Speaker 1: Hello listeners, and welcome back to Wonderwood and Flinch Season six,
coming at you in glorious stereo. All of my episodes
for absolutely ages have been in mono because before I
had podcast advertising, I used to have to pay for
my podcast hosting space, and I reduced the size of
my podcast files by making them mono. But I don't
need to do that anymore, and I just kind of realized, oh,
I don't need to do that anymore. I can release
podcasts in stereo. So yeah, here we are. Hair and
Skin was in stereo, and now this episode is in stereo.
Two yay stereo. Gosh. Talking of hair and Skin. You
may have noticed that I posted that recently, and if
you listen to it, well, I hope you enjoyed it,
that you checked out some of the other tales in
the whole of Mirror's podcast earlier on in this podcast
speed Oh yes, so we've got do is just scroll
back and find them and there they are well worth
a listen if I do say so myself. Anyway, So
this episode of Underwood and Flinch corresponds to episode fifty
of underwooden Flinch Underground over at Patreon, and I will
hand over now to my younger self with the original
Patreon intro to the episode, in which incidentally I talk
about dates in the month of April way back then,
so you know, they're completely irrelevant to us here in
twenty twenty four, so just ignore that stuff, Okay, So
anyway here I am, let's rewind. This episode returns to
Gerald and Miguel as they enter David's flat with the
intention of luring David over from Spain by doing unspeakable
things to his girlfriend Lisa. And we know from episode
one of Underground the outcome of those unspeakable things, but
what took place before David arrived we don't know, and
it's high time that we found out. This episode is
the first in a series of three, the content of
which is too large to pack into one podcast, unfortunately,
But what I'm going to do instead is to get
the next episode out by the fifteenth of April, and
the third one by the end of April. So for
those who struggle with maths, that means there will be two, yes,
two episodes of Underground next month to chronicle a nightmarish night,
which begins here and now in Underwood and Flinch season
six in tanniblis written and performed for podcast by Mike Bennett.
This podcast is intended for an adult audience. Listener. Discretion
is advised. Episode five, No, Miguel put out his arm
to block Gerald's hand from the light switch. They had
just entered David's flat. It's pitch dark, Migirl said, Gerald,
I can't see a thing. You want to see the
light on when she comes up the stairs. If she
left the flat dark, it does to stay dark. Don't worry,
I can see just fine. What am I suppings to do?
Follow you around like a blind man, bumping into the
verniture and tripping over the cat litter tray. There's no cat.
If there was, it smell it. Miguel steered Gerald into
the flat and closed the door. Wait here, I'll go
in and find some light for you. Gerald grunted his assent.
As Miguel went down the hall, dim light filtered in
through two open doorways, but not enough to see by.
He had to rely on his ears to have any
sense of where his companion was and what he was doing.
He heard him moving around in a room further down
the hall, the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing,
drawers being rifled through, and then suddenly light filled the
doorway at the far end of the hall. Gerald went
down and entered. It was a kitchen. The light came
from the open fridge. Gerald went straight to it. Hello,
anything's eating here? I'm starving? I did not look nothing
for me either way. Gerald considered the contents of the
fridge without enthusiasm, mostly vegetables, broccoli, celery, tomatoes, And then
was this yogurt, eggs, pot of hummers, pot of was
this taramuse latter? No, thank you? Cheese e dam to rubber?
And this half a mango? Ugh? And oh hello. He
took out a cling filmed tupperware container. Inside was what
looked like the remains of a partially consumed oily salad.
He sighed and put it back. H nothing. Why don't
you eat the mango, said Miguel, because they're a pain
in the ass to be quick at a pile of rock.
Now it's hoping she'd have some pizza or chicken drumstick.
You know, something tasty. What about that? Miguel pointed to
a saucepan on the stove. It smells fishy, she added.
For dinner, it's on the plane in the sink too.
Gerald went to the pot and inspected the contents and
the light from the fridge A half consumed tomato sauce
with tuna fish. It looks like a pasta sauce, he
sniffed it. Probably all right, but I'm not cooking out
pasta now, so just need it as it is. Gerald's
facial reaction wouldn't have been much different if Miguil had
suggested he eat it from the toilet bowl. Oh you
do that? Would you eat cold pasta sauce? Sure? If
I was hungry and still human? Gerald put the pan
back on the stove. No, thank you. I'll wait for
the journey home stop at a motorway services and get
a hot breakfast. Miguel shrugged, suit yourself. He picked up
an academic text book that was lying on the kitchen
worktop and began flipping through it. Almost that, asked Gerald.
Miguel read the title from the front of the book.
I else for Advanced Students of English. I else, said Gerald,
pronouncing the acronym as he heard it. What's that He's
an English exam They do it in Spain too, Did
you ever do it? Miguel put the book down. No,
I don't need it. Nonsense, Gerald scoffed. Everyone needs English,
most popular language in the world, not in Spain and Migo,
which is why I don't need it. Unlike you, I'm
not an immigrant, he grinned. Tell me, did you ever
do a Spanish exam? Gerald, Gerald harumped and resumed his
search of the fridge, as if there might yet be
a wayward sausage roll lurking behind the vegetables. Miguel chuckled, Okay,
I'm going to go to the front window and keep
an eye out for her. When I see a coming,
i'll call you. So what am I supposed to do
in the meantime? There's not much you can do except
sit down and chill. Then he laughed at his unintentional
witticism and pointed to the open fridge. Hah, you get it, Yes, chill,
I get it, said Gerald, blandly. You know quite the card, Miguel. Miguel,
unsure what Gerald meant by that, grinned as though he did,
and strolled off down the hall, leaving Gerald to perch
himself on a stool he took from beneath the countertop
and chill. It was forty minutes later when Lisa turned
onto Lansdown place. She hadn't planned on going out that evening,
but she had received a text shortly after getting in
from work from a former classmate at the language school
where she had met David. The girl, Maria, had been
one of the first friends she had made at the school,
but now she was going home to Italy in a
few days time, and the text had been an invitation
for Lisa to join her and some friends for farewell
drinks at the Pavilion Tavern. Lisa had texted her acceptance
of the invitation, immediately abandoning her plans for yet another
night of study and TV and going out straight after
her dinner. It had been great to see all her
old classmates again. They had asked after David and were
disappointed that he wasn't with her. It was a disappointment,
she shared. When he had first left for Spain, she
had called him every day, but he had never returned
her calls, his only replies being brief text stating and
thereafter repeatedly reiterating that everything was going well and he
hoped to be home soon, but the time frame of
his soon had become increasingly elastic. Annoyed, she had stopped
calling him in the hope that he would realize his
dereliction of her, but if he had, it hadn't made
any difference. He still didn't call, and unless she texted
him first, he didn't text either. Lisa wasn't used to
boyfriends ignoring her, and it angered her that he was
being like this, but she refrained from communicating as much
to him. Despite the voice in her head that told
her he was a bastard and she deserved better, she
was able to remind herself that the strange family business
that had taken him to Spain was, to him at
least no trivial matter, and that much as she might
be the center of her world right now, she was
not the center of his. So she had elected to
be patient, to leave him to do whatever it was
he had to do with his clearly dysfunktional family, and
to wait. She had no doubt that he would come
back to her when things were sorted out there, and
in addition, it meant she could continue to live in
his flat and focus on preparing for her eye Eltz exam.
She had jumped at the chance of flat sitting David's
place while he was away It was great to have
so much personal space and to be able to get
away from the often maddening lack of quiet and privacy
in the shared house where she rented a room, but
sometimes being in his flat alone, not knowing what was
going on with him or when he was going to
come home, was depressing, and more than once she had
gone back to her house share precisely because of the
lack of privacy and quiet. Being back there helped her
forget him for a while, spending time in the company
of her housemates, all of whom were international students like herself.
She had got the room in the house while she
had been a student at the language school, hearing of
it through the student grape vine. A tenant was leaving
to go home and needed someone to take over the
room and the deposit. Lisa had taken it on. This
was how all of the rooms in the house changed hands,
so it had been with the other tenants, and so
it would be with her when it was her term
to go back to Germany, that is, if she didn't
stay in Brighton with David until he had gone to Spain.
That had felt like an option, but as their correspondence
had begun to dwindle. She sometimes felt it increasingly less so.
As she turned onto Lansdowne Place, she cursed herself for
dredging all this up again. Her night out had been
a tonic, but now all the good she felt it
had done her seemed undone. She looked at her watch.
It was late, a quarter to one. For a moment,
she considered going back to the club that she, Maria
and the others had gone on to after the pub
had closed. It would mean taking tomorrow off work and
phoning in sick, something she almost never did, so people
will surely believe her if she did do it. She
stopped outside David's building and looked at her watch again.
Maybe it would be better if she just went into
work a few hours late. The German language section of
American Express wouldn't grind to a hold without her, at
least not for a few hours. Then she smiled to herself,
recognizing how in just a matter of seconds, the reckless
abandon of her taking a sick day had shriveled to
merely being a bit late. She sighed and fished her
keys out of her bag, reminding herself as she opened
the front door to go quietly up the stairs or
risk incurring the wrath of that weird guy shorn in
the ground floor flat. Miguel had followed the progress of
the woman as she came down the street. He didn't
know what Lisa looked like, but this woman more or
less fitted his imaginary picture of her, and when she
stopped outside the house and took out her keys, he knew.
He ran on tiptoe back to the kitchen, where he
found Gerald eating something from a plastic pot. He winced
at the smell and said, what's that pot noodle? I
founded in one of the cupboards. He stinks like shit? Wow,
Thank Graham, it doesn't taste like it. Look I was hungry.
Shut up, she's here, She's coming upstairs. Gerald froze, a
fork full of noodles, quivering between the pot and his mouth.
Are you sure sure as I need to be? Come on, Gerald,
put down the pot. Where to the living room? We
wait behind the door. When she comes in, we have her.
He ran off. There was no time to debate. Gerald
hurried after him. As he ran into the living room,
Miguel's hand shot out from behind the door, caught him
by the arm, and pulled him to his side. What
shut up? Miguel hissed, She's coming. I can hear footsteps
on the stairs. Gerald shut up and squeezed in closer
to Miguel. Miguel positioned the door as it had been
when they had arrived. Then both of them held their
breath and waited. Lisa entered the flat and switched on
the hall light. She took off her coat and hung
it on a hook behind the door, then went into
the living room. She turned on the light and dropped
her bag on to the sofa. She was about to
drop down beside it to take off her shoes when
she noticed the smell. She had made past a sauce
earlier that evening, the remains of which she had left
on the stove, but that would be long cold by now.
The smell was fresh, warm, vinegary. It didn't smell like
anything she had made or would make. Could it have
waffed it up from downstairs? Oh, she hadn't smelt it
in the entrance hallway. Puzzled, she got up to go
down to the kitchen, but her way was suddenly cut
off as the door in front of her swung closed
to reveal two men standing behind it. She froze one
of them, The young one, raised a finger to point
to his o eyes, and almost immediately a stillness descended
on her. The fear she had felt on seeing the
intruders disappeared so fast it was like it barely had
time to register with her. The man was strangely attractive,
no very attractive, but in a literal rather than a
physical sense. She was literally attracted to him, drawn to
him seeing the girl slip under his power. My girl
chuckled and said, oh lad, che go, Gerald, still rigid
with tension, said, is that it is? She fascinated? See?
She is all ours? So you want to party with her? No,
I'm bloody, don't come on. Let's just get this over with.
They took a chair from the small dining table and
set it directly in front of the door, so it
would be the first thing David saw when he came in.
Then they seated Lisa upon it so she was facing
the door from Lydia's house. They had brought the syringe,
topped with a capped needle, the small bottle of fentanyl,
and a roll of duct tape. They tore off strips
of the tape and secured Lisa's ankles to the legs
of the chair and her hands behind her back. I
don't know why we have to tie her up now,
said Miguel. David isn't gonna be here for hours. Why
can't we just leave her free for a while, and
so you're gonna have your little party with her? Gerald
shook his head. No way. What we're doing here is
bad enough without you inflicting yourself upon her. I wasn't
thinking of just me. Come on, think about how much
more upset Dave's gonna be if he finds her without
her clothes. Shut up, Gerald snapped, then, lowering his voice
back to a whisper, continued, no, just no, all right,
We're going to do what we have to do, and
that's it. On Seeing Miguel's lip begin to curl with scorn,
he added, remember Lydia orders. You know how important this
is to her. Do you really want to risk pissing
her off even more than you already have done. Miguel
considered for a moment, then grinned. Okay, Gerald, calm down,
It was just a suggestion. He stepped back and looked
at Lisa as he had commanded her. She was sleeping,
so you want me to wake her up. Now, geart
to make the call. Yes, the sooner the better. I
think I'll get her phone. Gerald went to Lisa's bag
and took out her phone. Miguel gently shook Lisa by
the shoulder, Lisa, wake up, Mia more. Lisa's eyes opened
and she looked up at him. We want you to
make a phone call to your boyfriend, David. Yeah, David,
but he is in Spain. Yeah, we know who. We
want you to call him, but he is not taking
my calls. He never answers. I always got a voicemail.
Miguel and Gerald's eyes met over her head. They hadn't
anticipated this. Then Miguel hunkered down so his face was
leveled with hers. What do you mean he's your boyfriend now? Yes?
And then as if she was realizing a doubt for
the first time. At least I think he is. He
is in Spain with his family. There is a crisis
to do with a man called Underwood. Yeah, Miguel nodded,
I know, but that's all okay, Now the crisis is past.
When was the last time you called him? I texted
him a few days ago. She didn't reply, obviously didn't
have his phone in jail, said Gerald. No surprisers there jail.
Lisa frowned her eyes, not leaving Miguirl's don't worry, said Miguel.
It was nothing there, a traffic offense. He is out now,
and if you call him he will answer, will he? Yeah? Here,
He held out a hand to Jeryl for the phone.
He flipped it open and went to her contacts. Then
he paused, what does it? Said Gerald. Miguel got up
and took Gerald aside. Then in a whisper, I'm just
thinking she's still relaxed. She doesn't sound like a woman
who's afraid for her life, does she. We needed to
sound scared, really scared when she calls him, So tell
her she's scared, just fascinated, didn't she? No, that's gonna
sound Forney. It needs to be real. We need to
make her terrified. Miguel, you can't take her out of fascination.
If you do that, you'll scream the bloody house down.
Not if I don't her not to don't worry. I
know what to do. Without waiting for a reply, Miguel
went to the kitchen. He came back a few moments
later with a large chef's knife, Okay, follow my lead.
What Gerald couldn't take his eyes from the blade. What
are you going to do with that? Scare her? Miguel.
Miguel touched the blade to the un the side of
Lisa's chin and tilted her face up to his Lisa,
I'm going to make you fully awake now, and when
I do, you won't be able to scream. You can't
even raise your voice. Okay, you are all quiet like
the little mouse. Lisa nodded. Okay. Miguel snapped his fingers
in her face. Wake up. Lisa blinked, and the room
rushed into focus. The young man who had been behind
the door was now standing over her and holding the
point of a knife to her throat. She couldn't move.
She was taped to a chair. An instinctive scream swelled
within her, but died in her throat. She gasped. Miguel
grinned and said to Gerald, you see now, isn't this better?
Who are you? Said Lisa. She had meant to shout,
but it came out not much louder than a whisper.
Miguel twisted the knife around so the sharp edge of
the blade pressing against the underside of her chin. You
don't get to ask the questions here, bitch. You just
do as we say and you don't get hurt. We
want you to call your boyfriend and tell him to
come home. That's all why. Miguel's hand lashed out, slapping
her hard across the face. Gerald was about to rebuke him,
but was stayed by a raised finger from Mgirl. Lisa gasped.
She had cried out a cry of rage and horror,
but only in her mind. No actual sound had escaped her.
It was like something had been blocking her airway. Part
of her wanted to try again, to scream at the
top of her lungs for help, but she didn't because
another part of her, a part she didn't recognize but
which seemed to have asserted absolute control, didn't want to.
Next time, I'm going to cut you, said Miguel. Cut
that pretty face of yours in the way that David
is never gonna want to kiss you again. You understand me.
Lisa nodded, her eyes down cast and filling with tears.
Miguel thumbed through the contacts on Lisa's phone until he
found David. There was only one person by that name,
but he showed her the screen to make sure is
this him. Lisa looked at the phone and nodded. So,
here's what's going to happen. You are gonna talk to him,
just you, not me. I don't want to speak to
him till he gets here. You're gonna tell him about us,
tell him we're going to kill you if he doesn't
come home right now, I mean immediately. Now, he's probably
gonna ask you a lot of questions, but you are
not going to get distracted. You tell him come home immediately,
or they kill me. Okay, are you what coming to
kill me? Miguel grinned, not if he comes home, But
if he doesn't, what if he's not there, if he
doesn't answer, he's not taking my calls. He never calls
me back. Girl, raised his finger. We know this, We
know all about his visit to Spain and his business
out there with his family. But he's all taken care of.
Now he's gonna take your call. But what if he doesn't.
Miguel selected David's name and pressed call Lisa. He's gonna answer,
trust me. He held the phone to the side of
her head, listening as she was as the call connected
and began to ring. After three rings, Lisa choked back
a sob and said, he's not answering. I told you
give him time, said Miguel. It's after two a m. There.
He's probably asleep. Of course, said Gerald, he could be drunk.
Miguel shot him a look. Gerald shrugged. Not just something
to bear in mind, AT's all. But then Miguel's head
snapped back to Lisa as a tiny voice came from
the phone. Oh. Lisa looked to Miguel, not for instructions,
she knew what he wanted her to say, but rather
in silent appeal for him to take the phone away
from her, hang it up and please God go away,
Lisa said, David there, Miguel nodded at her. David. Her
voice was trembling, close to breaking into sobs. David, is
that you? Yeah? I Lisa, I'm sorry I haven't called.
You have to come home now, please hurry? What Miguel
could hear the shift in David's tone from apologetic to worried. Why?
Why is it? What's happened? He says? You have to
come more? Or Lisa, who are you talking about? Who
says I have to come home? There are men if
you don't come home now, they'll kill me. On the
last words, her voice broke into sobbing. Gerald turned and
took a few steps away. He looked back at mcguel.
He was smiling. Lisa, who are these men? Have they
hurt you? Miguel glanced over at Gerald, seeing the look
on his face and mistaking it for worry about the mission.
He gave him the thumbs up. Not much, but they
say they will if you don't come home immediately. Who
are they? I don't know. Let me speak to them. No,
they won't speak to you on the phone. Just come David,
please they Lisa suddenly twisted away from the phone in
her seat. She wanted to shout, to scream at him
to stay away. Miguel pulled the phone away from her.
From his other hand, he dropped the knife and then
grabbed her under the jaw, forcing her to look into
his eyes. Immediately, she fell under his spell and he
released her. Miguel could hear David's frightened voice in his ear, Lisa, Lisa.
He liked the sound of fear in that voice. He
remembered the last time he had seen him David, watching
him die as underdrained the life from him. He looked
forward to watching from the shadows tomorrow when David came
back to find his beloved Lisa undead. Hello, Now, his
voice was suspicious. He knew Lisa was gone. Who is this?
At that moment, nothing would have given Miguel greater pleasure
than to announce himself. But if he did that, David
would call the sect and they would turn against Lydia
and him for sure. So he held his tongue and
contented himself to just savor the fear and impotent rage
in his enemy's voice. Who the fuck are you? Listen,
don't hurt Okay, I'm on my way, all right, whatever
you want. You're in charge. I get it, I just don't.
Miguirl sniggered, Oh yes, he thought, I am in charge, Pouda.
He closed the phone, and I'm going to have a
real good time with Lisa where we wait for your
bitch ass to come home and die? Well, said Gerald,
How did it go? Perfecto? Miguel stroked the back of
a finger down Lisa's cheek, enjoying how she didn't even blink.
Everything is going exactly to plan.
Speaker 2: And so listeners, what dastardly deeds does Miguel have in
store for Lisa in the hours before dawn.
Speaker 1: Join me next time as this night of horror continues
in Underwooden Flinch Underground. The music you're listening to is
Mad Armor by Farried far Yard, brought you courtesy of
Taranay Records and our good friend Fawaz al Maloud. You
can downoad the track from Amazon or iTunes or stream
it on Spotify. So there we are listeners, Season six,
episode five, and I hope you enjoyed it. As always,
there's not a lot of news here at my end.
Winter is settling in and it's sweat and windy and
cold here in Ireland, although we did have a bright
sunny day the other day and so I took advantage
of it to travel up to Dublin with my camera
to indulge my photography hobby and take some pictures on
Grafton Streets, which is the main shopping street there, and
around the Temple Bar area, famous for its cobbled streets
and music pubs. I took a couple of hundred photographs,
of which only a small number is actually worth sharing,
but I am sharing them on my second Instagram page
under the name of xyla photo, which is spelled with
an X like xylophone. I know it's a silly name,
but there aren't many sensible names left on Instagram, are there,
And this was the first name after my many attempts
at trying to find a handle there that was accepted.
So Xylophoto it is. But why do I need a
second Instagram page, you may ask, Well, I already have
an Instagram page, you see. But I figured my podcast
audience in general isn't necessarily interested in my photographic efforts,
you know, So my original Instagram profile is now going
to be more about me and my podcasting stuff, and
the new Xylophoto profile is for those few of you
who are interested in my photographic efforts. There are no
selfies in it, no talk of podcast, and I just
take pictures of the stuff I see around me. So
if you'd like to see the sort of stuff that's
around me here in Ireland, then do check out Zayla
photo on Instagram. That's x y l O p h
O t O Silo photo on Instagram. And also a
reminder that I'm on Blue Sky as well. I left Twitter,
or X as it's now known, and I'm over there
at blue Sky which is nice. Yes, I like it.
There you can find me as Mike Bannett. I got
in early enough to claim my name as my handle,
so there's no need for any strange word constructions or
to add any numbers or other words to it. It's
just me Mike Bannett at blue Sky dot Social. Oh
that's nice, Yes, yes it is. But anyway, that just
about brings us to the end of this episode of
My Friends. I hope you're enjoying season six and if
you are, then do please tell someone about it. I
am as I always have been dependent on the word
of mouth and kinder reviews of my listeners to spread
the word of this series. There's nothing else, so if
you could do that for me, that would be awesome.
Thank you so much, But from me for now, until
the moon rises again, over Underwood and Flinch, take care
and farewell.