be done.

And the two of you did it.

We saved countless lives.

There was no other way.

The story we told may be a lie, but it was told for our own sanity, not to cover up some kind of crime.

Telling the truth for only the truth's sake isn't always the best decision.

Do you know how many grieving families I've lied to?

Telling them that a loved one didn't suffer before they died.

Knowing all along that their departed wife or husband or child endured endured hours of agony before they crossed over.

What good would it do if they knew the truth?

Sometimes the truth isn't worth the pain it causes, and so it was for the three of us.

We should never have left the bureau.

You didn't have to follow me out, you know.

You could have stayed.

I couldn't stay after all that shit either.

I thought all of us going it alone would mean we'd keep out of the thresher.

So much for that idea.

Look,

however, we got here, we're here.

Now we've got a decision to make.

And despite my own want to get the hell out of here, there is one more consideration we've not discussed.

Which is...

There's real danger here, Mason.

Something supernatural snatched up the population of an entire city.

Perhaps we have an obligation to see this through to some kind of conclusion.

God knows no one else will.

That's what worries me.

All the people who've come here over the years, TV shows, paranormal groups, government agencies.

And whatever's here suddenly decides to show itself now?

To us?

Why?

I don't know.

Leaving without breakfast?

You mean why am I leaving without making you breakfast, right?

Am I that transparent?

I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of fending for myself.

Hey, Phil, your pancakes and eggs are already in waiting.

Capable of fending for yourself, huh?

Fending isn't exclusive of enlisting help.

Something you Yanks taught us Brits quite some time ago.

I filled your thermos up with coffee.

It's on the kitchen counter.

Thanks.

Any

for what it's worth,

me too, man.

We were all in a bad place last night.

Well, I'm glad to see we're clearing the air, but need I remind you, gentlemen, we're still in a bad place.

Now, having had the opportunity to sleep on it, are we all still certain we want to go through with this?

As for me, after talking everything through last night,

I'm willing to stay on a little longer.

If Hughes is willing to get us help and up our pay,

I mean,

if we can make enough so we won't ever have to do this sort of shit ever again,

then sure.

Well, we might not have to worry about it if we price ourselves out of the gig.

Or if Hughes doesn't buy all this, but decides to fire us and bring in a bunch of paranormal pros.

if that's even a thing excuse me

i meant professional ghostbusters there's no question that you're awoke like psychic apology accepted i spent part of the morning going through the tapes just listening to the opening comments and taking some notes to organize them i'm pretty sure we heard about the town being self-sufficient But I don't remember the farm and greenhouse being as big as Ben says on one of the tapes.

Figured Phil and I could drive out and take a look while you're gone.

Just look.

We don't make any major moves unless we're all together.

Capish?

Trust me, I'd much rather we all go to Port-aufoy, but my car sickness nearly killed me on the drive up.

And after last night, well,

my nerves.

It's all right, Phil.

Won't take me long.

And hopefully, we'll have help soon.

Or I'll walk in papers.

Either way, things are gonna start looking up.

I wish we'd had the time to convert all these tapes to digital.

Be a lot easier to listen to over the car radio.

Ever since we arrived, the least of our inconveniences has been listening to audio the old-fashioned way.

I see you've quit any illusions of having quit.

Ugh, please, Cold Sparra is the last place I'd want to go cold turkey.

Yeah, I suppose you got a point there.

So, you ready for this?

That I am.

Hit play, my good man, and let's hear what Ben has to say about all this self-sufficiency business.

I've spent much of the night revising my original manuscript.

Access to to my father's library has been an invaluable resource.

All that concealed wisdom now at my fingertips.

My newfound wealth hasn't diminished my desire to complete my work.

If anything, it has enhanced and perhaps even enabled it.

In this most recent edit, and in an attempt to curry favor with the fringe audience I'm likely to attract, I've begun referring to paranormal phenomena phenomena as damned, in strict accordance with Charles Fort, the father of the weird.

His notion that instances of the paranormal are so rejected by mainstream science as to warrant such an accursed label aligns perfectly with my own views.

And speaking of views, Mine are currently quite obscured by fog.

The world beyond my bedroom window is virtually non-existent.

Typically, I can see the twinkling lights of the city, but not tonight.

The urge to get out there and drive around in all that mist is irresistible.

When I was but a broke and aspiring writer, I wanted nothing more than to motor about at night, especially through the mist-covered countryside, listening to music as I traveled to nowhere in particular, turning over my thoughts as I went.

However, having very little money for fuel and risking an accident due to the fog greatly constrained my inclination for it.

But now, wealthy and in possession of a vehicle, multiple vehicles, with more than adequate fog lighting, there really isn't anything to limit my impulses.

I'm not sure how I got here, but it seems I'm quite close to the farm Rupert told me about, the one that supplies much of the city's food.

I imagined it was large, but nothing like this.

The farmhouse itself is massive.

And the barns and silos in the fog, silhouetted by security lights, give the place an almost otherworldly look.

It's odd, though.

They all seem strangely...

crooked.

I'm leaving the car.

I was driving with the window down and I thought I heard someone call out for help.

So I've got to go and look.

The road only goes so far, so

it seemed to have come from the field.

Hello?

Is anyone there?

I think there's someone out here in this field with me.

I

can hear footsteps.

The Gentleman from Hell is a Meltopia production.

Today's episode was written by Mark Anzalone and performed by Steven Zivik, Sam Stark, Aubrey Akers, and Mark Anzalone.

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

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