Hello you, and welcome back to Underwood and Flinch. Nothing to report from
me this week, so let's just hand over to me for the original Patreon
episode recap on events leading to where we are now in our story, So
a quick recap. In this episode, we rejoined Dame O'Sullivan, our newly
turned vampire who has recently washed up on the distant shore of Lady Rose Underwood's
subterranean apartment, a kind of underground townhouse with a basement level that includes a
kind of prison apartment for the willing captives that inhabit Rose's pantry. Last time
we were with a vampire couple, Rose took Damo down to the pantry to
feed. The episode ended with Rose telling Damo that they'd be going out later
on that night to find a new occupant with the pantry, because now that
he had joined their little family, they were going to be needing more food
to eat. She then got her teeth into him, instigating an act of
vampiric sex that I thought it best to discreetly lower the curtain on. But
now we find ourselves once again in Rose's bedroom as Demo awakens to Underwood and
Flinch. Season four, Underground written and performed for podcast by Mike Bennett.
This podcast is intended for an adult audience. Episode eleven, Demo's eyes open
to the sight of a large black spider on Rose's ceiling in no just at
first the other night. It had ventured out of its thick and dusty cone
of webbing in the corner and was now poised right above him, looking down
as though it were checking him out. Its web white with dust, spread
out from the center light, fitting to all corners of the room. It
looked ancient, like it had been around for years, a construction of generations
of spiders that this hairy little monster had inherited. He wondered if it had
any family nearby. As if on cue, other spiders just like it began
to emerge from the dark shadows around the ceiling. There were hundreds of them.
The web trembled as they converged on the spider above him, some moving
slowly, others with freakish speed. Demo watched, revolted and horrified as they
coalesced like smoke into a seething blackness above him. Jesus, he thought,
she's really let this place go. If we'm going to be moving in here,
We're gonna have to have a serious fucking clean up. You can't just
move in and start telling her what to do in her own place, mate,
said a familiar voice. Demo raised his head and saw Hodge sitting in
the wing backed chair behind the door. He looked well, just as he
had done before Sergey killed him. Strangely, Demo wasn't surprised to see him.
Are you mental, he replied. The woman has a serious spoiler problem,
I know, and an even more serious rat problem, said Hodge.
But it's like the song, isn't it, Love Me, Love My Dog
what? Demo's face screwed up in disbelief. It's not a golden retriever,
Hodge. It's a swarm of fucking rats. If you've seen the tings.
Oh yeah, I've been keeping up with you ever since you walk up in
the morgue. Oh was he know that I'm one of a feck in on
dead now, yeah, Hodge nodded, Bad luck, mate, Not all
it's cracked up to be. Eh? No, too fucking right, it's
not. I mean, look at the state of this place. It's He
turned to rose to see if she was awake, and following the conversation,
but she was fast asleep. Hey. He gave her shoulder a shake,
but she didn't move. He turned back to Hodge and said, in a
quieter voice, it's a fucking tip or maybe, but it's better than sleeping
on the underground, isn't it. Well? Yeah, but for fock's sake,
Demo looked around the room. Is this if from now on living in
this rotten shiit ale and drinking blood from them poor women down in that fucking
cell every night? Hey, do you know she's even talking about grabbing another
poor bastard, Another lost soul will added to the pantry, And that'll be
because of me. I'll be the cause of that, just as I'm the
cause of that dead priest. And and Dunge. He put her hand over
his face to hide his sudden tears. Jesus, Hodgey, I killed Dunge.
I know, mate, Hodge sympathetically. But it was an accident,
an accident, Yeah, sure, So what did I do form the ambulance?
No, I drank her blood, has a spirited out of her.
We didn't even try to help her. Another voice replied from the other side
of the room. No point in beating yourself up over a Demo. What's
done is done. You gotta keep moving son, onwards and upwards. Demo
turned to see Keith over by Rose's dressing table. He was wearing his west
Ham shirt and, like Hodge, seemed to be in rude health. But
that's easy for you to say, said Demo. What are you doing here
anyway? Don't tell me you're dead too. Nah, I'm as right as
rain, mate, unlike you too, he grinned. So you were saying
that being a vampire isn't all it's cracked up to be. Yeah, it's
like being aware. It's kind of fucking chunkie. Yeah, but it is
upsize in't now, said Keith, nodding to Rose. She's a bit of
all right, and she lord unders Bud, you're down. Will for yourself
there, mate, Yeah, until he turns up and they get back together
her again. You think that's what she wants, said Hodge. Demo shrugged.
I don't know, but think about it. There's him, tall,
dark and handsome, rich and sophisticated, and then there's me. Yeah,
but you're forgetting he's a can any said Keith. He's treated her like shit?
So what said Demo? Some birds like that. Maybe she does,
she doesn't seem that time to me, said Hodge. Does she take any
nonsense from you? No? Well there you go. Then come on,
mate, she likes you, you know she does? Yeah, and I
like her. But she's a vampire. She's undead. She we feed after
living. Can you imagine just how fucking disgusting that is? I mean,
I disgusted myself, Really I do. He shook his head sadly. I
don't know if I can live this way, lads. I mean, this
isn't some kind of lifestyle choice. This ain't like moving to Spain or something,
something that you can move back from if it don't suit you. This
is forever. I'm fucking immortal. I wish I was, said Hodge.
Seriously, you'd preferred this life to being dead, because I fucking don't.
I'd swap places with you any day. So why don't you stop yourself?
Then, asked Keith. I don't think I haven't taught about it. Since
you ain't done that, you must have decided that being a vampire ain't all
that bad. Yeah, well you obviously haven't taught about the vampires suicide options,
said Dame mo. He held up a hand and counted them off on
his fingers. Fall on a wooden steak and hope that they get you through
the heart, cut your head off, or go out in the sunshine and
get incenterated. All right, said Keith with a shrug. So the first
two are a bit impractical, but that last one's a duddle. Sure it's
going to sting a bit, but it won't last long, not like this.
He waved a hand around the room. You got to ask yourself,
Damo, a quick fry up with you as the sausage or an eternity of
this, Damo considered. He tried to imagine the searing pain, the agony
of being burned alive? How long would it take to die? Would his
flesh struggle to heal itself as it burned? Could he accelerate death by inhaling
the flames and searing his lungs? He closed his eyes. It was too
awful to contemplate. There is another option, said Hodge, what, asked
Damo, despondently. You reckon Lord Underwood's come into town, don't ye,
Damo smiled. I know where you're goin, Hodge. You think he can
undo it somehow, that maybe there is a way back. He shook his
head. But no, it's not possible. I thought it might be,
but Role says it ain't. No, that's not what I mean. I
know all that I've been following you, remember, So what do you mean?
Hodge sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Underwood knows you,
doesn't he. Demo nodded, Yeah, and he knows you saved his
life at that nightclub, right you and David Flinch? Well, yeah,
I suppose so. So don't you think he owes you a favor, A
favor? Yeah, Hodge smiled. He owes you his life made. So
surely this wealthy vampire lord with houses all over London might be able to extend
you some kind of thanks. He watched his words sink in, then added,
Now he probably doesn't know what's happened to you. I dare say,
nobody does. You're supposed to be dead. But when he finds out,
well, why on earth wouldn't he help you out? I never thought of
that, said Demo quietly. You're right he might help me. Of course
she would, said Keith. He could give you one of his asses,
and all who wouldn't expect that? Said Damo, And don't forget there's erin
all, said Keith, indicating Rose. She's going to want to come with
you and get a piece of the action. After all, he owes her
nearly as bad as he does you for leaving her in a ship all these
years. But she's got this place, said Damo. Keith laughed, Oh
yeah, lovely backing and fucking palace. This is no. I don't want
to bring her into this, not yet. I want to keep it simple
between me and him. Well, that sounds sensible, said Hodge. So
do you think he's actually arrived yet. Well, according to the papers,
there were two murders that night I killed the priest. That means that there's
got to be another vampire in town, right, said Hodge. And Lord
Underwood's another vampire. There can't be too many around came there. Yeah,
but Rose says that auto murder was too messy to be Underwood's work. And
nobody's perfect, said Hodge. Everybody messes up sometime, Yeah, said Keith.
He's been asleep for fifty years. Maybe he's off his game. Demo
looked at Hodge, So what do you think I should do? Well,
you know where he lives, just go round and talk to him. Demo
nodded, Yeah, you're right, I should go round and talk to him.
I would, said Hodge. M me, said, Keith. Better
than trying to fall on a stake in it or live an ear with that
thing. Go over your bed, said Hodge, pointing a finger to the
ceiling. Demo looked up to see that the spiders' bodies had grown into a
surging black vortex that covered the entire ceiling. The darkness, said, its
center began to swell and expand, and from it a human shape began to
emerge, the head and shoulders teeming with spiders that tumbled away from it,
raining down on Demo and revealing as they fell the face of wood. Demo
woke with a start, his heart pounding and a scream stalled in his throat.
His knockdown all eyes revealed the ceiling to be free of spiders. He
looked at the chair where Hodge had been. It was empty except for roses
blood stained dressing gown. Then he remembered it was his blood on the gown
and hers. The sex had started in the lift, with her feeding on
him. Then they stumbled through the apartment of the bedroom where he'd fed on
her. It had been savage, primal, delirious, everything she said it
would be and more. He turned to look at her where she slept beside
him. Her back was to him, her body rising and falling softly with
her silent breathing. The pillowcases and sheets were stained with blood, as was
her blonde hair. He looked at his hands and arms and saw they were
also bloodstained, but roses bite marks had faded to nothing. He got up
quietly and went out to the bathroom. After urinating, he washed himself at
the hand basin with a bath sponge, then brushed his teeth. There was
no toothpaste. He made a mental note to buy some. He went to
his backpack and dug out a change of underwear and socks, Wishing he'd also
brought more clothes with him, but since he hadn't, he had to gather
up the clothes he'd been wearing since he arrived in London. He went to
give them a cautious sniff to see if he could get away with it,
but winced and tanned his face away before they even got near his nose.
It wasn't just the smell of his dried sweat that was repulsive. It was
the smell of the priest's blood, old dead sour. It had dried into
his hoodie around the neck and wrists. Fortunately the material was black, so
no casual observer would notice, but he would. It would be right under
his nose. But then what choice did he have. As he got dressed,
he made another mental note to buy some clothes. He checked his wallet.
He was down to his last thirty pounds. He cursed, he was
going to need more. But where would he find it? As if in
answer, Hodge's dream words came back to him, he owes you his life
made so surely this wealthy vampire lord with houses all over London might be able
to extend you some kind of thanks. Damo smiled, grateful for his friend's
dream visitation. As ever, Hodge had seen the right path, and Keith,
well, Keith had had his input too. He needed to get over
to Underwood's house, and preferably before Rose woke up. He checked his watch.
It was coming up to eight pm. He wasn't sure how much sleep
he'd had After they'd made love. They talked for what had seemed hours,
But one thing he had learned about Rose since being here was that she slept
long and deeply, probably because she never had anything to get up for.
He left the bathroom and went down to the elevator. He was about to
board it when he remembered the noise. It made, a squeaking, clanking,
groaning cacophony that would likely penetrate even roses heavy slumber, so instead he
went to the door beside it and the stairs that wound around the sides of
the lift shaft. The door was still ajar from the rats swarms earlier exodus.
He felt a shudder of revulsion and wondered if though any of them still
out there on the stairs, hanging around and waiting for Rose to let them
back in again. He pulled the door open, and a warm breeze,
redolent of the underground, drifted in. He stepped outside on to the small
concrete landing. He pulled the door closed behind him, and the sound echoed
in the shaft. The only other sound was the ghostly crooning of the wind
as it sought the air vents somewhere up above him. Damo peered over the
handrail and down the well of the shaft. The concrete stairs spiraled down to
a darkness that even his nocturnal vision couldn't penetrate. He gazed into it,
trying to fathom its depth. He thought he heard the distant squeaking of a
rat. He took a step back and hugged the wall. He looked up
and saw the final stop of the elevator was directly above him, two whole
circuits of stairs around the circumference of the shaft. He started up, keeping
as close to the wall as he could. He didn't trust the hand rail.
Its ancient green paint was scabbed with rust, and in places the metal
had been eaten away completely. Carefully, he ascended, keeping his eyes fixed
only on the next few stairs ahead of him, until finally he reached the
landing. There was a door beyond which he knew was the basement hall of
the university building. He realized immediately that it had to be locked. He
tried the dust covered handle. It rattled, but sure enough remained firmly closed.
Shit, he hissed. He'd have to go back down and take Rose's
keys from her dressing gown. But if he did that, he'd be effectively
locking her in. He couldn't afford to piss her off. Like that.
Not at this delicate early stage in their relationship. He felt his resolve slipping
away. Maybe he should just go back down and get into bed. Later
they'd go out and hunt a new tenant for the pantry, and they could
feed. Rose could make the decisions about what to do concerning Underwood. That
thought summoned a response from Keith in his mind. Oh yeah, that will
work out, just beachy. She'll go round his house, give him a
proper ear bashing about leaving her after the war, probably chuck a couple of
plates about too, because birds do that, and then she'll storm out slammed
the door after her, and she'll be there dragging along on her coat.
Say I was like that. Soy boy, muppets you are? He said,
what you want? No, said Damo aloud. He reconsidered the door.
He could force it open. He had no doubt his new strength would
break the lock easily. But that could leave Rose vulnerable to discovery from anyone
who may be on the other side of it. No, he had to
go back down. Keeping the piece with the Rose was too important. He
was just about to begin his descent when a thought occurred to him. What
if there was a spare key. He reached up along the top of the
door frame and grinned as his fingers lighted upon a dirt speckled key. He
dusted it off with his fingers and tried it in the lock. The lock
was a little stiff, but it turned. Then he pressed his ear to
the door and listened beyond it, there was only silence. He opened the
door a crack and peeked inside. The hall was dark and empty. Clearly
the place was closed for the night. He slipped through the door, relocked
it, and put the key into his pocket. Then he went to the
door that led out to the street. He hesitated, checking the bottom of
the door for signs of daylight, but there was only a ghostly sodium yellow
strip of street light. He smiled, opened the door and stepped outside.
The evening was cool, and though the smell from the basement bin covered opposite
Rose's front door was less than fragrant, he was once again out in the
fresh air. He drew in a deep breath, imagining it blowing away the
dust and mole that must have settled in his lungs since his descent into Rose's
lair. Then he trotted up the steps and out under the street. To
his right, at the bottom of the street was the river. To his
left at the top was the strand if he remembered rightly, Bloomsbury Square was
north of here, straight up a main road. He could probably be there
in fifteen minutes. And so Demo takes a short walk to Underwood's house.
Will he find his lordship at home? Surely not, for as we know,
Underwood is dead. But as I look in my crystal ball listeners,
I see quite clearly that the lights are on and someone is home. Find
out who next time in Underwood and Flinch. The music you're listening to is
Ammad Armored by Faried far Jard. Go to see of Tarana Records and our
good friend Fara's al Malud. You can buy the track from Tarana Records,
from iTunes, from Amazon, or of course, stream it from Spotify,
Google Music, and YouTube Music and everywhere else that streams music. So there
we are, ladies and gentlemen, episode eleven of Underwood and Flinch season four.
I hope you enjoyed it and that you'll be here again next week for
episode twelve. And hey, if you did enjoy it, why not tell
someone about the Underwood and Flinch podcast. It's not like it was back in
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to tell someone about the podcast. Back then, most people didn't know what
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at you strangely if you give them this juice podcast listening recommendation, is it,
especially if you sweeten the deal by telling them it's been optioned for television
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two. I don't know, But anyway, that's enough of that. All
that remains is for me to say thank you for listening, and I hope
to be in your ears again when the moon rises over under Wooden Flinch next
week. But until then, from me for now, take care and farewell