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TRANSCRIPT: Footage cut from the final edit of web series "SPIRITS OF THE STRANGE" Series 1 Episode 12: THE ABANDONED BEAUXHALL CREMATORIUM.
A wall-mounted security camera shows a wide angle of a small, abandoned room. A rusted-out filing cabinet slumps in one concrete corner. On the walls: an old tag or two, some unreadable scribbles in permanent marker, and a suspiciously fresh set of anarchy As and pentagrams. A shiny red-sprayed “Abandon Hope All Yee [sic] Who Enter Here” looks like it’s still dripping.
By the boarded-up window, facing the wall, is a brand-new, cheap folding chair; in it sits HARTNELL, a young blond man with a terrible moustache and second-hand (likely third-hand) clothes. He is blindfolded with a sleep mask, and wears large over-ear headphones, hooked into a small radio-like device in his lap. A tripod-mounted cell phone films a close-up angle of his face. He holds his head tipped to the side, listening intently.
Behind him stand three men. MANSON, much taller and broader than the others and dressed as if ready for a day hiking the back country, nervously sweeps the beam of a huge flashlight over the walls. He’s wearing a helmet-mounted GoPro, pointed at his own face, filming in eerie green night vision. Beside him, DES VOEUX, a slight young man in all black with several silver rings on his fingers, aims a handheld camcorder at the final man: HICKEY, shortish, with red hair, an unfashionable goatee, and a serene smile, in too-large cargo pants and a fleece sweater zipped all the way to the chin. They’ve all got clip-on lapel microphones; HICKEY holds a small device with a radio antenna and several rows of cartoonish blinking LED lights.
HICKEY Alright. We all ready to go?
DES VOEUX Ready and rolling.
HICKEY waves his hands at HARTNELL. HARTNELL doesn’t notice or respond. HICKEY nods, then looks to MANSON, who gives him a thumbs-up.
HICKEY (To DES VOEUX’s camcorder, in a drawn-out, portentous manner:) We’re here at the site of the abandoned Beauxhall Crematorium, where dozens have reported signs of paranormal activity… from unidentified faces at the windows… to mysterious shouting… to one woman’s terrifying near-miss: almost pushed out a window by unseen hands… which is why we’re here to find out not just what pushed her… but why she survived at all…
A beat.
HICKEY (In his natural cadence:) Nah, let me take that again, that was shit.
MANSON She wasn’t fully pushed out the window, though, right? Just almost?
DES VOEUX Yeah, she was fine, it was ages ago.
HICKEY (Takes a breath, then, ominously and directly to camera:) …Which is why we’re here… To find out not just who – or what – could have pushed her… but why she survived her Encounter… with the Darkness…
A beat.
MAGNUS Wow. Sounds great, man, real spooky.
DES VOEUX Still got to do the room intro, you numpty, shuddup.
HICKEY Thanks, Magnus. (Clears his throat – back to the camera.) This is the east ground floor storage room… Used directly by those… Who brought the dead… To their final rest… And with us, for the first time –
HICKEY gestures for DES VOEUX to move the camera over to HARTNELL. DES VOEUX , after a moment of confusion and eyerolling, does.
HICKEY – Timmy Chartwell.
MANSON That’s not…
HICKEY We’ve changed his name… to protect his personal safety…
MANSON Oh. Nice.
DES VOEUX Oh my god just finish the lines.
HICKEY (Mysterious:) Timmy Chartwell… a young spirit medium… who has volunteered… to help us connect… with who – or what–ever – calls this dark place its home…
[EDITOR’S NOTE: HARTNELL, who does not identify as a medium, received a tenner and an eighth of marijuana for participating in the shoot.]
HICKEY This young rising star of spiritualism… Can neither see, nor hear us… The only voices that can reach him… are those of the Spirits…. Here, we have a list of questions… to ask the dead…
HICKEY pulls a crumpled bit of notebook paper from his pocket. He squints at it.
HICKEY (In his normal voice:) Your writing is shit, mate.
DES VOEUX Oh, for fuck’s sake, get off my arse about my fucking handwriting, it’s the 21st century, just because you have no phone and type with two fingers –
HICKEY The whole point is not to have wireless technology messing with the EMF meter.
DES VOEUX Just get a better EMF meter.
HICKEY You have no respect for tradition –
MANSON Are we explaining the Estes method in here, or back at the unit?
DES VOEUX Back at the unit. Only got another half hour til the security guard comes back ‘round, and I don’t have any more cash with me.
HICKEY (Physically pointing DES VOEUX’s camera up at himself; back in Mysterious mode) Tonight, we’re using a Spirit Box…
A beat.
DES VOEUX And?
HICKEY (Normally, with a shit-eating grin:) I’m leaving space for the edit, Chuck. Didn’t you say you wanted more of that, last time? Space? For the edit?
Suddenly:
HARTNELL Oh. Oh, I, uh. Ch – Children? Children, I think I heard. Jesus, that was weird. This thing is loud.
A beat. Then, overlapping:
DES VOEUX (Spinning on the spot:) What the fuck?
MANSON Oh, shit.
HICKEY What – we haven’t done the summoning yet. Magnus, I thought you showed him how to work it?
MANSON I did! We tried it out at the apartment and everything!
HICKEY Then…
HICKEY clears his throat. He gestures at DES VOEUX, who looks around, nervous; HICKEY rolls his eyes and moves the camera to face him properly once again.
HICKEY (Mysterious once more:) Is there someone with us, right now?
HARTNELL Yes?
HICKEY Holy shit. Alright. Alright. Mag, the light?
MANSON shifts the beam of light to better illuminate the paper in HICKEY’s hand.
MANSON Jesus, Charlie. Your handwriting really is shite.
DES VOEUX Oh fuck off.
HICKEY Greetings, friend. Please, if you can, respond to us with the Spirit Box –
Several LED lights on the EMF meter start to blink.
HICKEY Chuck. Cold spot.
DES VOEUX Shit. Really?
HARTNELL makes a face.
HARTNELL Can’t… believe?
Another silence.
HICKEY Can’t believe what? Are you telling us we can’t believe what we’ve been told about this site?
HARTNELL No.
HICKEY (Grinning, almost manic:) Can you tell us what we shouldn’t believe…?
No response.
HICKEY Alright, how about we try something else – are you human?
A beat.
HARTNELL Was.
HICKEY Was! You – you were human once? Are you speaking to us from beyond the veil?
HARTNELL Twat.
A burst of laughter from DES VOEUX and MANSON. HICKEY tips his head.
HICKEY Are you angry that we’re here?
HARTNELL Not safe.
MANSON taps DES VOEUX on the arm.
MANSON What does that mean?
DES VOEUX They’re pissed we broke in, obviously.
HICKEY Shut up. Shut up a second. Thank you for answering us, friend –
HARTNELL Cell? Cell, I think…?
HICKEY You – were you in a cell? Did you die here?
A silence. HICKEY tries again.
HICKEY Can you tell us anything about who you were, before? What this place means to you?
HARTNELL Get. Fun.
DES VOEUX What the fuck does that mean?
HICKEY (Overlapping:) You had fun here? In the crematorium?
HARTNELL Go.
HICKEY You want us to go?
HARTNELL Yes.
HICKEY, DES VOEUX, and MANSON look to one another.
DES VOEUX Oh, no fucking way am I leaving now. We have to stay. We have to.
MANSON I dunno.
HICKEY Of course we have to stay – this is unprecedented, even in our history – we have an obligation to the field to learn as much as possible –
HARTNELL Hurt a cat? Um, no, “heard a cat,” I think?
A beat.
DES VOEUX Like, something meowed in the spirit box?
HICKEY (Intently:) Did you harm any animals? In life?
No response.
HICKEY Okay. Okay. Are you the entity that tried to push Brianna Evans out that window?
HARTNELL Not.
MANSON Um, you’re not that one, or you didn’t try to…?
HARTNELL Not me.
DES VOEUX nearly drops his camera in excitement; MANSON’s mouth gapes open. HICKEY’s grin goes manic.
HICKEY The thing that pushed her isn’t here? There’s more than one of you? (Turning to DES VOEUX:) I told you, didn’t I! I told you there’s a bloody vortex here!
DES VOEUX It could be lying! It could be – a coincidence. With the box.
MAGNUS Kind of a lot, for a coincidence.
HARTNELL Move on.
HICKEY (Turning back to HARTNELL:) It’s moved on? But there are still others here?
HARTNELL Cell.
DES VOEUX Oh, shit – it’s trapped here… with the rest of the ashes…
HARTNELL (To himself, rubbing his temples:) Givin' me a headache, this.
MANSON Aw, mate. Could we take a break and give him an Ibuprofen, maybe?
HICKEY No, Magnus, we’re not done yet, we need to make sure the spirit is banished or it could – attach itself to one of us when we leave –
HARTNELL (as if startled:) Oh, sorry, uh – attention?
HICKEY (Back to HARTNELL:) Yes. Yes, we’re paying attention. Thank you, spirit. Is there something we should call you? Or maybe a message you want to pass on?
HARTNELL Fun.
A beat.
DES VOEUX Is that – is it implying one of the morticians maybe…?
HICKEY gives him a disgusted look.
DES VOEUX Well, it’s not exactly being specific!
HARTNELL Go.
HICKEY You want us to go, yeah, you said that –
HARTNELL Stay. Tom?
HICKEY You want us to go, but Tom to stay…?
HARTNELL (Overlapping with HICKEY:) Private.
HICKEY We’re professionals. We can’t just leave a junior member of our team here on his own.
HARTNELL Did once.
HICKEY stills, face gone flat. A beat.
HARTNELL Um. Towing?
DES VOEUX – Wait. Wait. Fuck. Wait. Is it – what time is – oh, fuck, my car.
DES VOEUX fumbles with the camcorder and pulls a cell phone from his pocket.
HICKEY Are you joking? I told you not to bloody bring that, it’s probably ruined all our readings!
DES VOEUX I had it on fucking – airplane mode, they’ve been calling me – they’re towing my fucking car!
DES VOEUX carelessly shoves the camcorder to MANSON, who takes it and aims it at HICKEY; then, frantic, DES VOEUX unplugs his lapel microphone from a pack around his waist.
HICKEY Chuck, what are you – if it’s already getting towed, it’s not getting any further away, mate, you can stay five more bloody minutes.
HARTNELL Oh, phone, not fun.
MANSON Oh!
DES VOEUX I can’t get another charge on my bloody card, my father will put me back on a bloody spending plan –
HICKEY Fuck’s sake – okay, it’s – we can’t just run off, we’re in the middle of something!
DES VOEUX opens the door and flees, letting it slam behind him.
MAGNUS Should we… keep going?
HICKEY Yeah. Yeah, have to do our due diligence. Fucking – posh little wankstain. We don’t need him, right, Magnus? Just us two, like the old days.
MAGNUS Minus Billy.
HICKEY Yeah, minus Billy, now let’s get back to it, alright?
MAGNUS Yeah. Sorry.
HICKEY S’all fine. We’ll séance in a couple days, see if we can call him up, ey?
HARTNELL (Suddenly:) Two.
HICKEY jumps; MANSON stiffens.
MANSON Two – two entities?
HARTNELL Hand.
MANSON holds up two fingers.
HARTNELL Turn.
MANSON flips off HICKEY.
HICKEY (Furious:) Oh for fuck’s – fuck off, Billy, for the love of God, this one was promising!
HARTNELL Twat.
MANSON Oh.
HICKEY Sorry, mate, whole experiment was a bloody waste, I guess.
MANSON S’alright. Nice to talk to Billy, I guess. Hi Billy.
HARTNELL Hello.
HICKEY Was this all you, Billy?
HARTNELL Tom, stay.
HICKEY No. Is there something haunting this place, right now, that’s not you?
HARTNELL (Overlapping:) Private.
HICKEY No, not private, that’s my Spirit Box and it costs a bloody fortune, thank you, not counting the headphones.
HARTNELL Stole.
HICKEY Oh, fuck off.
HARTNELL Tom. Listen. Tom. (Speaking for himself:) Eugh. Weird. Is it talking to me?
HICKEY Who sodding cares! The whole experiment is tainted!
MANSON It could be important.
HICKEY Fine. Fine, do whatever you like, I’m gonna go back to the van and see if they towed that, too.
HICKEY trades the EMF meter to MANSON for the camcorder, then turns the camcorder off. He takes down the tripod as HARTNELL continues.
HARTNELL (Once again speaking what he hears:) Johnny. Sorry. Sorry. Love. Sorry. Tommy. Sorry. Late. Love you. (Normally, but strained:) Um. It’s. This is.
MANSON Wasn’t his brother called Johnny?
HICKEY How should I know. James, maybe? A million lads named James these days.
HICKEY exits. HARTNELL and MANSON are left alone.
HARTNELL Love you. Tom. Miss. Accident? Sorry. Safe, proud. Love you. Love – (He sniffs. Rubs his temple.) This is getting pretty weird, I. I think. I think I might be done, now? I can do another couple minutes maybe, but, my, uh. Head hurts. Gonna take this off.
MANSON Yeah, mate, yeah, of course.
HARTNELL slides off the headphones and blindfold, rubbing his eyes.
MANSON Hey, Tommy.
HARTNELL Um. That’s. Does that usually happen?
MANSON Nah. Not really. Well, not to anyone else, yet. You did a wicked good job.
HARTNELL Um. Thanks.
MANSON Might be a medium for real, if you keep on it.
HARTNELL takes a deep, shaky breath.
HARTNELL D’you got any paracetamol? And water?
MANSON Got some Dr. Pepper in the van.
HARTNELL Oh, nice.
MANSON stands next to HARTNELL for a minute. HARTNELL leans over, resting his head in MANSON’s side.
HARTNELL This ghost shit is mental, mate.
MANSON Yeah, kind of fuckin’ is, innit.
They laugh a little.
HARTNELL Everyone else fuck off, then?
MANSON Yeah, sorry. Charlie’s gone and got his car towed.
HARTNELL Was that what…?
MANSON Think so.
HARTNELL (With a small grin:) Deserves it.
MANSON Yeah, he does, a bit.
MANSON looks to the wall-mounted camera.
MANSON Shit. Should get that one, if we’re not coming back later. Cost more than my rent.
He gives HARTNELL’s hair a ruffle, then crosses to the wall-mounted security camera. The last shot shows his hand as he reaches up to turn it off.
[EDITOR’S NOTE: For the last several minutes of footage, a strange pale shape may be seen to one side of HARTNELL. Around 18:33, the shape seems to resolve into the silhouette of a thin, pale figure, its arms reaching out and around HARTNELL’s shoulders. When HARTNELL removes the headphones, the shape seems to turn its head, nod, then fade entirely.]