The Infernal Circle of Eternal Return Part 3

A breakthrough in the case brings Brady Hitchcock one step closer to rescuing Abby Robbins and uncovering the identity of the elusive serial killer known as the Monster. But as he races to save the girl, time begins to run short, and his tenuous grip on reality finally slips away. Brady’s relentless pursuit leads him to the very heart of evil in a horrifying final confrontation, as the epic conclusion to one of the most terrifying podcasts of all time comes to an end. 

Transcript

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RALPHUS

There’s an old, decrepit theatre down

the end of a dark, deserted alley. On

the thirteenth night of every month

Baron Sordor throws open his theatre

doors to the lucky few invited to see

the show. The crowd are slowly

ushered inside to take their seats,

whispering in nervous expectation.

Then the music starts to rise and the

red velvet curtains are drawn aside.

A dark figure strides to the edge of

the stage and the audience gasps in

nervous anticipation, because when

the clock strikes midnight, it’s time

for Baron Sordor’s Theatre of the

Doomed.

BARON SORDOR

Thank you dear Ralphus and good

evening honoured guests, I am your

host Baron Vladimir Sordor, welcome

to another night at the Theatre of

the Doomed.

BARON SORDOR (cont'd)

Tonight we bring you the conclusion

of one of the most brain bending and

tantalizing tales of all time, The

Infernal Circle of Eternal Return.

But be warned there are those who

listen to this tale and never return.

Brace yourself dear audience as the

terrifying tendrils of terror twist

and twirl around your heart. This is

the conclusion of our spine-chilling

story guaranteed to shred your very

soul... I give to you, THE INFERNAL

CIRCLE OF ETERNAL RETURN.
 
 

SFX

(the sound of a tape

rewinding)

NARRATOR

9.35 am Port Perte Metro Police

Station. Brady tells Detective Lucas

that he's going to be busy this

morning and to follow up the

interviews by himself. Then he makes

his way into Captain Dodd's office

for their meeting. When it's finished

Brady heads back to the records room.

It's what he's been waiting for all

morning. Ever since he dragged that

poor kids body onto the boat last

night he can't stop thinking the same

thing. There's more victims of the

Monster out there. More kids, lost or

long forgotten, crying out to be

found from a watery grave. He picks

up the phone and starts calling other

jurisdictions, asking if they have

any cases involving victims with

similar mutilations or anonymous

calls to the station matching the

Monster's MO. He is met with a wall

of silence. Most of the detectives he

speaks to are too busy or indifferent

to take the time to share any of

their cases. The ones that did want

to help have nothing fitting the

Monster's profile. After three hours

Brady is ready to give up... until he

calls Shawcross PD. A sergeant there

tells him a teenage runaway named

Rachel Dunston was found two years

ago, dismembered and stowed in a

black garbage bag in a water tower

with her index finger missing.

Gooseflesh creeps up Brady's spine as

the Sergeant describes the murder. It

has to be the Monster. Brady asks to

speak to the investigating officers

on the case. He is told that only one

works at Shawcross PD now, Detective

Gus Croft but he has taken a personal

day to attend his sister's funeral

and won't be at the station till 9pm

this evening. Brady checks his watch.

It’s half past twelve. Shawcross is 9

hours drive from Port Perte.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

This is the break Brady's looking

for. He leaves a message for Gus

telling him he is driving up to meet

with him tonight, then he leaves the

precinct informing the duty sergeant

that if anyone needs him he is on the

road for the day.

NARRATOR

9.17 pm Shawcross Police Station.

Brady arrives at the station and is

escorted to Detective Croft's desk.

Gus Croft is in his early sixties. He

has slicked back thinning hair and a

droopy moustache that is flecked with

the remnants of his dinner. His nose

and cheeks are ruddy and swollen and

bumpy. He offers a broad smile and a

handshake as Brady sits down at his

desk.

GUS CROFT

How's the drive?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Long. Thanks for seeing me.

GUS CROFT

You must be beat. My partner's

getting herself some coffee, you

wanna cup?

NARRATOR

Brady could smell the waft of whiskey

coming from Gus Croft's cup and

readily agreed.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Yeah sure, that'd be great.

NARRATOR

Gus Croft waves in the direction of

the kitchenette on the far side of

the bullpen and gets the attention of

a detective making coffee.

GUS CROFT

(speaking across the

room)

Kate? You mind grabbing our guest

here from Port Perte a cup while

you're up?

NARRATOR

Detective Kate Hazelwood smiles and

nods yes. She is exceptionally tall,

well over six feet, with white blonde

hair and blue eyes.

GUS CROFT

Well here's the Rachel Dunston file.

You know you didn't have to drive all

this way, I could have a copy mailed

to you and saved you the time.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

I appreciate that Gus. But I need it

today. You mind giving me the broad

strokes?

NARRATOR

Brady opened the file and started

paging through. The photos of the

victim were eerily similar.

GUS CROFT

Rachel Dunston was reported missing

by her mother two years ago. She was

a troubled girl, sixteen years old,

came from a bad home. Both the mother

and step-father were alcoholics and

in and out of jail. She had a pretty

long record herself, two stints in

juvie, one for drugs, one for grand

theft auto. The initial investigation

listed her as a missing person but

the feeling round the station was

she'd picked up an run off. It wasn't

until the manager of the building she

used to live in got complaints about

a strange taste in the water that her

body was found.

NARRATOR

Detective Hazelwood comes back with

the coffee's and introduces herself.

Gus fishes a bottle of cheap whiskey

from the bottom draw in his desk and

offers to make their coffee's Irish.

Brady readily accepts while Detective

Hazlewood politely declines.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Go on, you were saying.

GUS CROFT

Well, the apartment building Rachel

Dunston lived in had an old water

tower on the roof. A few of the

residents had started complaining to

the super that their water tasted

funny and had a bad smell.

GUS CROFT (cont'd)

As you can see by the pictures she

was found stowed away at the bottom

of the tank.

NARRATOR

Brady pages through the pictures.

They were horrifying. The atrocities

committed on her poor little body

were beyond imagination.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

I see her right index finger is

missing. Did you recover the digit or

receive any anonymous calls about the

abduction.

GUS CROFT

Nah. If the finger was left somewhere

we didn't find it. Then again, no one

was looking for it either. She was

missing for about three months before

she was found. Could be a pet or

vermin ran off with it, I dunno.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

And the calls?

KATE HAZELWOOD

There are no records of any calls to

the station or the family. Gus's

former partner was the lead on this

and he was pretty meticulous.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

So all of this was before your time?

KATE HAZELWOOD

Yeah. I transferred in eighteen

months ago from over in Hindley.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

You don't say. My partner's from

Hindley too. Maybe you know him,

Detective Lee Lucas?

KATE HAZELWOOD

Can't say that I do.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

You sure? Tall guy, mid-thirties,

tremendous pain in the ass? He

transferred to Port Perte about the

same time you came to Shawcross.

KATE HAZELWOOD

I worked in Hindley for ten years. I

never met anyone by that name.

NARRATOR

A strange feeling came over Brady. It

felt like he was watching a movie of

himself. He could feel the threads of

his sanity slipping through his

grasp.

GUS CROFT

My partner took this case pretty

personally. Rachel Dunston was one of

the kids at the 'at risk Program' he

ran for troubled teens...

NARRATOR

Brady felt numb. A high pitched noise

sounded in his ears. Joseph King was

a part of an 'at risk program' for

troubled teens. The Monsters first

two victims had records with the

police... someone he knew back in

Port Perte ran the same program for

at risk teens...

GUS CROFT

Anyway, we ended up arresting the

step-father for it. He always denied

it, but he had no alibi and a history

of domestic violence so it wasn't

hard to get a conviction. He got life

but only served two years. Hung

himself in his cell. Hope that helps

you.

NARRATOR

Brady could feel himself shaking. It

felt like he was in a vacuum.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(carefully)

What was your old partners name

again?

GUS CROFT

Mark Mason.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Have you got a photo of Mark at all?

GUS CROFT

Sure, I've got one around here

somewhere.

NARRATOR

Brady watched Gus fumble around in

his desk till he retrieved a small

wooden framed black and white

photo...

SFX

(dramatic music)

NARRATOR

It was of Gus Croft and Lee Lucas.

SFX

(dramatic music)

NARRATOR

The floor suddenly fell out from

beneath Brady’s feet. Lee Lucas is

Mark Mason. Lee Lucas is the Monster.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Excuse me a sec. I gotta go to the

bathroom.

NARRATOR

Brady races across the bullpen and

into the bathroom, kicking open the

first stall door and vomiting into

the toilet bowl. He throws up again,

his body in spasms as sick pours out

of his nose and his mouth as if he

was purging all of the horrors of the

case from his body. After what seems

like an eternity the nausea subsides

and he starts to cough and dry heave.

Spent, Brady falls to the floor

crying so hard his whole body

convulsed. How could he be so stupid?

The fucking Monster was right there

in front of his face the whole time

and he was too blind to see him.

NARRATOR

1.32 am Brady Hitchcock's car. Brady

grips the wheel tightly as his car

speeds south down the highway towards

Port Perte. It is raining hard, and

Brady struggles to keep the car in

its lane. He is so tired. Not just

sleepy, but exhausted. Exhausted by

this case, his fucking job, the

charges he is facing and the soul

crushing realization that his wife

and daughter will probably never

speak to him again. But most of all

he's exhausted by life. He didn’t

want it anymore. His life is a curse

and nothing more. Brady blinks away

the tears from his eyes. The highway

before him is a mess of bright

strobing lights, their elongated

trails streaking across his field of

vision.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Back at Shawcross P.D. bathroom it

had taken him almost twenty minutes

to pull himself together. When he had

finally stopped crying and gotten

control of himself, he washed his

face and popped two quaaludes to calm

his nerves. They had fucked him up

more than he was expecting. Brady

spent the next couple of hours trying

to find out as much as he could about

Detective Mark Mason. After a couple

more drinks Gus Croft had let him

into the records room and Brady was

able to access Mark's personnel file.

He was a decorated officer, a

favourite of the brass, who ran an at

risk youth program and had an almost

perfect arrest record. Apparently,

Mark Mason had retired early to care

for his elderly mother. That had come

as a surprise to the department who

had earmarked him for promotion.

There were no records of where he

moved to after he left the force.

When Brady dug a little deeper, he

found some sealed records from Mark's

childhood.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

He was orphaned at a young age, his

parents killed in an horrific murder

suicide, his mother shooting his

father then herself over an alleged

affair. Mark had witnessed the

killings and was found sitting with

the bodies, completely catatonic.

After a year in hospital he was made

a ward of the state and housed at the

infamous Christian orphanage,

Governors House. The school was

eventually closed down years later

after multiple allegations of

physical and sexual abuse by the

priests. He was adopted when he was

ten years old, although the name of

the family wasn't mentioned in the

records. In his file there was an old

and fade black and white picture of

Mark as a boy standing with his class

in front of the Governors House

entrance. Carved above the school

house doors were Three Monkeys. One

covering its eyes. One covering its

ears and one covering its mouth. See

no evil. Hear no evil. Speak no evil.

SFX

(foreboding music)

NARRATOR

Just like the Monster said on the

phone.

NARRATOR

In every case the Monster’s victims

had their eyes, ears and tongue

removed and then their eyelids, ear

canals and mouths sewn shut. It was

almost midnight by the time he left.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady speeds down the highway. Hours

pass. Everything is a blur, and the

road stretches off in front of him,

the sound of his own screaming

drowning out the hum of the highway.

Nothing seems real anymore. It's as

if he is sitting behind himself,

watching like a passenger as he

drives the car.

SFX

(foreboding music)

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Ever obsessed about a moment in time

and wished you could do it over again

and make it different?

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady gripped the steering wheel

tightly and shook his head as if to

clear it.

SFX

(sound of alarm

ringing)

NARRATOR

Brady Hitchcock woke as if still in a

dream. He opens his bloodshot eyes

and sits bolt upright in bed.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

The events of last night come

flooding back and he turns off his

alarm, gets out of bed and wakes the

sleeping woman in the bed beside him.

SFX

(alarm sound stops)

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Shelia? Shelia, you have to wake up.

NARRATOR

She rolls over and looks at him,

smiling at him with warm, dusty eyes.

SHELIA CRAWFORD

(sleepily)

Mmmm... good morning.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Hi. I'm sorry to do this but I have

to go. Something's come up, I have to

go into work.

NARRATOR

Sheila stretches seductively across

the bed, letting the sheets slip down

across her naked body.

SHELIA CRAWFORD

(seductively)

It's so early. Why don't you come

back to bed?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

I wish I could, I really do. But

we've just had a major break in the

murder case I'm investigating and I

have to go.

NARRATOR

Shelia Crawford smiles and gets out

of bed, grabbing her clothes and

dressing.

SHELIA CRAWFORD

(disappointed)

It's okay, I understand. I'm working

at the bar tonight but I don't start

till nine, I thought we could get

some dinner if you're not busy.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Dinner sounds great. But I don't know

how long I'm going to be tied up

today. Can we take a rain check,

maybe sometime next week?

NARRATOR

Shelia finishes getting dressed and

writes her phone number on a piece of

paper.

SHELIA CRAWFORD

You better call me.

NARRATOR

She kisses Brady on the lips and

presses the paper into his hands

before turning and walking out of the

bedroom.

SFX

(phone ringing)

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Hello?

Brady, is that you?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Yeah Captain.

CAPTAIN FRANK DODD

(phone voice)

Jesus, you sound like shit.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

I'm alright.

CAPTAIN FRANK DODD

(phone voice)

We gotta call, this is serious.

Another girl went missing last night,

looks like our killer's back again.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

The Monster? I'll be ready in

fifteen.

CAPTAIN FRANK DODD

(phone voice)

Lee Lucas is on his way to pick you

up.

NARRATOR

The phone clicks dead in his hand.

Just the sound of Lee Lucas's name

sent chills up Brady's spine. He has

to be careful. He has to play this

right. There was no point arresting

Lee Lucas till he finds out where

he's hiding the girl. That means that

he needs to make sure Lee Lucas

doesn't suspect that he knows a

thing.

NARRATOR

7.32 am, Detective Lee Lucas’s Sedan.

Brady Hitchcock lights a cigarette

and glances over at Lee Lucas from

the corner of his eye. The tension is

so thick, you could cut it with a

knife. The car fills with acrid blue

smoke and Lee Lucas coughs

uncomfortably.

LEE LUCAS

You mind opening your window Sarge?

NARRATOR

Brady rolls down the window a crack.

He has to figure out a way of getting

Lee Lucas to tell him where the girl

is hidden.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Where'd you say you grew up again?

LEE LUCAS

What's that Sarge?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

I was asking where you grew up,

Hindley right?

LEE LUCAS

Yeah. Born and raised.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

You were on the force there weren't

you? Before you came here I mean.

LEE LUCAS

Six years as a patrol man. Then two

in narcotics before I transferred to

homicide.

NARRATOR

He was lying. That was how long he

served up in Shawcross, Brady read it

last night.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

You still got family there?

LEE LUCAS

They died years ago.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

So why'd you move here?

LEE LUCAS

Hindley is a sleepy little town.

Nothing much ever happened there. I

wanted a chance to work in a place

where I could do some good?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

So where are you living in now?

NARRATOR

Lee Lucas looks at him strangely.

LEE LUCAS

(cautiously)

I've got an apartment over in a new

development on Port Perte. Why all

the questions Sarge?

NARRATOR

Lee Lucas looks at him strangely and

Brady realizes he needs to back off

before he raises Lee Lucas's

suspicions.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(laughs)

No reason. Just making conversation.

LEE LUCAS

(cautiously)

Oh. Alright.

NARRATOR

Brady Hitchcock finishes his

cigarette and pitches it out the

window. Every fibre of his being

wants to grab Lee Lucas and beat him

till he gives up where he's hiding

the girl. But he can't risk it. If he

doesn't break and give up Abby's

location then Brady would have to

wait until tomorrow to try again.

There had to be some other way of

figuring this out.

NARRATOR

7.46 am, the EZ Mart. Brady Hitchcock

makes his way through the throng of

onlookers and calls over Officer

Dailey to talk.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Officer Dailey, can you bring me up

to speed.

NARRATOR

Brady goes through the same routine

with Officer Dailey as he does every

morning, as if on autopilot, all the

while watching Lee Lucas. When

Officer Dailey is finished Brady

walks over to where Steve Gilmore and

Dr Amanda Pyke are examining the

finger. Then the girls parents

arrive, her mother screaming

hysterically and Officer Dailey

interrupts telling Brady he needs to

head back to the station for the

meeting with Captain Dodd and the

State Police.

LEE LUCAS

I'll go take care of the parent’s

boss. You go see the Captain and I'll

meet you at the station later.

NARRATOR

Brady looks over at the smiling

detective. He couldn’t let Lee Lucas

out of his sight, not for a fucking

second, or he may never find Abby

Robbins alive.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

You know what, the Captain can wait.

Detective Lucas, you finish up here

with Dr Pyke. I’ll go bag the shoe

and speak with the parents, then

we'll drive to the station together

when I'm done.

NARRATOR

Detective Lucas shrugs and squats

down next to Dr Pyke, talking to her

about the finger.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady grabs an evidence bag from

Officer Dailey and crosses the

carpark quickly, bending down to pick

up the girl's shoe before the parents

notice it.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

He stops dead. There's something near

the shoe. Something he's never seen

before. A tiny, decorative white

pebble lying on the bitumen right

next to the shoe. It was the same

type of pebble that he found in

Joseph King's pocket when he fished

him out of Red Cliff Creek...

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(whisper)

Oh shit.

NARRATOR

Brady looked back at Detective Moore

squatting next to Dr Pyke. Caught in

the tread of his sneakers were small,

white pebbles... the same kind of

pebbles that adorned the driveway at

108 Meadow Drive where that little

old lady lived.... the house just

down the road from where Abby

Robbins.

SFX

(dramatic music)

NARRATOR

It all made sense now. Doreen Hansen,

the woman with dementia they had

interviewed, she had called Lee

Lucas, Mark. She thought he was her

son... because he was her son. She

must have adopted him when he was a

boy. Lee Lucas must be hiding the

children he abducts at her house. And

the poor woman is so confused she

doesn't even know that there's

murderer in her house. Half the time

she probably wouldn’t even recognise

who he was when he was there. That's

why she thinks there are kids messing

around in her basement.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

But it’s been the Monster the whole

time, torturing and dismembering

these screaming children while she

watches the fucking Price is Right.

SFX

(dramatic music)

NARRATOR

But why hasn't he seen this before?

Then it hits him. Every morning at

the crime scene, Brady always sends

Lee Lucas to console the parents so

he doesn't have to deal with them.

The fucking prick must have noticed

the rock and hidden it when he was

bagging the shoe. The answer was

there, right in front of Brady the

entire time, just waiting to be

found. But he'd had been too blind to

see it.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

He bags the shoe and the pebble and

hands them to a uniform, then crosses

the carpark and speaks with the

girl’s parents.

SFX

(girls mother

crying)

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Mr and Mrs Robbins, I'm Sergeant

Brady Hitchcock. I want to assure you

that I'm going to find your daughter

alive.

NARRATOR

As Brady spoke, he glances back over

his shoulder at Lee Lucas. But he

isn’t talking to Dr Pyke or the

uniforms anymore. He's standing by

himself, watching Brady.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

A chill runs down Brady's spine.

Their eyes meet for the first time

and the Monster stares back at Brady

with cold, dead eyes.

NARRATOR

10.32 am Port Perte Metro Police

Station. The drive back to the

station is tense. Neither Brady nor

Lee Moore speak a word to each other.

Brady was always tense when he was

around Lee Lucas, the guy made his

skin crawl, but this was different.

He could feel that Lucas suspected

something. Had he seen him pick up

the pebble? Was it all the questions

he'd asked in the car? Something had

tipped him, but Brady didn’t know

what.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

When they arrive at the station Brady

attends the State Police briefing

then follows Captain Dodd into his

office for their meeting. But he

never takes his eyes off Lee Lucas,

not even for a second. When Brady is

finishes speaking to Dodd, he walks

out into the bullpen and calls

Detective Lucas over to speak to him.

LEE LUCAS

Look Sarge... some of the guys are

talking about your reassignment and I

just wanted to say how sorry I am.

NARRATOR

Lucas looks at him strangely as he

speaks, his eyes are flat and devoid

of feeling. It's as if inside he had

no emotions at all.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Guess word travels fast. Look, don't

worry about it. It's a long time

coming. Anyway, I've got a few things

to take care of before the meeting

with forensics at noon. You mind

doing these follow up door knock

interviews without me this morning?

NARRATOR

Lee Lucas smiles in relief but it

doesn't touch his eyes.

LEE LUCAS

No problem. I've got a couple of

other things I can look into.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Great. Let me know what you find.

I'll see you back to the station

later.

NARRATOR

Lee Lucas grabs his coat and his car

keys and heads off in the direction

of the carpark. As soon as he's out

of sight Brady signs out the keys for

one of the departments cars and runs

down to the motor pool. As he's

pulling out of the carpark he sees

his partners shitty brown Ford

peeling off down the street. Brady

follows, keeping at least a block

between them. The brown Ford drives

south for about ten blocks towards

Meadow Ave and the Ez Mart crime

scene then out of nowhere turns east

towards the Port. This puts Brady on

edge. What the fuck is he doing

heading towards Port Perte? Is this

his routine to make sure he isn't

followed or has he already seen Brady

following him? Even worse, has he

already killed Abby Robbins and was

driving around to find a place to

dump the body.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady considers calling it in for a

moment then realizes that it would do

no good. He has no evidence linking

Lee Lucas to the Monster. And if they

pull him over before he goes back to

where he's hiding the girl they might

never find her alive.

SFX

(sound of traffic)

NARRATOR

Up ahead, Lucas starts driving

faster, weaving through traffic. Then

he starts making erratic turns,

flying down side streets for a few

blocks before turning back onto the

main road.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady speeds up and tries to stay

with him, all the while doing his

best not to alert Lucas that he's

being tailed. The traffic becomes

heavier. As if on cue, Lucas suddenly

speeds through a yellow light and

turns south again. Brady floors the

accelerator and swerves out of

traffic, mounting the side walk in an

attempt to keep up with him. The

light turns red just as he flies

through the intersection and another

car broadsides him. Brady smashes his

head on  the steering wheel and

everything goes dark.

NARRATOR

11.01 am Intersection on Vine and

Port Street. Brady wakes up groggily

to a crowd of people rubbernecking

around his car. Steams rises from

beneath his bonnet. His head pounds

and his neck is stiff. He feels like

he is in a dream.

BYSTANDER 1

Are you okay mister?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(confused)

What the fuck?

BYSTANDER 1

(concerned)

You were in an accident. Don't move.

An ambulance is on it's way.

NARRATOR

Brady looks around and tries to get

his bearings. His head is bleeding.

BYSTANDER 2

(angry)

You were driving like a maniac. You

could have killed someone.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(dazed)

How long was I out?

BYSTANDER 1

Few minutes.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(in frustration)

Fuck!

NARRATOR

Brady tries to turn over the engine.

It whines and chugs then dies.

SFX

(sound of car that

won't start)

BYSTANDER 2

(angry)

Hey what are you doing? You can't

leave the scene of an accident. The

police are coming.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

I am the police. Move out of the way.

NARRATOR

Brady turns the ignition and the car

sputters to life. He drops the

vehicle into gear and speeds off

south towards Meadow Ave.

NARRATOR

11.25 am 108 Meadow Ave. Brady pulls

up outside Doreen Hansen's house and

gets out of the car, careful to close

the door softly. He looks up and down

the street. It's empty. Lucas's

shitty brown Ford is nowhere to be

seen. Brady draws his revolver and

starts towards the front of the

house. The white ornamental stones

crunch beneath his feet as he walks

slowly up the drive. He licks his

lips anxiously as he crosses the yard

towards the front stairs, mindful to

watch for movement in the windows.

They look dark and silent. A strong

wind gusts across the yard sending

brown leaves tumbling through the

grass and a chill running up his

spine. He mounts the stairs and

carefully walks to the top, one by

one by one, then crosses the porch

and listens at the front door. He can

hear muffled music. Voices maybe?

He's not too sure.

SFX

(soft muffled music)

NARRATOR

Carefully, his tries the door knob

but it's locked. He can't get in that

way. Maybe there's a way in round the

back he thinks to himself. Brady

grips his pistol tight and tries to

keep his focus. His head pounds and

his vision is blurry. Slowly he makes

his way around the side yard and

opens an tall mission brown wooden

gate. It squeaks loudly as it opens

and Brady freezes, listening intently

for any movement. But there's

nothing. Not even the dog. He

swallows hard over the lump of fear

in his throat and creeps slowly

around to the back yard, peering

around the side of the house.

The backyard is engulfed in a riot of

overgrown grass and weeds.

A swing set rusts in the back corner

near an old tumbledown breeze block

barbecue. Brady looks across the yard

again and checks for movement, then

starts slowly towards the back porch.

He can see the old ladies dog asleep,

laying beneath a picnic table on the

crumbling patio. He has to keep it

calm. If it starts barking Lee Lucas

will know he is here. Brady moves

closer to the sleeping dog.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(whispering)

Shh... who’s a good dog?

NARRATOR

The dog doesn't move. He steps closer

and reaches out his hand. Nothing. It

doesn't look up. It looks like it's

asleep. But it's not. The dog is

lying in a pool of blood, its head

cleaved open in a mess of fur and

brains.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(whispering & scared)

Jesus fucking Christ.

NARRATOR

Brady head snaps up and he nervously

looks around. He's alone. There's no

one in the yard. Ahead is a sliding

door that leads into the house.

He didn’t want to go in there. No one

would ever want to go in there. Brady

steeled his nerves and crept towards

the door; he can hear his heart

beating in his ears. His breathing is

shallow and ragged, and his hands are

shaking. His vision swirls before

him. He has to keep calm. He has to

hold it together. Brady tests the

sliding door and it opens. He takes a

deep breath then pulls back the drape

behind the open door and slips

inside.

(louder muffled music)

NARRATOR

Loud rock music and the stench of

death assault him. The kitchen beyond

looks empty. He cautiously steps

inside. Every countertop is filled

with garbage. Flies buzz around the

dirty plates that are stacked high in

the sink and on the kitchen table.

The faucet drips intermittently.

Brady takes another careful step

forward into the kitchen. Suddenly, a

rat jumps out from the filth and

scurries off into the shadows causing

Brady to jump and point his gun in

fright.

SFX

(rat squeak)

NARRATOR

His heart thunders and his hands

shake. The house is still except for

the muffled sound of rock music.

Brady can see soft, flickering light

coming from from the living room

ahead and he slowly crosses the

kitchen and slowly peers inside.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Most of the room is a waist high a

maze of junk and magazines. In the

middle of it all is a couch and a

television. Two figures sit on the

couch staring ahead blankly, the

white static of the dead channel

jumping and shifting like a strobe in

the darkness.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(threatening)

Police. Don't you fucking move.

NARRATOR

Brady points his revolver at the two

figures on the couch. Neither of them

move. They both sit motionless,

watching the snow on the screen. He

circles around slowly, gun trained at

their heads. They're not moving. They

look like dolls. Like life like...

Brady rounds the side of the couch.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

There are two dead bodies. One is

Doreen Hansen, her eyes open wide and

staring at the TV, her throat slashed

deeply from ear to ear. The figure

next to her is the mummified body of

a young girl, her blonde, curly hair

falling down over her shoulders. She

is dressed in a pink Victorian girls

dress, her skin is treated and the

colour of a brown leather bag. Her

eyes, mouth and ear canals are sewn

shut. Brady almost drops his gun and

does his best to stifle a scream.

SFX

(a stifled scream)

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(whispers in panic)

This can't be real... none of this is

real.

NARRATOR

It's like he is in a horror movie.

Like he's watching himself from the

audience at a cinema... he is in a

fucking house of horrors. Brady can

feel his sanity start to slip through

his fingers, all he wants to do is

run away. He needs a drink so badly.

But he has to find Abby before it's

too late. He did his best to pull

himself together.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(whispers)

Where the fuck could she be?

NARRATOR

Brady is quite for a moment,

listening to the house. The muffled

sound of music coming from

downstairs. That's where she is. The

old woman said she heard people in

her basement.

SFX

(loud music)

NARRATOR

Brady opens the door to the basement.

The music is deafening.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

There is no bulb in the fixture

overhead and the only light comes

from lounge room behind. It's almost

impossible to see. Brady grips

rickety railing tight and starts

down.

SFX

(steps groaning)

NARRATOR

The wooden steps groan underfoot

after every step and Brady keeps his

gun aimed towards the bottom, finger

poised over the trigger. It's cold

down here, damp. There's a feeling in

the air, impossible to describe,

almost as if the air itself is

stained by the fear and agony and

brutality that inhabited this place.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady reaches the bottom of the

stairs and slowly moves out into the

basement. Shadows criss-cross the

room. The ceiling above is in low,

almost claustrophobic, and it feels

as if the walls are pressing in on

every side. Within the basement's

shadows Brady can see dilapidated

furniture and rows of floor to

ceiling shelves crowded with jars and

toys and tools and junk. He moves

further into the basement, past the

rows of shelves. The light gets

brighter. His eyes are wide and panic

grips his heart... and then he sees

her.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

The basement opens out to a wide

room. Abby Robbins is cuffed by her

feet and hands to a ring on the

floor. Her mouth is gagged and

wrapped in duct tape. She is moaning

and struggling like a trapped animal.

Behind her is a small table with a

8mm projector. It is playing a film

on the wall in front of her. It is a

film of Joseph King being tortured.

Brady's heart starts pounding and he

runs to the girls side.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(whispers)

It's okay. I'm a police officer. I'm

here to help you.

ABBY ROBBINS

(moaning scared)

NARRATOR

Abby screams through her gag and

cowers like a frightened animal. Her

hands are covered in blood from where

her finger was bitten off, her wrists

and her ankles raw meat from trying

to get free. She looks at him and

he's sees the absolute terror in her

eyes.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

(softly)

It's alright. Please, let me help

you.

NARRATOR

He reaches out to try and touch her

gag and she flinches.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

It's alright. I'm not going to hurt

you. I'm gonna get you out of here I

promise.

NARRATOR

Brady tries again. This time she lets

him. But she keeps on screaming

behind the tape, her eyes wide and

terrified. Brady rips the tape down

and starts to pull out the rags she

has shoved into her mouth.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

It's okay. You're okay. I just need

to know where he is? Where's the man

who kidnapped you.

NARRATOR

Brady pulls the last of the rags from

the girls mouth and she gasps

desperately for air.

ABBY ROBBINS

(sobbing in terror)

He's right behind you.

NARRATOR

Her words send gooseflesh prickling

up his spine. He turns and suddenly

he cannot breath. From the shadows

the Monster steps into the light,

naked and insane, a knife in one

hand, a cleaver in the other.

THE MONSTER

(deranged and

terrifying voice)

Do you want to know what pain is?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Please Lee, let me help you. You

don’t wanna do this... you don’t

wanna hurt this girl, do you?

THE MONSTER

(screaming terrifying

voice)

YOU'LL ALL KNOW WHAT PAIN IS!!!

SFX

(all sound becomes slow motion

sounds)

NARRATOR

Time seems to have no meaning. Brady

feels as though he is watching

himself in the basement, like it's a

movie, like none of it is real. He

freezes. Fear courses through his

body. The Monster charges across the

basement. Everything is in slow

motion. The music. Abby's screams.

His own hands trying to raise his

gun. Brady can see who Lee Lucas is

for the first time, who Mark Mason

is. They're both disguises. The

Monster was hiding behind them the

entire time.

SFX

(3 gun shots)

NARRATOR

Gunshots ring out. The muzzle flash

of the revolver, one, two, three. The

Monster stops running as two gunshots

explode in his chest, then falls over

dead as the third hits him in the

forehead. He spasms on the floor and

gurgles before he dies.

SFX

(loud music and

screaming )

NARRATOR

Time speeds up again. Brady sits on

the basement floor cradling the

hysterical girl, the impossibly loud

rock music filling his ears. She was

safe, she was finally safe, and the

Monster couldn't hurt her anymore.

NARRATOR

2.10 pm 108 Meadow Avenue. Brady

stands next to Captain Dodd watching

as Abby Robbins in stretchered out of

the house. Her parents crowd around

her, doting, holding her hand,

telling her everything is going to be

alright. Brady smiles at this. It

might be the first time he's been

happy since his wife left him.

CAPTAIN FRANK DODD

You did good here today Brady. No one

would have figured that out. Not me,

not the State Police. Nobody.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Yeah well, I got lucky.

NARRATOR

Captain Dodd smiles and shakes his

head.

CAPTAIN FRANK DODD

Look, I know you've had a tough

couple of weeks but with this arrest

I'm sure I can get you reinstated and

those charges dropped.

NARRATOR

Brady smiles and lights a cigarette.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

I appreciate everything you've done

for me Captain. I really do. But I'm

giving my notice and I'm gonna plead

guilty to the charges. I don't want

to be a cop anymore, I should have

figured that out a long time ago.

NARRATOR

3.45 pm Home of Heidi Hitchcock.

Brady parks outside his old house and

walks up to the door, knocking softly

and waiting for his wife to answer.

HEIDI HITCHCOCK

You stood me up today.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Yeah, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it.

HEIDI HITCHCOCK

I saw you on the news. Are you okay?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Yeah, I'm okay. Look, I don't want to

fight anymore...

HEIDI HITCHCOCK

(interrupting and

angry)

Brady this isn't up for discussion. I

want a divorce...

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Yeah, I know you do. I'm here to sign

the papers. Whatever you want.

HEIDI HITCHCOCK

Are you serious?

BRADY HITCHCOCK

You're right to be angry at me and

I'm sorry. But that's not going to

change what I've done to you or Ellie

or our family. I know that now. I

know I can never make that right or

get you both back. And I'm not asking

you to forgive me. I'm just asking

you to understand that I'm sorry. You

tell your lawyer to send through the

papers and I'll sign whatever they

are, I'll agree to whatever custody

arrangement you want. Truth is, I'm

going to go to jail for a long time.

We all know I was a shitty husband

and an even shitter father. So you

and Ellie should move on. Maybe one

day, if I'm lucky, Ellie will let me

be in her life again.

NARRATOR

Brady smiles and kisses Heidi on the

cheek.

BRADY HITCHCOCK

Just know that I never stopped loving

either of you. I was just too much of

a fuck up to realise how good I had

it.

NARRATOR

8.16 pm Brady Hitchcock's Apartment.

He sits on his couch, a bottle of

whiskey, and a loaded syringe on the

coffee table before him. It had been

a long day. After Brady had said

goodbye to his wife he drove to the

hospital and sat at John Bailey's

bedside. He was in a vegetative state

and would probably never wake up from

the beating Brady had given him. He

shouldn't have done that. He always

knew he was wrong. Brady had told

himself that the rage and the drugs

had taken over and made him do

something that he wouldn't normally

do. But that was a lie. The truth

was, he was an angry person. A

horrible man with no control over

himself or his emotions. But

admitting that didn't change

anything. John Bailey was still in

coma with a machine breathing for

him, no apology was going to fix

that. Brady had robbed John of the

chance of vindication and justice the

day he bashed him with a tyre iron

till he was almost dead. What made it

all the more tragic was his son was

about to turn himself in as the

driver in a couple of hours.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady takes a long drink from the

bottle and opens up the one photo

albums Heidi had given him in the

breakup. It was of a trip they took

with Heidi's sister to a lake. Ellie

was young in the pictures, no more

than four years old. He remembered

the day so clearly because there were

swans at the lake and they were

nesting. At one point one of the

birds had charged at Ellie when she

got to close to her eggs and Brady

had protected her. It was one of his

favourite memories. It always made

him feel like a great dad. But as he

pages through the pictures it doesn't

play out that way.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

There's shot after shot of him

drinking, of his wife and her sister

with Ellie and he's nowhere to be

seen. He starts to think that maybe

none of this ever even happened, that

he simply wasn't there, just a

delusion along with everything else.

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady ties his arm off and picks up

the needle. He lets himself dream for

a moment imagining himself back at

that lake. Was this eternal return?

When he saved Abby did he save

himself or was all of this just a

jumble of memories he could no longer

make sense of anymore. Was it all a

test that he needed to pass or was he

just simply losing his mind?

NARRATOR (cont'd)

Brady presses the needle into his

vein and gasps as he pushes down on

the stopper. A rush like a freight

train rumbles through in his heart.

He falls to the carpet. He gasps

once, then twice... Maybe he'll wake

up tomorrow and know the answer... or

maybe, just maybe, he'll never wake

up again.

SFX

(Theme Music Rises.)

BARON SORDOR

(evil laughter)

What a wonderful way to end such a

bizarre, brain bending tale. I trust

that you, my most valued audience,

have savoured this evenings

entertainment as much as I have.

Unfortunately this is where we must

part, but remember, we will open our

doors soon for another tale of

terror, horror and suspense. I bid

you all farewell, until the next

episode of Baron Sordor's Theatre of

the Doomed.