Transcript
Yvette Gentile (0:01)
Every mystery has an answer, but some have way more than one possibility. I'm Yvette Gentile. And I'm her sister Racha Pecorero. Every week on our podcast so Supernatural, we invite you to explore the unknown and to consider the many theories behind each unsolved mystery. We'll guide you as you question the world you think you know through investigations into spine chilling hauntings, unexplainable encounters, strange disappearances, and so much more. So if you're ready to be haunted by stories of the unsolved and of the unknown, listen if you dare to sew Supernatural every Friday wherever you get your podcasts.
Blue Buffalo Advertiser (0:49)
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Yvette Gentile (1:17)
You'll float too from the director of it comes a horrifying new story set in 1960s Derry, Maine that explores the origins of Pennywise the Clown. Get ready to go back to where it all began. The new HBO original series, welcome to Derry premieres October 26th at 9pm on HBO.
Alice (1:40)
Max.
Yvette Gentile (1:52)
Hi listeners. I have a story I want to tell you.
Jack (1:57)
There was this doctor over at St. Augury's who had killed his patients. Oh yes, it was madness.
Alice (2:04)
Aren't you afraid the light take might get you? I'm sorry I didn't listen to you.
Jack (2:10)
That adrenaline. I want more of it. I snapped.
Alice (2:14)
Totally lost it. He had no idea what was on those tapes. It was like a song.
Jack (2:22)
Ollie and the Outcast so gather round.
Alice (2:25)
Gather round and listen.
Yvette Gentile (2:31)
Close.
Alice (2:44)
I stared into the bathroom mirror at my own dispirited reflect. I undid the pins that held my hair up and slipped them into the pockets of my skirt. Jack had invited me over to his house for our third date and I still wasn't sure how I felt about him. Granted, he'd been nothing but pleasant, funny and charming so far. A perfect gentleman. All the same, I couldn't help but thinking that something seemed off. He was almost too good to be true. A tall, dark haired prince who had stepped straight out of the pages of a fairy tale. When he asked me to come to his house, I said yes. Unlike me, I know. But I didn't even hesitate. His voice, it's hard to argue with a voice like that, but maybe I'm rushing into things. There you go again. You've always wanted to date a genuinely nice guy, and now that you've found one, you're making up excuses to stop seeing him. Do you want to end up with someone like Robbie again? No. No way, I said aloud. That's not what this is. Jack's just. What? Too charming? Too handsome? God, I was being ridiculous. I didn't want to date anyone like him ever again. Forced to hold my tongue, bullied into silence. No, I deserve better than that. Now what was the point of moving away otherwise? I left Jack's bathroom and walked down the dark hallway that led to the den, hurriedly smoothing out the wrinkles in my skirt. Even before Jack had given me the tour, I noticed that his cabin, if you can even call it that, was huge and quite modern, made out of glass and steel with clean, boxy lines. Makes sense for a doctor, I guess. Shiny, sterile, quiet. Not really aligned with the Cabin in the woods aesthetic. But there were no neighbors nearby to complain about it anyway. Rain pelted the ceiling and windows furiously. A fresh peel of thunder made me flinch. I quickened my pace, eager to get back to the warm and well lit living room where Jack and a lovely bottle of red wine were waiting for me. Before I had gotten up, he was in the middle of one of his more amusing anecdotes. Where he was. Dread pulsed through my stomach and I paused, listening intently, was that it had come from my right. A flash of lightning showed me a metal door. The garage. I remember Jack's tour and how he skipped it over. Suddenly I thought of a very different fairy tale. I once read, one accompanied by a series of illustrations. They'd shown Bluebeard's newest wife opening the forbidden door, glancing around furtively as she did so, only to freeze in horror at the sight of his previous wives dangling from the ceiling, their blood staining the floorboards red. I stared hard through the sea of darkness that led to the garage. Maybe it's an animal. Maybe something wandered inside like a raccoon. Maybe it was the wind. I hadn't even realized I was talking aloud, but the sound of my own voice anchored me, brought me back to reality, the certainty that I'd heard a scream, a human scream, faded away. I ran a hand through my hair and huffed out a disgusted laugh at myself. I clearly needed that glass of wine. I let Jack know that some kind of animal had wandered into his garage and we'd go investigate to get A flash of terror kept me frozen in place, broken by a snap decision. Someone needs help. Without thinking, I lunged towards where I'd last seen the garage door, searching for a handle in the darkness. As soon as I stepped inside, the automatic lights clicked on and blinded me. When my eyes adjusted, I stifled a scream. A dog kennel had been placed in the corner of the garage, and inside of it was a woman. Naked, pale, and emaciated. She had long brown hair and a spray of freckles across her nose, not unlike my own. The compact crate forced her into a perpetual crouch. She hardly had the space to lift her head to look at me through cracked lips. She whispered, please help me. My mind consumed with panic, I ran towards her and knelt down to unlock the kennel door. I wasted precious seconds tugging at it uselessly before realizing that a padlock was attached. I spun around to look for something that could help. I hadn't paid much attention to the rest of the room until now, too preoccupied with the miniature cage and its occupant. But the room was mostly bare. A metal table stood in the center, right over a drain set into the concrete floor. Stained leather straps dangled from it. There was a stack of plaster plastic crates next to it as well, with a radio sitting silently on top. Every drawer was filled with various implements, scalpels, scissors, forceps, needles, bone saws and knives, surgical and non surgical. Don't think about why these tools are here, I told myself. Focus on getting her free. I picked up a knife that was nearly as long as my hand with a serrated edge, and sped back towards the cage. It was hard to meet our eyes, they were so full of terror and pain, but I managed it. I'm going to get you out of here, I promised, crouched down next to her. The similarity between us struck me anew. But she was younger than I'd initially estimated. Not a woman my age, but instead in her early 20s. Or maybe younger. She drew a deep, shuddering breath as I pushed the knife's edge into a metal bar and began to saw back and forth. Who did this to you? All right, dumb question, given that this was Jack's house. But it was hard to believe that everything he'd shown me tonight had been a lie. The wine, the compliments. God, he even asked how my mother was. How could anyone be so monstrously good at faking compassion? As though it was a costume that he could put on or take off at will. It went past acting and into a whole other realm of lunacy. He asked me to come with him. I was walking my dog and he said I didn't want to, but when he spoke I couldn't run. The rest of her words dissolved into incoherent sobs. It's okay. It's okay. What's your name? Ella. Okay, Ella. I handed her my phone and continued grinding the bars of the kennel with a knife. See if you can call 91 1. How long had it been since I told Jack that I was going to the bathroom? What if he found me here? I had no doubt he'd be able to overpower me. He was over 6ft tall and I was all of 5ft and 2 inches. It says that there's no signal. Just keep trying. The bar I've been sawing at broken half. For the first time I allowed myself to believe that we'd make it. Once I got Ella out of this kennel, we'd run for my car and we keep driving until we reached a police station. I started on the next metal rung with renewed vigor. I didn't need to break all of them, just enough that she'd be able to crawl out.