02: WILLOW
Summary
Grace takes Bea straight into the deep end with her first case: A boogeyman is missing a very key part of something important to him. It plays the music of the night, giving him a sense of peace, covering up the sounds of the world… He just wants his groove back, is all. Plus, it’s time to hire a new assistant, and there’s a single standout in a world of duds.
Content Warnings: blood
Transcript
GRACE_NARRATION: I don’t know why I did it.
I’ve been a vampire for… quite some time, and it’s been a while since I’ve even considered turning someone. People have asked before, they’ve pleaded, whispered in my ear: please, let me join you in eternity. It’s not that I haven’t been tempted, but a flash of a memory was all it took to remind me of the promise I made to myself a long time ago: I will be better than the vampire that turned me. So far, I’ve kept my promise. Vampires are sustained on the blood of the living, yes, but sometimes, they are nourished by a healthy dose of spite.
God. I can’t believe I watched Bea bleed out on the floor of my office. In the presence of that much blood, I should have been ready to feast. I could have fed from her. I could have hastened her end in the kindest, sweetest way. Maybe I should have. But for the first time in a long, long time, I didn’t fee; a trace of hunger. I just felt fear. I couldn’t let her go. Not now. Not yet.
We have work to do.
BEA: [SFX: walks in, sits down at the table] Good evening.
GRACE: Good evening. This might be a silly question, but… how are you feeling?
BEA: You’re right, that is silly.
GRACE: I apologise. We can talk about other things.
BEA: Yeah, I think that would be good. What do you want to talk about?
GRACE: Well, if you’re feeling up for it, I have a case that needs digging into.
BEA: Does it involve finding the person who turned me into a knife block and returning the favour?
GRACE: Yes, but no. I am looking into that, don’t worry. But we do have other business to attend to in the meantime.
BEA: I hate to kick a gift horse in the mouth or whatever the saying is, but I have to admit, the idea of becoming an immortal being and then still having to sit here and file stuff for you makes me want to walk into the sun.
GRACE: I don’t want that for you either. It would be a waste in… many ways. What I was going to ask was if you’d be interested in coming out on an assignment with me tonight? We’ve been hired to find a missing item.
BEA: You want me to help you… what, find someone’s keys? Look for gold bullion? What are we doing here?
GRACE: The client is a friend of mine but… Bea, I’m going to be honest with you, things are going to get a lot… weirder before they get any better.
BEA: And I’m supposed to react to this how?
GRACE_NARRATION: There’s an edge to her voice.
GRACE: I don’t know.
BEA: Well you should! You’re the one who put me in this… whatever this is!
GRACE: Predicament.
GRACE_NARRATION: Her eyes look red. Bloodshot.
BEA: Sure! Fine! Great word, can’t wait to bust that out on a crossword, “49 Down: Jam or pickle but not for eating, 11 letters.”
GRACE_NARRATION: Anger. That’s a given. But so is the hunger.
GRACE: Bea, I can’t help you with anything unless you… calm down-
BEA: Don’t tell me to calm down! [SFX: she slaps the table and you hear the wood crack] I’m sorry, I’m just really feeling it right now… I’ll replace the table.
GRACE: That was, once again, a poor choice of words. I don’t care about the table. I just want to help. Please.
GRACE_NARRATION: The reaction to the earliest hungers can vary. Some become ravenous, monstrous. They rush into the world filled with bloodlust. Others suppress their desires, hoping they’ll pass. It’s been only a couple days but Bea has been avoiding discussing eating. She resists any offers. She does not want to entertain it, although I can see how it is weighing on her. She looks clammy, her forehead knit in frustration. I believe the term the youth use for this is hangry.
BEA: Fine. Ok. Let’s do this. Let’s go find your buddy’s missing vase or vape or wedding ring or illuminated manuscript.
GRACE: It’s a needle for a record player.
BEA: A needle.
GRACE: Yep.
BEA: And have you told this person that they can buy one? Here, [SFX: begins rifling through purse] I’m sure I can scrounge enough cash up to get them a new part-
GRACE: No, the item is highly specific. You can’t just buy a new one online.
BEA: What, is it really old or something?
GRACE: Yes, in a sense.
BEA: Ok. And who’s the friend?
GRACE: …
BEA: Grace, this is not a hard question.
GRACE: I’m searching for the right words.
BEA: Who is the friend? Some sort of… other weirder Dracula? Frankenstein’s monster? Are they the boogeyman?
GRACE: …
BEA: Which one of those was right?
GRACE: I have been… omitting some things to you about the nature of this business for quite some time. I do more here than the standard… detective tomfoolery. I have a lot of clients.
BEA: I’ve seen your client lists.
GRACE: You haven’t seen them all. And I think it’s just easier if I show you.
BEA: This is going to get weirder before it gets better, huh? You know what? Don’t even answer that. I’ll get my coat.
[SFX: they walk out and it transitions to driving in the car]
GRACE_NARRATION: Bea is angry. It’s understandable. I would never say this to her, but, in a lot of ways dealing with a newly-turned vampire is like parenting a teenager. I can only hope her rebellious phase is less… destructive… than my own was. I think keeping her busy is the right thing to do, but… I don’t know. I never wanted to be anyone’s creator again. But here I am. It’s… a difficult transition for most. Your sense of self can shatter and you have to rebuild, assembling the shards of your former life. It’s sharp. Sometimes, you bleed.
God, I worry about what will happen if she continues to baulk at the thought of blood. She needs it. When I put my hand on her shoulder, I can feel an energy rumbling within her. [SFX: they get out of the car and walk up to a small house. Grace stops Bea]
GRACE: Wait. Don’t knock. I need to make sure no one is home.
BEA: I thought you said we were going to see your friend?
GRACE: We are, and he lives here, but he’s not the owner.
BEA: Ok. Tenant? Roommate?
GRACE: Sort of. [SFX: she leans against the door, listening] Ok, no one else is here. [SFX: she pulls a key out from her pocket on a thin chain] Oh, uh… ok. I should remind you, you have to be invited into a home.
BEA: … oh fuck off, I thought you were joking.
GRACE: Look, I know it’s a pain, but there are ways to work around it, alright? Obviously, the best option is to have someone let you in…
BEA: Ok, what happens if I just… walk in.
GRACE: Want to try?
BEA: Is it going to kill me?
GRACE: No, but it will-
BEA: You know what? Don’t spoil it for me. I’ve got a whole new world to explore. Let’s just… try.
GRACE: [SFX: She unlocks and opens the door] After you.
BEA: Thanks. [SFX: she steps forward and then a horrible static screeching noise happens for a moment as she crosses the threshold. Bea lets out a pained noise] Ahhhhh, FUCK.
GRACE: Yeah. Unpleasant, right?
BEA: That… It felt like my entire body was encased in sandpaper. Everything… It all hurt.
GRACE: Yeah, you could technically keep walking into the house, but every step would be painful. Thankfully, I have a work around. [SFX: she digs around in her bag and then rolls out a thin mat]
BEA: … a welcome mat?
GRACE: Smarter, not harder. Bea?
BEA: [distracted] Hm?
GRACE: What do you see?
BEA: Uh, nothing.
GRACE_NARRATION: There’s a figure walking on the sidewalk further down the road. They haven’t noticed us, but Bea’s eyes are on them. She’s sharp, her mouth a sly smile. For a split second, I see the muscles on her body tense as if she is preparing to chase after them. And then… she shakes it off.
BEA: This actually works?
GRACE: Yes. Works best when no one’s around, though. Come, they’re in the bedroom.
BEA: Yeah… [SFX: they walk into the house and close the door. It’s quiet inside, no one is around, and they quietly walk down the hallway to the bedroom. They step inside onto the carpet and wait] Grace, no one is here. [SFX: puts hand on wall and pulls back] Ewww, what did I just put my hand in? There’s something on the wall over here.
GRACE: Shh. Wait. [SFX: there’s silence, and then the sound of scratching, a fingernail on wood. It gets faster until it sounds like many thick fingernails on wood. From beneath the bed, a hand claws its way out, the wood of the frame creaking. A clawed hand slams down and drags its nails across the fabric. The figure pulls itself towards Bea and Grace]
BEA: What the fu-
GRACE: It’s ok, it’s ok!
BEA: Whose hand is that-
GRACE: Don’t panic. Let me do the talking. Hello Argus.
ARGUS: GRACE
GRACE: How are you?
ARGUS: I AM PERTURBED.
GRACE: Understandable. I had a couple of things I wanted to ask you before we got started.
ARGUS: WHAT IS SHE
GRACE: This is Bea. She’s another detective.
ARGUS: SHE DRINKS
GRACE: Yes.
ARGUS: NEW. NEW BLOOD. NEW AND SCARED. THANK YOU.
BEA: For what?
ARGUS: FEAR, FEAR IS GOOD. FEAR IS FOOD. I HUNGER. I HUNGER. NOW I HUNGER LESS.
BEA: … ok.
GRACE: We don’t want to take up too much of your time, so I’ll get to it: You believe the piece for the record player was taken?
ARGUS: YES. ANOTHER HAND IN THE DARKNESS STIRRED. I HEARD THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT AND NOW IT IS GONE. I WORRY. I WORRY.
GRACE: Any idea who it was?
ARGUS: I MAY. THEY SMELLED WRONG.
GRACE: Wrong how?
ARGUS: OTHERS LIKE ME, THERE IS A SMELL. WE KNOW EACH OTHER. I DO NOT SEE WELL-
GRACE: Yes, I know.
ARGUS: YES BUT YOUR PARTNER DOES NOT. SHE FEARS. IT IS NICE. BUT YOUR HEART BEATS A LITTLE STRONGER AROUND HER. SO I DO NOT WISH TO CAUSE FEAR.
BEA: What?
GRACE: [a little taken aback] Never mind that.
ARGUS: I LISTEN, I HEAR. YOU STAND CLOSE TO BE CLOSE. TO KEEP SAFE. I CANNOT FEED ON THAT. BUT IT IS NICE.
GRACE: Argus, what was different about the one who took the piece of the record player?
ARGUS: THERE WAS THE SMELL OF OIL. HEAVY. HEAVY HEAVY. THICK.
GRACE: Oil… what kind? Car? Industrial?
ARGUS: SWEET. LIKE LEAVES. PEPPER. HERB. BUT WRONG. RUINED.
GRACE: Interesting.
BEA: Sorry, just curious, what makes the record player special?
GRACE: Bea, I’ll ask that you only observe-
ARGUS: I WORK BY NIGHT. THE SOUNDS OF DARKNESS, THEY ARE HOME. BUT IN DAYLIGHT, I SUFFER. THE NOISE, IT SMOTHERS ME. IT BRINGS PAIN, MY BONES ACHE AND MY EARS SHUDDER. WE WERE NEVER MEANT FOR CITIES. WE WERE NEVER MEANT FOR THIS WORLD. SO WE ADAPT. WE BUILD MACHINES TO CANCEL THE NOISE. THEY ARE FOR US, ONLY US.
BEA: And it’s a record player?
ARGUS: WORDS THAT DESCRIBE. BUT NOT EXACT. LOOK, COME HERE.
BEA: Is that safe?
GRACE: Argus is fine.
BEA: Ok… [SFX: she carefully crouches down and looks under the bed. Argus takes a playful swipe at her and she leaps back]. Hey!
GRACE: Argus!
ARGUS: SORRY, FORCE OF HABIT.
BEA: It’s fine, it’s fine, you barely missed ripping my face off. All good.
GRACE: What did you see?
BEA: Small machine, mechanical in nature, like a cylinder covered in ticky-tocky parts and… like I don’t want to say it was skin but it looks like skin? There’s a little joiner and then… well, I guess normally it would be the arm but there’s a little piece of… uh, either wood or bone where something once was.
ARGUS: IT PLAYS MUSIC OF THE NIGHT. THE MAIN PART, A PIECE MADE BY MY BABAU. IT PLAYS TO HIDE THE SOUNDS OF THE DAYTIME. NOW I HEAR SOUND. BIRD AND VOICE AND TREE AND WIND. IT IS TIRING. I DO NOT SLEEP.
BEA: You sit under the bed and listen to music?
ARGUS: IT GIVES ME THE MENTAL SPACE TO RECEDE, TO TURN INWARD, TO RETURN TO THE SHADOWS. I RETURN HOME.
BEA: And this place is…
ARGUS: WORK.
BEA: What does the needle look like?
ARGUS: A FINGER.
BEA: Like a finger-finger?
ARGUS: YES. BABAU’S NAIL, A POINT. IT GUIDES THE SOUND. TO PLAY THE SOUND, YOU MUST HAVE A PIECE OF ONE OF US. FAMILY. FRIEND. LOVE. A NEW ONE MUST BE GIVEN WILLINGLY. FOR ME TO REPLACE IT REQUIRES A GIFT, BUT I DO NOT WANT A GIFT. I WANT MINE BACK. ONLY WE KNOW THE GROOVES. PLEASE. I JUST WANT TO SLEEP. THE MUSIC IT PLAYS, THE RECORDS, THEY ARE… SPECIAL. THEY ARE SPECIAL SOUNDS. THE PLAYER MUST BE MADE IN A WAY THAT ONLY WE CAN LISTEN. YOU, SCARED ONE, WOULD HEAR NOTHING BUT THE CREAK OF FLOORS, THE IMPERCEPTIBLE RUMBLE THAT FILLS YOU WITH DREAD. BUT FOR ME? PEACE. BABAU’S FINGER, IT KNOWS THE GROOVES. IT KNOWS THE RHYTHM. I WOULD LIKE THOSE GROOVES BACK.
BEA: Did she leave this to you?
ARGUS: SHE WAS STILL ALIVE WHEN SHE GAVE IT TO ME. ANOTHER GREW BACK.
BEA: Oh, uh… sorry, this might be a little callous, but could you use… one of your own?
ARGUS: IT IS NOT JUST THE MECHANISM, IT IS THE SENTIMENTALITY OF THIS ITEM. SHE HAS SINCE LEFT THIS PLANE. I MISS MY BABAU. IT IS ALL I HAVE LEFT. ANOTHER HAND CAN DO THE SAME BUT IT IS NOT THE SAME TO ME.
GRACE: Do you remember anything else, Argus?
ARGUS: A LAUGH. SOFT AND SWEET. A MEMORY. PAINFUL, PAINFUL. SOMEONE I LOST LONG AGO. I KNEW THEM ONCE, GRACE. BUT I DO NOT KNOW WHERE THEY WENT. ANOTHER OF MY KIND. REVENGE FOR THE SILENCE I LEFT THEM IN.
GRACE: Never thought of you as a romantic.
ARGUS: WE ALL HAVE SOMEONE TO LOSE.
GRACE: Well put. We’ll do what we can.
BEA: Can we go?
GRACE: Yes, I think we got what we need.
[SFX: As the narration happens, they begin to drive]
GRACE_NARRATION: She doesn’t say anything as we leave, and I lock up. I don’t blame her. I imagine it’s jarring to find out that the boogeyman is real.
BEA: Who’s babau?
GRACE: Grandmother, I believe. Or some sort of elder. It’s hard to get a concise answer. But “grandparent” probably works best.
BEA: And he’s not… the only one like him?
GRACE: The only boogeyman? No, there are many. It’s a species, not one specific being.
BEA: Huh. I guess that explains why there’s so many versions of… them throughout the world.
GRACE: You’re not the only one who hears things go bump in the night.
BEA: There’s just… how many… creatures? Are there? What language should I be using here?
GRACE: Atypical beings. Exceptional beings. “Beings” is fine.
BEA: How many different “beings” are there?
GRACE: Many. Likely more than I’m aware of. Cities tend to attract them. Easier to fit in. Find others like you.
BEA: How accurate are the stories?
GRACE: Which ones?
BEA: Fables, horror movies, whatever.
GRACE: Depends. But there is usually a nugget of truth worked in.
BEA: I guess like the vampire stuff.
GRACE: Yes, like the “vampire stuff.”
BEA: Sun hurts, can’t have garlic bread, can’t just walk into a building… We really are going to need a new assistant.
GRACE: That’s going to be your next task, get a job posting up.
BEA: “Must be willing to work nights, type O blood, lover of horror movies, proficient with Microsoft Office?”
GRACE: We’ll deal with that tomorrow. For now, tell me what you saw inside the house.
BEA: Uh… post-war bungalow, recent renos, new paint on the walls… good landscaping.
GRACE_NARRATION: Come on, Bea. You can see more… fuck it, I’ll just tell her.
GRACE: Your senses are heightened, Bea. Sight, smell-
BEA: Incredibly aware of that one after I took the bus to work today. I’m going to drive next time.
GRACE: What else did you notice in the house?
BEA: There… there was a smell. In the room, by the bed. Green and floral? Or… plant-like… savoury, I guess. Vegetal.
GRACE: What did it remind you of?
BEA: Honestly? Salad.
GRACE: I noticed the same thing.
BEA: Is this a test?
GRACE: Maybe.
BEA: Goddamnit. Ok, by the wall, I touched something and it was… greasy.
GRACE: Oily?
BEA: … yeah. [SFX: sniffs hand] Hmm.
GRACE: What is it?
BEA: Salad. Again. But… off. Spoiled. Musty.
GRACE: Any ideas?
BEA: It’s… familiar. [SFX: sniffs again] Hm. Uh… olive oil?
GRACE: I think you are correct.
BEA: So a greasy vegetarian broke in?
GRACE: No, it’s rancid though, right?
BEA: That’s the word I was looking for. It’s bad. Wrong. Ruined.
GRACE: I’m going to guide you on this one, because you’re admittedly at a disadvantage here. What you need to know is that there are other boogeypeople-
BEA: I’m sorry, I can’t take that name seriously.
GRACE: Well, you have to. The Boogies-
BEA: I’m trying, Grace, I really am.
GRACE: There are a scattered handful through Toronto. Outside of work, they tend to stick to dark corners.
BEA: Indoors or outdoors?
GRACE: Indoors, mostly. They like quiet, hidden spaces. Storage rooms, dark corners, places they won’t be bothered.
BEA: That is a lot of places to look.
GRACE: Yes, but you have a clue. Olive oil.
BEA: So… restaurants? But that would mean that they’re all just hiding in the basement by the bathrooms, which sounds… off. Unless they’re into that.
GRACE: They generally aren’t.
BEA: Ok, so… storage. Stores. Grocery stores. But… lots of olive oil.
GRACE: Any place in mind?
BEA: Not off the top of my head, but I think I’ll start googling tomorrow when we’re back in office.
GRACE: Good. Do you want something to eat?
BEA: No, I’m fine.
GRACE: You don’t look it.
BEA: I’m fine!
GRACE: Alright. Just let me know when you’re ready.
BEA: Whatever.
GRACE_NARRATION: The skin around her eyes is starting to look dark, sallow. Her fatigue moves across her skin like shadows. I have supplies with me, just in case. An inherited violence lingers beneath her skin. I know if something goes wrong, well… There’s a choice I’ll have to make on her behalf that won’t be enjoyable for either of us. I hope, for everyone’s sake, it does not come to that. I am already worried about my decision. I hope I did this for the right reasons, to see her ok. To keep her close.
[SFX: Transition from car to office, Bea walks in]
BEA: Alright, thanks for coming in, if you’re ready, we can get this interview underway… [says it wrong] sorry, Rhys?
RHYS: Rhys. It’s Welsh.
BEA: Are you from there?
RHYS: My mother is.
BEA: Oh, what part?
RHYS: Anglesey.
BEA: That’s very nice.
RHYS: Have you been?
BEA: No, but it sounds cute. Like there should be rolling hills of green and… sheep? Cheese?
RHYS: Do you know anything about Wales?
BEA: We’ve hit my limit. Should we start the interview before I embarrass myself further?
RHYS: Sounds good.
BEA: Alright, first question… Why do you want to work in a detective’s office?
RHYS: Well, I’ve always found myself drawn to… careers outside the norm. I don’t like when I see people treating others poorly, so it’s nice when I can find some sort of way to fix things. I’m determined. I don’t sleep a lot, so working nights isn’t a problem for me. Uh, I have a driver’s licence?
BEA: Honestly, a massive boon because lots of people here don’t.
RHYS: Ah, I’m not originally from here.
BEA: Where are you from?
RHYS: Saskatoon.
BEA: Like the berry?
RHYS: Like the city in Saskatchewan, but yeah. There’s also a berry.
BEA: Great. Ok, uh… tell me about a difficult situation you’ve found yourself in and how did you extricate yourself from it?
RHYS: Extri-what now?
BEA: How did you get out of it?
RHYS: Ah, well, a few years back I was working as a security guard in a mall in Yellowknife and there was a tourist who came in looking for some odd things… [SFX: keeps talking underneath but it transitions to sounding like someone is listening from another room]
GRACE_NARRATION: When do you tell someone a deep secret about yourself? How do you reckon with the fact that, if you aren’t honest, then you are only ever giving a portion of yourself to that person? That you are someone they don’t truly know? I should’ve told Bea the truth about me sooner. But, if I had, would she have been more… willing to accept the Change? I can’t say. All I know is that I can see Bea just itching to say more to this guy about what he might need to expect. That there’s the chance that things will become beyond bizarre, that if he takes this job he will find horrors outside what he could have possibly imagined. I don’t blame her. He does sound promising though.
RHYS: [SFX: audio creeping in a bit] And he kept running around in a circle and uh, charged at me, and that’s when I dodged because I knew they were going to try to hit me with a bat!
GRACE_NARRATION: She seems comfortable with him. Or at least less frustrated than she did with the earlier applicants. Congratulations, Rhys. Here’s to hoping you can survive the first week.
[SFX: Bea walks into Grace’s office and sits down across the desk from her. The phone is ringing but Grace is ignoring it]
BEA: You going to answer that?
GRACE_NARRATION: I know who’s on the other end of the line. Lennox is trying to get in touch. But I’m not ready to speak with him.
GRACE: No, no one I need to talk to.
BEA: Sure. Ugh. I have a headache. Are you really not going to answer that?
GRACE_NARRATION: Unfortunately Lennox has never been good at taking no for an answer.
GRACE: FINE. [SFX: picks up the phone but immediately hangs up with more force than necessary]
BEA: Hey, what did the phone ever do to you?
GRACE: I don’t need my ducts cleaned. That’s all.
BEA: Alright. Being a vampire means I shouldn’t have headaches but here we are, and I just feel very bad. And don’t even ask what I know you’re thinking! But I did do some research to distract myself.
GRACE: And?
BEA: There are a few places in the city that specialise in oils, mostly olive. One is on Roncesvalles, one on Bloor, one is deep in Scarborough, and one in St. Lawrence Market. I took a look at the Bloor one and it’s tiny, basically a closet. The one on Roncey doesn’t have a basement, and the one in Scarborough might just be a front. But there is the one in the basement at the market and I think that might have the best luck of finding this… being there.
GRACE: Do you think you’re comfortable speaking to them on your own?
BEA: Am I going to get my skin torn off?
GRACE: It’s always a possibility. I don’t mean to rip the bandaid off so quickly, but there isn’t exactly an easy way of introducing you to these realities.
BEA: Very good. Anyway, if something goes wrong I can… turn into a bat or something.
GRACE: Bats, plural.
BEA: I’m kidding. It was horrible last time and I don’t think I’ll ever do it again.
GRACE: Don’t write it off, it’s a useful skill. So what did you think of the applicants?
BEA: Duds, most of them. I don’t know. I liked… the Welsh guy? I mean, he’s barely Welsh.
GRACE: The tall one?
BEA: Yeah.
GRACE: I approve. I like a meal.
BEA: You can only hit on him if you don’t hire him.
GRACE: I know, I know. I did that online HR course. But he’s not working here yet, and I can appreciate a work of art when one appears on my doorstep.
BEA: I mean, he’s the best candidate out of all of them.
GRACE: Uh huh.
BEA: What?
GRACE: You’re blushing.
BEA: I am not. Can vampires even blush?
GRACE: If I cut you, do you not bleed?
BEA: … I honestly don’t know the answer to that question.
GRACE: I won’t spoil it for you. So, I see that you’ve set aside some resumés over here…
BEA: Oh, no, those are the ones I’m going to shred immediately.
GRACE: And this one?
BEA: I’m going to burn that one. That guy told me I have a “kind mouth.”
GRACE: Disturbing.
BEA: You’re telling me. Alright, well if we have to pick someone right now, I’m going with… Hunky Brewster. He seems enthusiastic, at least. That’s a plus. And he’s tall, uh… big hands.
GRACE: Excellent.
BEA: … Are we going to tell him about… y’know, the… monster stuff?
GRACE: I didn’t tell you and that seemed to work well for quite some time. I think it best he gets settled before we broach that subject.
BEA: I guess.
GRACE: Would you have preferred if I had told you?
BEA: Honestly, if you had told me off the top, I would’ve thought you’d had a screw loose and left. So… no. It’s probably better to just wait and see. Maybe he’s on the level. Or he’ll leave. Or maybe he’ll find out and kill us both.
GRACE: No, he doesn’t smell like the violent type.
BEA: You only met him on the way out, how did you even- wait, that’s a thing?
GRACE: You start to notice it after a while.
BEA: Gross. … What does violence smell like?
GRACE: Metal. Like a freshly cut pipe.
BEA: Huh. I’ll keep that in mind.
GRACE: While you do that, I’m going to call the new guy, see when he’s able to start. Hope you’re ready to boss someone around.
BEA: God, I was born ready. [SFX: starts biting her nails]
GRACE: That’s a bad habit.
BEA: What can I say, always been a nail biter. It’s a nerves thing.
GRACE_NARRATION: She’s chewing at the skin around her fingers. There are raw spots all around her nails, freshly bloodied.
GRACE: Bea!
BEA: What?!
GRACE: You’re bleeding.
BEA: I… huh.
GRACE_NARRATION: She gently licks at the blood on her fingertips as if she’s forgotten I’m here. Starvation has a way of condensing a vampire’s world into two things: blood and its absence. For a moment, a mere taste is enough to bring peace to her eyes, soft and beautiful. I can feel myself wanting, a more dangerous prospect than I’d like to admit. I want her to always look like this. I want to fulfil her every desire, I want to drain the world of its blood until she is bathing in the stuff — hunger just a faded memory. I want to curl my tongue around the digit and lap the blood from her pale skin. And then… the moment passes, and her brow furrows as she realises what she’s been doing. Frustration. Anger.
BEA: Fingers… fingers. Uh, I’ve been thinking about Argus and that whole finger thing.
GRACE: And?
BEA: I mean, there has to be a way around this. If a finger works then… can we find another?
GRACE: Argus isn’t going to want another.
BEA: No, but if we needed to, if he needed to, I’m sure there’s a way around getting that one back.
GRACE: Possibly. What did you think of Argus?
BEA: He made every hair on my neck stand on end. It’s… jarring to realise that the thing that you thought was only a nightmare as a kid is real.
GRACE: I recommend familiarising yourself with that experience.
BEA: Yeah. How… how am I supposed to handle it?
GRACE: You take it one day at a time. It’s a job. They are clients. It can be that simple.
[SFX: Bea and Rhys are in the office]
RHYS: Alright, paperwork is done. I know where the coffeemaker is. First day is going well so far, I think. So what’s the deal? What can I do? You got a murder I can dig into? Philandering lover?
BEA: There’s a couple of case files on the desk over there if you want to give one a read-through, see what it’s like. Obviously all confidential information, please do not take photos or tell your girlfriend or whatever.
RHYS: Who said I have a girlfriend?
BEA: Sorry, your partner.
RHYS: Just messing with you. I’m single. Ooh, I’m sure this is above my paygrade, but a stabbing? We handle that kind of stuff?
BEA: That’s… not something I want you dealing with just yet. We’re only just looking into it. Clues are… sparse right now.
RHYS: Right. Alright, uh… This one looks interesting. Guy missing a piece of a record player? That’s it? Can he not just… buy a new one?
BEA: Oh, uh… that’s a special case. It’s… irreplaceable.
RHYS: Yeah, looks like. I guess he’s a friend of Grace’s?
BEA: What makes you say that?
RHYS: It’s an odd thing to be calling in for help to find. That’s something you go to a buddy for. [SFX: flipping through pages] You know, this would be faster if I could read your handwriting.
BEA: You know you’re still on probation.
RHYS: Ahh, I’m just kidding. You have a lovely hand. Very loopy.
BEA: Thank you.
RHYS: So… you think someone has it stored in St. Lawrence Market?
BEA: When we visited the scene of the theft there were oil marks. Smears and trails. There’s a few places that could point to but it’s leading back to the olive oil stand in the basement of the market.
RHYS: Why there?
BEA: I guess it’s a good place to hide.
RHYS: Sure.
BEA: I’m heading over there shortly to talk to the possible thief.
RHYS: Shouldn’t you be passing this off to law enforcement or something? Isn’t this just a theft case?
GRACE: Part of what we offer is discretion. Not everyone wants to make these situations a big “thing,” they just want their stuff back.
RHYS: That makes sense. I can be discreet.
BEA: So yeah, read through that and I’ll be back in a bit.
RHYS: Can I come with?
BEA: Uh…
RHYS: I’d like to see how these things work! Get hands on. Hop in the Mystery Machine. Explore the depths of the city.
BEA: I… Grace?
GRACE: You can go if you want, but follow Bea’s instructions. Stay back, let Bea handle any confrontation. Just watch.
RHYS: Can do, boss!
BEA: Uh, alright, then… let’s go to my car. I want to head over now before the place is fully locked up.
RHYS: Can I make one quick joke about our oily thief?
BEA: If you must.
RHYS: Slippery little bugger, ain’t he?
BEA: See? Told you he was a good hire. Can you give me a second? [SFX: Rhys walks out, Bea hangs back] Grace, what the hell, you said we should keep him away from this stuff.
GRACE: I trust my instincts. Right now, it’s telling me to give him a chance.
BEA: An absolutely batshit idea.
GRACE: You seem tense.
BEA: I’m great, I’m super great, I’m so great.
GRACE: Have you eaten?
BEA: No! Of course I fucking haven’t.
GRACE: You have to. Soon.
BEA: Or else WHAT? You’re going to force blood down my throat?
GRACE: Are you going to make me?
BEA: Just- let me deal with things in time. I’ll text you when we’re heading back.
GRACE: You’re always welcome at my place. I hope you know that.
BEA: I do. I’ll see you later. I need to run an errand before we head over to the market anyway. [SFX: she walks out and slams the door a little too hard, the window above the door cracks but doesn’t shatter]
GRACE_NARRATION: She slams the door too hard and the transom cracks. Rage, hunger, rage, and hunger. She thirsts but will not drink. I fear that I have made another mistake.
[SFX: Transition to them pulling up and parking the car in a quiet residential neighbourhood, outside the house Argus works in]
RHYS: I thought we were going to the market.
BEA: Not yet, I need to check one thing.
RHYS: Is this your house?
BEA: No, the client lives here, though. Just wait in the car. [sniffs] Did you eat steak before coming here?
RHYS: Uh, yeah? Did I spill something on myself?
BEA: No, it’s just… never mind.
RHYS: If you’re hungry, we can go grab something.
BEA: Nope, nope, I’m good. Just tired. Bit of a headache.
RHYS: Intermittent fasting, huh? I did that back in my 20s. Terrible time.
BEA: Great. [SFX: she gets out of the car and starts walking away]
RHYS: [out the window] Aren’t you going to go in through the front door?
BEA: I’m going around back! [to herself] God, this feels like a bad idea. Alright, no one is home again. Is this an airbnb or something? [SFX: taps on window, there’s a scratching sound, nails on wood and glass. Then the window opens a crack]
ARGUS: YOU COME ALONE? INTERESTING.
BEA: Sorry Argus, I have a question to ask you. And a favour, if you’d be amenable.
ARGUS: HMM, YES, YES, NO ONE HAS ASKED ME FOR A FAVOUR IN A LONG TIME, HAHAHAHAH-
[SFX: we transition to the car, where they park outside of St. Lawrence. It’s late in the evening, just before closing]
BEA: Wait outside.
RHYS: Come on, you can’t bring me here and make me stay in the car the entire time. Shouldn’t I be learning? Being on hand in case anything goes wrong at the very least?
BEA: No, I think this is someone I should speak to on my own. Keep an eye out, see if anyone around here is doing anything… suspicious. Check through the files for anything we might have missed. It’ll be fine. If I start screaming, call Grace. I’ll be back shortly, ok?
RHYS: Alright.
[SFX: Bea walks through the door and it closes heavily behind her. She walks down the hallway, and the sound of the market slowly disappears until all you can hear are her footsteps in an empty hallway. Suddenly, there’s a noise like wet leather being dragged quickly across the ground and a raspy breath, and she stops, hesitates]
BEA: Hello?
BOOGEY: YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE.
BEA: I’m here on business.
BOOGEY: NO BUSINESS DOWN HERE.
BEA: I’m… I’m from the Woodbine Agency. I want to chat about an item that I’ve been sent here for, a… a piece of a record player.
BOOGEY: NOT MY PROBLEM.
BEA: But you know what I’m talking about.
BOOGEY: WHO TELLS YOU THAT?
BEA: No one, but you left a mark. There are oils that seep in everywhere.
BOOGEY: CURSES.
BEA: Yeah, you should wash your hands more.
BOOGEY: I AM AWARE OF THE ISSUE. IT IS PERSISTENT. THIS ONCE WAS A STORE. NOW OILS, OILS. SLICK AND CLOYING.
BEA: How did you even get over there? It’s across town.
BOOGEY: THERE ARE MANY PATHS THROUGH THE WORLD. SOME ARE UNSEEN BY EYES LIKE YOURS. THEY ARE QUIET. ALL I WANT IS QUIET.
BEA: Yeah, but you can’t take… Argus’s stuff.
BOOGEY: I AM AWARE OF MY… TRANSGRESSION. BUT I COULD NOT LIVE LIKE THIS. SO I TOOK, FOR I HAD NO ONE TO OFFER ME A PIECE OF THEMSELVES. SO I COULD LISTEN TO THE MUSIC. A PIECE… FOR PEACE! HAHAHAHAHAHA. DID ARGUS TELL YOU THAT?
BEA: Tell me what?
BOOGEY: THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT, IT REQUIRES A PIECE OF ANOTHER TO BE MADE. YOU CANNOT MAKE IT YOURSELF. SOMEONE ELSE MUST GIVE IT TO YOU. IT IS A GIFT. BUT I STOLE, AND I WILL ADMIT… IT IS NOT THE SAME. ONLY A SHADOW VERSION. BUT WHAT DO I DO NOW? I DO NOT KNOW THAT ANSWER.
BEA: What if I offered you a replacement?
BOOGEY: [laughing] YOU OFFER ME WHAT?
BEA: A replacement. You give back what was Argus’s, and I give you something new.
BOOGEY: THIS IS NOT AN EASILY REPLACED PIECE.
BEA: I know. But I… asked for a favour. And it was granted. Argus offers a piece of himself in return for what was taken. A finger.
BOOGEY: AH, A HELPING HAND, HA HA HA. IT… WILL DO.
BEA: … Can I have Babau’s finger back?
BOOGEY: YOU MAY. [SFX: a finger lands on the ground and Bea pockets it, shuddering a little]
BEA: Thank you. I should’ve brought something to wrap it in but I don’t think I’m that smart… but yes, thank you… sorry, I didn’t get your name.
BOOGEY: MARIAH.
BEA: Mariah.
BOOGEY: THANK YOU. FEW ASK IT.
BEA: Well, now I know. And thank you, Mariah. How do you two know each other, if you don’t mind me asking?
BOOGEY: WE WERE FRIENDS ONCE, LONG AGO.
BEA: Did you have a falling out?
BOOGEY: HE CRASHED MY CAR.
BEA: I didn’t know you drove.
BOOGEY: IT IS A JOKE. I NEVER GOT MY LICENCE. BUT THINGS CHANGE. I AM SORRY FOR THAT. NOW I MUST PREPARE FOR WORK. MUCH TO DO. MUCH TO DO. TELL ARGUS I SEND MY REGARDS.
BEA: I will, and… have a good night.
BOOGEY: BE SAFE. AND DO NOT HARM THOSE STILL HERE ON YOUR WAY OUT.
BEA: I wouldn’t.
BOOGEY: YOU REEK OF HUNGER. I WOULD KNOW.
BEA: I’m fine.
BOOGEY: LEAVE. DEAL WITH YOUR ISSUES. BE SAFE. DO NOT CHECK UNDER THE BED. TELL ARGUS I WILL THINK OF HIM AS THE PIECE HE OFFERED ME MAKES THE MUSIC PLAY.
BEA: Yeah, I will. Uh… I’ll see you around?
BOOGEY: NOT LIKELY.
BEA: Yeah, probably for the best. [SFX: she starts walking, stumbles, and then jogs out of there up to the street]
RHYS: [SFX: jogging over] Hey, did you talk to them?
BEA: I said stay in the car!
RHYS: I stayed near the car, that counts.
BEA: Oh my god. Ok, I’m… I got what I needed. I’ll need to stop by our client’s place on the way back but we’re all good here.
RHYS: You look sweaty. Is it hot in there?
BEA: No, no! I’m good.
RHYS: It’s pretty warm out here actually, mind if I ditch the sweater? [SFX: he takes his sweater off]
BEA: Oh boy.
RHYS: You ok? You look tired.
BEA: Rhys, can you come here for just a moment?
RHYS: Yeah, what’s up?
BEA: I just need a little help right now, that’s all…
RHYS: Are you… sure you’re ok? Sorry, is there something on my neck?
BEA: I’m just a little hungry, I just need some help…
[SFX: Bea giggles and the background noise cuts out. There’s a transition to Bea hurriedly walking up to Grace’s door and pounding on it]
BEA: GRACE! GRACE! [SFX: the door opens]
GRACE: Bea? What’s going on? [SFX: she brings her inside and closes and locks the door]
BEA: I want to, I don’t want to… I wanted to chew on him. Rhys, god, he looked so good. I kept thinking about how nice it would be to tear him open.
GRACE: And did you?
BEA: No! No I didn’t! And I feel like I’m DYING, I want to DIE RIGHT NOW-
GRACE: It’s ok, I have some blood in the fridge for you.
BEA: I don’t want it, I don’t want it, but I want it, I want it, fuck, this SUCKS-
GRACE: It’s ok, Bea.
BEA: I wanted to bite him, Grace. I wanted to taste him so bad.
GRACE: But you didn’t, and that’s the important part.
BEA: It was so scary. But I just… pushed him and I left. I threw the office keys at him and ran out. He must think I’m INSANE.
GRACE: Does he know the alarm code?
BEA: No! He knows nothing! Other than I’m a maniac and I was salivating over him like he was a big slab of meat. I think… I think I’m ready, I think I’m ready… What’s in your fridge?
GRACE: O negative.
BEA: Great.
GRACE: Come on, let’s-
BEA: No.
GRACE: What?
BEA: I… I want to do this alone. I don’t want an audience.
GRACE: Fine.
BEA: Don’t take it personally.
GRACE: I’m not.
BEA: Ok. Ok. [SFX: she gets up and walks out of the room into the kitchen] Is it weird if I put Tajin in it?
GRACE: Do whatever feels right.
BEA: Ok!
GRACE_NARRATION: If Bea had torn Rhys apart, she would not have left this house with her head attached to her body. I could not have let her.
BEA: Ugh, this is so fucking good, Grace.
GRACE_NARRATION: My name sounds so sweet on her lips.
[end]
Credits
Featuring the voices of:
Emily Kellogg as Grace
Alex Nursall as Bea
Ian Boddy as Rhys
and Alex Guthrie as Mariah, the Boogey
Woodbine is an original podcast created, written, and produced by Alex Nursall and Emily Kellogg
Showrunning and direction by Alex Nursall
Production and promotion by Emily Kellogg
Engineering and sound design by Ian Boddy
Theme by Phil Wright
Music by Phil Wright and Ian Boddy
Recorded at Pirate Sound
Artwork by Andy Kelly
Distributed by Realm