This episode contains mature language and situations. To listener, discretion is advised.
You wake to the sound of a train, the clack clack clack of wheels
in the distance. Is that the sound of birds in a forest? No,
it's angels in a choir? Or is it demons from how It doesn't
matter. You have no memory of how you got here. All you know
is that you are lost and that now you belong to the Gray Rooms.
Hello roomies, and welcome to episode nineteen. We made it. Welcome to
the final regular season episode for season four. We really couldn't do this without
the support from each and every one of you, guys, from our loyal
listeners, patrons, cast and crew. We think each and every one of
you as you helped not only this season, but in growing our show.
And speaking of our show, we got one final tale from the pen of
Nick Monzolilo. Make sure you pick your numbers, get your powerballs in place,
and let's end this season to the bang. Thank you for listening,
and we'd like to remind everyone that Gray Rooms Productions has expanded its reach.
We now have access to Control Operator Jeff and the Ghost Signal podcast True Tales
about hauntings, sightings, the paranormal, and exorcisms from beyond the Grave.
Search for the Ghost Signal on spreaker or your favorite podcatcher, and visit Jeff
and the Ghost Signal at the Ghost Signal podcast dot com. So without wherever
do please enjoy episode nineteen. We're fucked, We're completely fucked, balmed down.
All we have to do is what has anyone calmed down after being told
to do? So? You tree hugging elves are all the same. I
wasn't the one who questioned him alone. You were impatient as always, Where
were you management wants answers? And you just disappeared. I ensured that our
female get would no longer be a problem. Yeah, well, if we
didn't have the extra protections put in place by the Alienist Lodge, they might
have found a way to escape, escape where further into hell. Seriously,
we'll be lucky if management doesn't erase our existence at this rate. We didn't
exactly leave the big battle at a good time. Balliol is going to be
pissed when he binds out. I should be summoning more demon spawn for use
there, not here in the gray rooms. And how the fuck did that
bitch get her magic back. I only meant to return some of her non
essential memories. The very nature of these rooms makes magic tricky at best.
At least we still have the angel contained. The roboman thinks he's his son.
We need to keep Azrael away from them. I all renew the wards
on his chains. Then we'll take care of our guests being loud there.
That should hold until we deal with our other problems. I'll help guide the
one called Findlay. He'll lead the group here. Then we can spring our
trap. Call upon your ominions to help motivate our guests. We're fucked.
We're so fucked. I me and the dog could pick you up after a
drip through the doors. But I still have understand how we're on the side
of a mountain and still inside of a train car. Jesus fuck. I
thought soldiers paid attention to a little details the last time. The train cars
are pockets of an alternate reality, a subspace, and we're in Hell.
Sure science stuff. God, I don't even know what system Hell is in
whatever, huh. I don't think our escape plans working. I'm not leaving
about Daniel. There could be an infinite amount of training cars we don't even
know if your son's here. I say, you let me try to manipulate
the space, as your type of energy could be very disruptive, unintended consequences
and all that. But if you think you can control it, he warner
guy, Next time, before you throw half a mountain, what did I
say about control? You're going to collapse for space with us inside it or
worse. I'm sorry. It's also coming back to me. This power sometimes
kind of feels like holding a skillet over stone. Over here, I found
the passage to the next car Imani fads for all our sakes, see if
you can exercise just a bit more restraints. I hate being nearer. When
she uses her mojo makes me feel like static inside of her radio. This
is no This room is different from the others. That's because it's been altered.
So we're in a giant abandoned factory at night. I wish I could
talk to the madman who created this place. Huh. They're keeping with the
we're on a train motif. Feels odd being in an open space, but
I like out the window. Everything is in motion. Technically, the spaces
are in constant motion. Did you hear change look they're at the end.
I see someone. They're chained in the wall. Daniel. Wait, something
soft. It feels like someone's watching you. You're my bit. Bring it
on? Yeah, Hellosuck, watch out. He's charged with a strange energy.
I can see it glowing beneath his skin. I don't think he needed
your mask anymore. It was somewhat restrictive. What the hell nice shopping your
face on the sand. I think it's about time we settle this. Care
to tell me who paid you to do it? Your mother, Queen Dandiana
clar Who do you think su blind? Ammunition? Doc? Get down?
That's a fay over, Daniel, Daniel, stay there. I'm on my
way, whole still all free thought. This was supposed to be your domain.
It is. My mother will never consoil with your kind. He wasn't
the first job she's asking me to do, ye royalty. They don't one
like getting her hands dirty? J Yeah, yeah, Christ call them in
now, Zuck, bit like we gotta go too much? Or lock?
You're locked? Danielous who are you? Zuck? Are you okay? Or
Spindley? Who is at the ground zero of that last I don't think he
made it shit rifle broke by. I tried to save him, it was
it was too much. Snot out of it. You still need to find
a seize place to lay all the hell did the train survive all of that
energy? Looks like most of it's still intact, But we're there. Looks
like part of a platform. I don't like the look of that beast.
There's only one door. Do you think you're one? I'm thinking I don't
know if it'll allow both of us to enter. No time to test any
theories. Go go go. The Architect's gond be pissed that we let the
angel free. Not as pissed as Billy I was going to be. If
we don't get back to the real battle in that other realm. Do they
both go through the door at the same time? Is that dangerous? I
don't really know. The rooms are a unique place in the realms. It
may be just a struggle of luck we needed. Regardless, souls will continue
to flow into the gray rooms, and our guests will both be weakened on
their return. Where'd Roboman go? He was destroyed, along with most of
our reinforcements. With Israel teleported it back to the mount. The amount of
energy needed to escape almost destroyed the rooms. The girl the Imani saved everything.
Yeah, but not everyone. Sorry but not sorry about your beast.
We need to return to the battlefield. Moth needs our assistants. I doubt
your cousin needs anyone's help. He's done just fine on his own, which
worries me why he's reaching out. Now, let's go. We can worry
about the rooms later. Bring your Vaylor, we may need him. Yeah.
Sitting in a room with a two way mirror was weird. I wasn't
a criminal, but I couldn't figure out why the mirror was in the room.
The Connecticut State Lottery Mission had to have its reasons. The meeting room
walls were white with chipped paint, and the table I sat at was a
sheet of metal that distorted my reflection. The more I sat and looked at
the mirror, the more I couldn't light myself anymore. I felt like I
was about to be punished for something. I had a sneaking suspicion that if
I tried the handle on the door, it would be locked. I stared
at the door and tried to ignore the mirror. My husband, Paul,
was a winner. We were winners, and this was probably standard protocol meant
to keep them safe. Money had never been night, but the idea of
never having to listen to another client's problems sounded nice. Paul had always talked
about traveling. He kept a spreadsheet on his computer of all the places worth
visiting, with a sublist of reasons why waiting in this room was a good
thing. Our lives would be changed forever once we left it. There were
a con artists that would want to scam us, long lost cousins and half
forgotten friends trying to get in touch, and potentially even criminals looking to take
what they can by force. Paul had a lawyer all ready to go.
The next time we returned to the Commission office, we would sign the forms
and get our direct deposit eighty million after taxes. The Bland door swung open,
and a man in a suit with his hair slicked back, sat down
at the table without a greeting. Something about the way he walked, flexing
and stretching his jacket and pants at the seams gave me the impression that he
wasn't used to wearing suits. Missus DuPont, we have your husband in the
other room. He's fine. I just have a few questions we'd like to
answer. Well, sure, and please call me Helen. Helen. When
and how did you meet your husband? We've been together for about eleven years.
We met during a New Year's party, if you can believe it,
during a New Year's party. And how specifically did you meet? We introduced
by a friend or the question was a bit too personal, not to mention
weird for a state lotto guy to bring up to the wife of a winner.
But I didn't mind answering. If anything, I hoped they would move
this silly process along faster. He walked right up to me and started talking
about the whale shark exhibit they had gotten at the aquarium. I love aquariums,
and his being so interested, not to mention handsome really made him stand
out. That is a little unusual, Is it not for a stranger to
appear in front of you talking about something you love? No? Not really.
He wouldn't have become my husband if I wasn't interested in what he had
to say. Those sharks were a big deal back then. Did anything else
funny happen that night, missus de Paul, Well, apparently he wasn't even
invited to the party. It was a work thing. He said that he
was in the building after hours and happened to crash it. He is an
it guy, Am I right? Yes, that's why he was in the
building that night. And then the thought came, did the commission think Paul
cheated somehow like counting cards? Didn't they think he was some kind of a
hacker? Is my husband? Okay? He's an honest man if you're implying
he didn't win fairly. Besides telling them the DuPont family lawyer would be pissed,
I couldn't think of a threat. I hated the type of person who
claimed to sue somebody when they didn't get their way. This was just a
big misunderstanding, if it even was one at all. I'm sorry, missus,
but if there is one thing you leave this room knowing is that your
husband is the furthest thing from honest man. I had started to say something
and then stopped. Would we still get the money if I insulted this creasy,
awkward man. Paul was being accused of something and the lotto commission was
trying to rob us of the winnings. My husband won fair and square.
He obeyed the rules of the game. Sure, where is my husband?
None of this made sense? Why was he questioning me? Could they even
do this? They didn't have any real authority, did they. I knew
they didn't need a badge to be in charge. These guys were the ones
with all of the money, and they could do whatever they wanted. He's
being asked a few questions the same as you. Then we will return him
after we go over our findings. We should return you as well. With
the money, ma'am, can you tell me the odds of winning the lottery?
What does that have to do with anything? The odds of picking the
correct numbers are the same as you taking damn near every single person in this
country, throwing them into some massive field, and then the first one of
them you walk up to is being someone you know. I'll get struck by
lightning a thousand times. This was something my chain smoking keno playing grandmother used
to say at family cookouts while she worked her way through a stack of scratch
tickets with her fingernails. Exactly the lattle man sat back in his chair,
His sports jacket slid aside to reveal the black butt of a gun polstered at
his waist. Just like that, I stopped wondering if this was some kind
of joke. I'll tell you a secret. There is a way to be
the odds that only a few people managed to succeed in each year. Your
husband is one of them. He didn't guess the numbers, No, he
did not. He knew each one he punched in. Among many other reasons,
he only purchased a single ticket. Paul was never a gambler. I'd
never seen him do a scratch ticket or play the lottery. He joked about
it, though, he joked about it so much that I assumed he played.
But Paul had never come home with a single ticket for as long as
I'd known him, until the day he won. So you're not going to
give us the money. Paul beat the system, but he wasn't smart enough
to get away with it. I couldn't blame him for that. He did
something that next to nobody else could accomplish. I'd picked right, I'd chosen
a winner, regardless of what he had in his bank account. When did
you first realize you were in love with Paul? I'm not going to tell
you that. What would he do to me? The man didn't reach for
his gun. He merely frowned, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
This is fuel benefit, missus Dupon. I'm trying to help you realize something
at least in your favor, and think of the answer. Take your time.
I fell in love with Paul within a month. If there was something
to be said about somebody being so perfect you couldn't imagine a life without them,
Paul was it. He was everything I'd ever dreamed of, everything i'd
ever confess to my friends about hoping to find the fear was finally realized.
Paul was too perfect, molded just for me, a customed portrait of a
lover. He'd never even hinted at being unfaithful, and sure we've argued good
naturedly, but I've never screamed at him. One of my colleagues had once
told me it's healthy to fight with your spouse. I really thought our marriage
was better than everyone else's. Paul Dupon pre calculated every reaction you would have
since that New Year's at the party where you met. These past eleven years
may have felt random to you, but they were not. I don't understand
you, possibly never will. I hope you can at least get an idea
of what your husband has done. To be honest, he doesn't love you.
My husband loves me. I couldn't imagine him not loving me. I
was beginning to understand the idea that he had lied. But how big of
a lie was it? And how long had it been going on? Your
husband met you before you met him. He lived nearly an entire lifetime before
you met him, and he seized the opportunity to live another life again,
using extremely rare technology. He lived it again with notes, dates, addresses,
and people. He wrote down a lot of numbers, some of which
he used for winning ticket. The lotto man was insane. When you're being
pranked by an insane person, it's less of a prank and more of a
horror show. I wondered if the Latto man was going to hurt me.
All I had was the chair I sat on. I could try and swing
it at him. I could try and take the gun. He did seem
awfully stiff and a mobile in that sports jacket of his. Missus Japone,
your husband has experienced the future. He transported his consciousness back in time.
We have a system in place to catch people like him. He will not
be harmed, but we cannot let him leaves. That's not legal. I
want to leave now. Your husband broke a law that has not been written
yet. This law has a statute of limitations that last up to a century
before and after the crime was committed. You may leave, but only to
score you out. I got up and the little man didn't react as I
walked past him. As I approached the door, the hairs on the back
of my neck stood up as I walked through the same gray and white corridor
I originally came through. I was caught as I passed an open door.
My husband sat at a table with three men sitting opposite him. The three
suits were trained on him, watching his every move, their weapons displayed at
their hips. My eyes drifted back to Paul, and he matched my stare,
his eyes wide in horror. I'm sorry. Paul had jumped to his
feet, but the other men around the table did react. The men turned
to look at me with pity. I do it all for you. Paul,
who was usually so composed and calm, was now bursting like a ZiT.
He was no longer the man I knew, instead of the love I
held for him. I felt only pain and pity in my heart. It
was the same pity you feel when you look in on someone's life far from
your own. Something about what the Latto man had told me about Paul being
too perfect formed a sour taste in my mouth. Before I knew it,
the Latto man came and ushered me along the corridor. Before I could say
a word to Paul. He did the door for himself, even if he
did love you. I know how this sounds, but he was supposed to
meet another man. He was supposed to stunt a different family. And it
seems like it doesn't matter anymore because he went enjoying a life, but it
was not supposed to be this way. He also a thousand lives just to
pay his own selfishness. Please turn into the next room. I should have
known. We weren't walking toward the front of the building in the way I
had come in. This place was a never ending maze of white walls and
unlabeled doors. Turning the last corner, the Lotto man led me into a
room with high ceilings and a spider web of wires and pipes spiraling along the
floors and walls. At the center of the room, surrounded by two men
in white lab coats, was what could only be described as a giant mechanical
spider. It was made of metal with six long appendages. The machine had
a series of straps at its center. They appeared to be made for locking
a person in place. This machine will bring you back to yourself on New
Year's Day twenty ten. You'll be painless, and you will not remember a
thing. You will allow you to live the life you will always made it
to please. I don't want to forget. I was happy before I came
here. Paul is my husband. Despite what he's done, He's changed from
who he was when he met me. If he was acting, he became
the act. There's nobody other than the Paul I know, missus du Paul.
I'm sorry, but you're lucky. You're being given an opportunity. Most
victims don't. Guests, people like Paul who travel back do not always go
for the lottery and make it obvious. They twist the whole world. They
whim and never get discovered. We do not even have an accurate statistic for
the number of people robbed of lives they were supposed to have I'm losing what
made me happy. This right here is making me a victim. I didn't
believe this. I couldn't. This was a mistake. Paul wasn't from the
future. He couldn't be. But then the Latto man drew his gun and
I couldn't ignore the weapon approaching machine. We will strap you in. You'll
hear a hum, and then you'll get an honest READO. You might as
well shoot me. Everything about myself will die if I go back to who
I was. I didn't even have my license to operate back then. I'll
never meet some of my friends because of my life with Paul. You're killing
someone who's been alive for eleven years, I know. I turned and finally
saw it, the black eye of the gun hovering over me, ready to
blot me out. The weapon didn't waver. There was nothing left that I
could say to convince him of the truth I knew about Paul. Instead,
I turned and approached the machine. The men in white lab coats, both
nearly identical with their balding heads and gray facial hair, strapped me in.
I opened my mouth to say something more, but then the world went black.
I hated lying to the victims. But what was the alternative? Tell
them the whole truth right off the bat. I'm sorry, madam, but
because of interdimensional politics, your life is fullfeit. Please follow me to your
death. Cleaning up a timeline was messy at best. I felt for Helen
as I stared at the corpse trapped into the interlocking muttle poles. I was
thankful it was not my job to carry out to the ens rat such a
waste of life. Her mind was free and the branching timelines were finally being
cruned. At least that was what I was told. At least that was
what I told myself on the walk back to interrogation room. For once there
I would put a bullet in Paul Upon's head. Then I would mop up
the blood and dispose of the corpse myself. Because Paul and the dirty cheaters
like Paul ruined the world, to the rest of us had to keep on
living in. I just cleaned up the messages they left in their wig.
Luckless written by Nick Manjolilo, with performances by Naya Dasso as Helen and the
narrator, Harim Kronfley as a lotto man, and Graham Rowett as Paul and
Then the Wolves Came, written by Arthur Runk, featuring performances by Brandon Green
as Caliban, Danielle Ellett as a money Jack, Carmichael as Finley, Jeff
Clement as Zook, and Tanya Maloyevich as Christ. Musical composition is by J.
M. Scharff. Episode artwork, web development in creative direction by Gassie
Pertit. Social media on Patreon. Management is by Brooks Bigley. Videography is
by Hailescher, and audio engineering and sound design is by me Jason Wilson.
Time to go play my numbers and buy some scratches down at the liquor store.
The jack pot for the Powerball is back to another record high. Baby
Well, Roomy's last stop is in Sight and we're coming in hot. We've
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stuff in there. Well nineteen. Now onto the finale, right, there's
a lot of work left to be done before we conclude this season, and
this finale has got to send you off with a bang. So I'm gonna
go ahead and dive right back in to the pool of mangoes and green peppers
and rubber mallets and watermelons to get those sounds just right for your audio excitement.
So hang tyke, we have our compilation coming up, and then we
lose this bad boy out and then don't think it ends there, because we
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This has been a quart Room's production. Copyright twenty twenty two, twenty
twenty three. All right, threserved that my otherwise dad