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Well, you know what they say about something that's too good to be true.

I couldn't move. I couldn't scream.

I don't believe in this stuff, but I've been told it--

Technically speaking, there are three kinds of paranormal event.

I see how it can be a choice.

You know, to follow something,

to believe it, or reject it.

What's a story worth?

One story.

Stories make sense of existence.

So how valuable can a story be...

...as an alternative?

What about just one story?

Or should we be asking what that story can bring?

Esteem.

- Power.

Respect.

How about one warm autumn day...

...a hungry young writer of modest success

was invited to leave the distractions

and seductions of the city.

He was alone...

...and he wasn't alone.

If he was looking for a new voice...

...he was assuredly successful.

The song was different with Guy.

It wasn't one of betrayal. It was of being all wrung out with nothing left.

A mouse in a web... drained.

Then it was as though something else had taken over.

Something foreign but...

- ...familiar. - A sad young writer's in front of me.

He needs a pep talk.

Yeah, Marty, take all the time you need.

- You know me. - What's this regarding?

Ah, I'm sure it's tripled in value,

but I've been too busy making you rich.

Yeah. I'll just have to crash with you

next time I'm on the island.

Okay.

Good.

Martin Cline.

- Martin Cline. - Remember you should

just buy a, a typewriter when you're out there...

...and that would round out your image. Right? The--

- Right. - The only white man thing they seem to be

- saying these days-- - Right. Maybe you should take your meds

so you could round out your image here.

And also, pick up the phone when they give it to you

'cause it's gonna be me. You don't believe it,

but it is gonna be me, and I'm not gonna be an Indian

- trying to steal your social. - That fucker tried to kill me.

- No. No. - He hates me.

He tried to help you,

- and you hurt him. - Who you gonna believe?

Him.

Okay. Okay.

- Okay. - Can you just sleep here?

Uh...

I can't because we did that already, and I got ejected

because of the fucking regulations, right?

And I can't be waiting tables

and then taking the advance away, which we spent.

I wake up terrified every night, and you're just gonna leave me here?

It's not an option, Mom.

Shut the fuck up, Jimmy!

Come, come here. Come here. Come here.

What?

How you doing there, Miss Laury?

- I'm sorry. - What?

- Okay. Okay. Can we talk? - Sure.

- Thank you. - Oh, right.

We're just having a conversation, Mom. - You don't need to walk away.

- You can do it here. What... - We're gonna have one simple--

- ...you wanna handle me? - Hey. Hey.

- Is that right? - Miss Laury.

- Oh... - Mom, we tried reasonable.

"Mommy, Mommy! remember when I was a baby, too?"

- Oh, no. - Oh, shit.

...do not, do not, do not...

It's just, um,

like a room and board for free for two months,

and no strings, and, and just me...

...finishing this book.

- That's great. - Yeah.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

This is, like, um, the last chance... ...for me.

- Yeah. When do you leave? - I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.

- Uh, right now. - I'm fine. Oh.

Well, um, Accounting wanted to see you before you leave.

- Something about invoices? - Oh, yeah. Yeah. Definitely. For sure.

Free at last.

Another year or two like this,

he might have started rethinking his goals.

There's more than the webbed trap of fear... -

....of repetition. There's more than--

Homeless is a ridiculous word

for someone with a MacBook.

There's more than your ambition,

- your dreams, desires. - Guy Laury?

There's more to you

than your prerecorded story.

- Guy Laury? - Yeah.

Looks like you're the next one up.

I'm sorry. I, uh...

To the island, you're the next one up. - Oh.

Right. Great.

Homeless is a ridiculous word for someone with a MacBook.

But right before I met him, Guy's last couch in the city had decidedly...

- Um... - ...worn out its welcome.

...it's just you and me?

This fun little guy, right?

You comin'?

Eight years since his breakout success.

A thinly-veiled autobiographical account of his odd childhood.

By this point, the money had run its course,

and he was nearing rock bottom.

"Rock bottom"... he thought.

And all he needed now...

...was to birth what he'd always known was deep inside him.

Oddly enough, Homeric poetry had a word for this... thing

in our body that pulls us towards the heavens.

It was their word for ghost.

The gods were less torn than man,

pulled between knowledge and the visceral denial of it.

For example, Melpomene, the muse of tragic poetry,

was also mother of the sirens

whose songs would lure sailors

to their deaths on the jagged rocks.

You know any trails?

- What? - Hiking, running.

- Little cold out. - Oh, I got gear.

An owl ripped the scalp right off a tourist last year. Nature hike, they said.

The immortals couldn't relate to these kinds of stakes in any reality.

There'd never be a place where they could fear pain

or labor or murderous incest.

Martin Cline. Martin Cline.

- He lives here. - Martin Cline?

Yeah. Not far from you. - Fucking Martin Cline.

Now that being said, the petty gods of antiquity,

while vain, deceitful and cruel toward man,

would celebrate his existence, for they were cursed to an eternal leisure

whose only solace was in imagining

what it must be like to fear a mugging, or a car crash, or death.

You mind holding up for a second?

I wanna make sure that the key

is where they said it was.

- Sure. - Great. Thank you.

Hey!

Really?

Great.

Great.

Great.

Oh.

Why?

Okay.

Mm-mm.

Okay, here we go.

Free at last...

...and all he needed now...

...or never...

...was divine imagination.

Just beyond reach for...

How long had it been?

Big news is that there is more.

There's more than the lens through which you see the world.

There's more than your perspective.

There's more than your ambition,

your dreams, desires. There's more to you

than everything you've ever thought, said, or done.

There's more to you than your personal story.

Well, I mean, that is a lot less terrifying than the logic,

which is that it's all just chaos,

and there's no meaning at all, right?

And technically speaking, there is these demonic,

which is a nonhuman, haunting immortal.

There is the human intelligent, which is a dead person...

You have four new messages.

- First message. - Hi, Guy.

- Um, it's Maurice at Hudson Care. - No.

Listen, I can get you a number for a public ward.

- It's really not as bad as you think. - No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

- Now once you figure out that stuff... - No.

- ...with our accounting office and those, uh... - Fuck.

- ...unpaid invoices. - Fuck!

Listen, I'm sorry for your situation, but we're not a shelter.

- All right.

Where do you go just now?

Eight years sinceLost Child...

...nothing left.

Hey.

Hi.

Hi.

- Uh, what, wait. - I brought you here.

- Um-- - On the puddle jumper.

- Yeah. - You were a little bitch about it.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

- Uh-- - Can I get you something?

Yeah. Whiskey?

Doesn't matter. I'm easy.

Uh-huh.

We'll see about that.

Lucy, could we have some more quarters, please?

Yeah, you got it.

Here.

Lucy.

- What's your last name? - It's kind of surreal, right?

The island.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, that's one way to put it.

- So what brings you? - I thought you brought me here.

- Wow. - Um...

Um... just, uh, residency.

What, are you a surgeon?

- Writer. - You don't say.

I never would have guessed it. Not in a million years.

Is it the glasses?

Demeanor. White guy and a typewriter, right?

So are you looking for a story?

Well...

...drink up, Guy.

Drink up.

Um, I'm gonna...

I'm gonna take a rain check.

- What's the damage? - I don't want your money, baby.

Really?

Well, thank you.

Um...

...I'll, um, see you later.

"Get back to the house...

...write a masterpiece," he thought.

...pod content to you every day.

You can learn more about the all-terrain cross trainer

by clicking on the link at the bottom right of your smartphone.

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Someone here?

I need you.

There was a time when he needed to write.

Where'd that time go?

First message.

Hi, Guy. It's Susan at Brooks Publishing.

I hope that you're enjoying the house.

Please give me a call when you can.

I'd like to see what progress you've made

and where we're at. Talk soon.

He'd come in search of direction.

If he was looking for a new voice...

- ...he was assuredly successful.

...obsolete, discarded based on your gender and race alone.

My goodness, how novel that must be for you.

Hmm.

What...

Shit!

Ah, Jesus.

Hello.

Credit points... - ...tricks...

They usually wanna be mistaken for the death, but they were never really...

Eight years since his breakout success.

Free at last, and all he needed now, now...

...birth what he'd always known...

...inside him. Eight years since his breakout success.

Are you speaking of divine imagination

that had eluded him just beyond reach?

Just beyond reach. Just beyond reach.

How long has it been...

Hello?

I need you.

I need you.

I need you.

He really didn't get that very often. Even from Mary.

Morning.

Jules, I'm trying to log a guest,

and it's coming up as a new book.

- "Laury." - Laury.

He's upstairs.

- Guy Laury is? - Yeah.

That's his name. The cardholder.

Why?

You know, he was asking about the ghost tours,

but he did not have the kid with him.

- Hi, Laury. - Yes?

Hi.

- Uh, hi. - I'm, uh, Julie Coffin.

I'm an administrator of the library. - Oh, okay. Uh, nice to meet you.

I just wanted to welcome you.

I haven't had a chance to read Lost Child

because all of our copies are, um, in pretty high demand.

Oh. Thank you for saying that.

I hear that you're researching something pretty specific today.

Oh, uh, more, more, more just curious,

um, about a ghost folklore.

Um, I understand it's popular, and, um,

I, I just-- I was wondering why.

Um, well,

I'm sure that Sue told you that most of the literature

we have on that subject is...

...in the Young Adult section.

Right. Yeah.

Hey, but I would be, um, happy to provide some insight

if you would like a tour.

I don't wanna take you away from anything. - Uh, no, no, not at all. Um...

...it's a very slow day. It's a very slow day.

I can say it loud. There's no one here. -

The vanquished demon turned into serpents and swam to sea.

A widow's walk. You see these railings up here?

- Yeah. Yeah. - Um, a widow's walk was a deck above every household,

where, uh, captains and sailors' wives would wait

till their husbands' expected return.

- Ah. - They would have to set sail to the other side of the world.

And so a person wouldn't know when to stop pacing up here.

And then hundreds of years later,

vacationers swear that they wake to the sound of footsteps overhead.

Pacing back and forth, just waiting.

You know, um, I'm a liar.

Uh, I didn't wanna gush.

I, I loved your book.

Oh.

Uh...

Can I ask you, uh...

Uh, can I ask what you're wearing?

Oh. Um, uh, I'm a trail runner.

- Oh. - Uh, yeah.

That's all I really care about.

He didn't love getting asked about his shithead dad

and crazy mom, but he had exploited it,

true or not.

"What a stupid thing to say," he thought.

Who or what could need him for anything?

...which is a dead person that needs something from a living person.

...as they're not just echoes on repeat, you know, reliving some trauma,

more probable than, like, a demonic hunting or a poltergeist,

uh, which were never really human to begin with.

All I really care about resonated

from somewhere deep inside

but unwanted, out of body, foreign but familiar.

He'd made a promise, an oath, and yet his childhood pledge to her did not in any way

mention the meditation of long-distance running.

But saying it out loud was like the briefest break in the most vivid dream.

Like he wasn't even typing at his desk.

He was lying in bed, counting down the days

to when Mary was gone, and he was just dangling spider's prey,

fading to nothing. A one-hit writer

who, gun to his head, just wasn't feeling it

- right now.

The phone's ringing. -

Mom?

I'm at home... I'm with you, even if...

He wasn't a baby. He knew what was real and what was made up.

He had two months until he was contractually obliged to hand over a book.

That was definitely real.

His dream...

...his childhood promise to not only become a great writer

but a good man, protecting his mom no matter what...

Hi, Guy? It's Maurice at Hudson--

Message erased.

...that was real.

Last chance before he's sued by Brooks.

No!

Waiting tables, pumping gas, cleaning houses.

After every opportunity...

- ...to find something. - Guy, it's Susan

at Brooks Publishing again.

I wanna see where you're at, and we can take it from there.

This, this is the fourth time I'm calling.

In a seemingly literal attempt to outrun his problems that day,

Guy's dreams crept over into reality

when he saw that foreign red car

- and nearly got his head blown off. -

You okay?

He broke his mom's favorite sunglasses.

- You okay? - Blinded with red rage, Guy

- threw Marty's gun at a tree. - Thought you were a duck.

...Martin Cline,

- famous writer Martin Cline.

By some divine providence, it was a minor graze.

Of course I'm gonna shoot

the first writer I see around here.

Yeah, I, I know Lost Child.

The softback just got to the library a couple of months ago.

I was just talking about it with a friend last week.

That's so funny.

Ah.

Look at that.

Fire it again, it'd take your jaw right off.

Jesus.

- Mmm. - Yeah.

Lost Child...

...it's a little young.

You're... too kind.

I said I liked it. What the hell do you want from me?

It's your first book, isn't it?

- Yes, it is. - Well that's great, man.

That's great.

First one's almost as hard as the second.

Mmm.

Hmm?

Uh, yeah, um, but after this one,

I should get back to work.

When I stop, I stop for the day.

But when I was your age,

I was terrified if I ever did, it'd be for good.

- Yeah, I know that feeling. - I'm sure you do.

Is this all right?

Uh, yeah, that's great. Thank you.

Great.

How long you been here?

Uh, forever.

I came for a retreat a million years ago, and I never left.

- That good, huh? - Well, you could say that.

If I'd stayed in the city, I never would have got sick

of drinking wine and chasing girls.

That stopped when you got here?

Yeah.

There was that déjà vu again.

Like something was about to happen.

- I'm sorry. What? - I didn't say anything.

Thank you.

Well, my advice to you

would be to get away from paradise on the sooner side.

It can be a source of great inspiration,

but at a sizable cost.

You get the solitude to focus within, but...

...there's not a lot else to look at.

I mean, there's the view, the town.

The last guy with a fresh perspective here was Melville.

- Right? - Right.

Um, right now

I gotta knock this out or else I'm gonna be...

stuck.

Oh.

So...

...Guy...

...do you mind if I ask you a personal question?

I only ask because you're either pretty tough

or pretty imaginative.

Lost Child...

...fact or fiction?

A gift from the gods...

His mortal lover, the Goddess Aurora,

placed his undying body in a room and sealed the door,

where he faded to nothing but a voice

that cried to be freed from its eternal pledge.

"Please," it said. "Please, please, please, please."

- I don't know this one. - That, of course, is from island local

- Martin Cline's first novel, Book of Generations. - No?

...three kinds of paranormal events.

There is the demonic, which is a nonhuman...

There you go. Right up here on the right. About 100 feet.

...human intelligent, which is a dead person...

- Thanks for the ride. - Don't mention it.

The wolves come out this time of night.

Sorry I almost took your head off. - You too.

Hey, tell Mark I said "hi" and "thanks" next time you talk to him.

What do you mean?

Mark Brooks.

You know, the publisher. Your publisher, right? I--

He set me up with this place to stay here.

- Oh. - He said you talk every day.

Uh, I'm sorry. I thought you knew I was here with the residency.

Yeah.

Yeah. Okay. Well, no need to say "hi."

It's just an expression. Um...

Well, good night.

Good night.

Hey, Susan. Guy.

Um, just, uh, sorry we keep missing each other.

It's just been a crazy,

productive, uh, couple of days.

And, um, also, um, call me any time.

Uh, phone service is a nightmare here,

but, um, would love to catch up.

And, um, yeah, look forward to talkin'.

- Okay. Bye-bye. - Baby, is that you?

- How long are we-- - Next message.

What's happening? Is that--

Message erased.

Oh, damn.

Imaginative.

I don't understand why you can't.

Lost Child...

...a story.

- A new story and he'd be free.

He'd be free from Guy Laury.

Hello?

Hello?

Wake up.

Wake up now.

Wake up before...

No bar.

Oh, my...

Oh!

There's more than your externalized demons and villains.

There's more to you than your personal story--

I need some air with my crazy mom and her haunted house.

Yeah, no, we're not-- not her house.

We don't have a house.

No, no. What's the word for that again?

- Well? - You're not flying tonight.

Sure I am.

Are you ready for that whiskey yet?

- What's going on? - How do you mean?

You know what I mean.

It's not just you.

So, how's the writing going?

You're not sure?

Might be onto something.

Maybe you should open yourself up to it...

...fully.

Mmm.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

So what's going on at the Madequecham residence?

What, is it haunted or something? - Yes.

Yes, it is.

I didn't ask you.

Look, I wouldn't overthink it,

when every other guy on this island has some story

about disturbances or unfinished business.

I mean, these guys aren't big children.

Half of them went to college, and yet all of them would swear

that they woke up in the middle of the night

and they saw a see-through person

standing in their doorway asking for something.

Something they felt cheated out of.

But, hell, you'd give anything to believe it, wouldn't you?

- What? - That there's more.

There she is. There's my sweetheart.

Or it's just symbolism. Can't escape your past.

- Jeff, the cigarette. - I got enough people pushing me around,

thank you very much.

Get the fuck off me, Jeff.

Let go! Let go! Let go! Let go! Let go! Let go! Let go!

You're kidding me.

Who's this guy? Is he your new boyfriend?

He looks gay.

You're a cliché right now.

Show you a cliché.

- Done with that? - Huh?

Nice.

That was a funny kinda stubborn.

Sorry.

I don't know why I did that.

Get out of my fucking face!

Just a story.

Just a story. Just a story.

One warm autumn day some time ago...

Just a story. Just a story.

...a hungry young writer was invited to leave

the distractions and seductions of the city.

Just a story. Just a story.

Just a story.

He wasn't alone.

Just a story.

Over the course of their season

under the same roof, though...

...they became collaborators.

Just a story. Just a story.

But who wants to share a name? Just a story.

Jesus, Mark. She just fell just now.

I, I don't, I don't know if she destroyed it or...

She thought that I'd just let her leave with everything

we made together and she'd leave me with...

Mark, she was gonna take it all away.

It's mine! Mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!

What's a story worth...

...as an alternative to truth?

His style changed dramatically after we worked through that.

Would the greatest story ever told be worth one life?

You think about it. You think about it.

But what about just one story?

You can have it, Guy.

But you gotta earn it.

Just a story. Just a story.

Just a story. Just a story.

Where'd he take you?

Baby, I neeeed...

Ow! Ow!

...you!

Baby, please don't leave me!

Mmm.

Didn't wanna do that!

Marty?

The good news is that there's more.

There's more than your perspective.

There's more than your ambition, your dreams, your desires.

There's more to you than what you want.

There's more to you...

Oh, hey, killer, um... - Hi. Hey.

...we're actually not opening for, like, another half hour,

- so come back later. - Okay. Is Lucy here?

I'm not gonna be open for another 30 minutes.

But you can jog a couple laps around the block if you want.

I'm...

There are other bars on this island, Guy. You know that, right?

Well, I can't say I've ever been woken to the first half

- of a manuscript in the body of an email. - I know.

- I don't know how it happened. - But I've been up with it ever since,

- and I'm impressed.

Departure fromLost Child,

but still has your voice.

- How do you mean? - Honey, I'm not here to fluff you up.

It's no secret that I've been having my doubts about you,

but I gotta say I'm very pleasantly surprised to be wrong.

Listen, I'm sorry.

- Are you still there? - Yes.

- Yes. - Listen, I wanna get back to reading this.

- Uh, um, Susan-- - And Guy...

...congratulations.

This is really something.

So there was rumor of...

...witches worshipping goddesses.

But that'll happen any time a Quaker spinster declines a... a rape.

Um...

- So no, thank you. Shh, shh. - Sorry. Sorry.

You know, in the, in the 1840s, whale oil was obsolete.

- Hmm. - Right? So they're just stuck.

- They missed the boat... - Yes.

...to the Industrial Age, so to speak. - Yeah, ghost-town.

Ghost-town, boom-town.

- Right. - Yeah.

- Yeah. - A newly-born culture

that dies because it can't rethink its livelihood.

If it's literal ghosts that you're interested in,

we actually have interviews with, um...

...you know, I, I guess that you would call them witnesses.

No. No.

Don't get too excited because it's actually

exactly the people that you think it would be.

- It's bonkers. Um, but... - Uh, I don't mind.

...I do have something, uh, you might like,

which is, um, the neighborhood where you're staying.

Oh, M-- Madequecham, the residency? Yeah.

Well, I was actually talking about the original inhabitants.

The residency that's, say, a tax loophole. - Guy.

- Oh, right. - Guy.

Guy. Guy.

That's Martin Cline, so that's something.

- Martin Cline. Guy. - I'm sorry.

Um, I missed, I missed that part.

- Martin Cline. - Oh, shit.

I'll stop you-- I, I'm gonna be late

for my lecture at the high school.

- Martin Cline. - Um, what's-- Sorry.

Uh, I give, um, lectures at the high school. - Uh-huh.

And I just realized I'm not gonna be able to get a coffee.

Uh, feel free to check anything out that you like.

- Sue will help you out. - Okay.

And technically speaking, there are three kinds of paranormal events.

There is the demonic, which is a nonhuman, haunting immortal.

There is the human intelligent, which is a dead person that needs something

- from a living person. - He knew what happened.

- I couldn't scream. - Guess I knew it. It hadn't--

No, no. ...for dominance,

like a nonhuman or demonic haunting.

All I wanted was just acknowledgment.

And the attacks stopped.

And Barbara's toys started to show up all over the place.

New ones too.

I would have done a whole lot more for that nightmare to stop.

As far as Guy could see, there were two options.

He was being contacted from beyond a shallow grave...

...or he'd lost his mind without knowing it.

Which gave no explanation for where that book came from

and if he truly found it by accident.

- He didn't have to answer the call.

- It wasn't his problem. - I see how it can be a choice.

- You know, to follow something, to believe it-- - Now, he is probably

screwed no matter what. But now, he has a choice.

Our hero can cling to the sinking raft,

knowing exactly where it'll take him,

or he can follow Athena's advice,

abandoning every comfort and swimming blindly

- into the darkness. - I just need the contact information

for a maximum-care facility, 'cause I can't--

Of course, I can get you the number for a public ward--

No, no, no, no. Like, if, if money were not an issue.

And if he never looks back, he might have a chance

of eventually making it home again, right?

But any deal that we make with the gods

is inevitably Faustian.

We can kid ourselves,

but no one escapes death or taxes.

It's a path that's always traveled alone.

There were some cases, too, where a soul gets stuck.

You know, why do the, uh...

...uh, why, why do the murdered

and the unburied haunt us in living world?

Is it, uh, we, we won't let them go?

Yes.

Economics, culture.

This isn't just the death of a person.

It could be the death of a dream.

Retribution, it will somehow solve the problem.

Or by skirting it altogether,

we will somehow be able to keep this thing with us.

My point is that the Greeks understood ghosts

and gods exist because of our need for death.

Objectively speaking, of course.

Y-- Oh, yeah. Of course. - Yeah.

I am a white man with a typewriter. - Mmm.

- I speak objectively. - I-- No, I told you.

It's exactly the kind of people you'd expect. -

Gods, demons. I guess I didn't expect to stumble

on something so biblical.

Well, you were pulled in head first. - Mmm.

You know, the, um, the seclusion,

I don't know, it works for me.

I, um, just keep myself busy.

- Work more than one job. - Mmm.

When did you move here?

I'm from here, actually.

Coffin is one of the original names on the island.

Oh, yeah, I heard that.

Why'd you stick around?

Was it classics? Mmm.

No, um...

History? Folklore?

So, uh...

...was it something you saw...

...or something you heard?

Um, maybe something, uh, I did.

C-- I do, uh...

...I do see things.

That's true. From the book?

Um, yeah. Um... Yeah, that part.

Was there something new about this thing?

Mm...

Okay. It's something that--

Usually, they try to eat me.

Mm? And, uh, this one...

...it just seemed like it needed me for something.

Needed you for something good?

Martin Cline.

Martin Cline.

Martin Cline.

I need you, Guy.

I need you to set me free.

There were no missing persons.

It didn't add up.

Maybe Marty had no idea what Guy had found.

Maybe that was someone else who tried to hit him with their car that night.

I don't wanna leave.

Maybe he killed someone over a goddamn book.

Maybe...

...someone needed him...

...to make things right.

Hmm.

I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.

Look at that.

Fire it again, it'd take your jaw right off.

It's yours.

You wrote it.

You're a good guy.

Guy...

...you're a good guy.

How long have you been interviewing people?

Just a couple years back.

Thank you.

What could a human haunting need?

I mean, if the dead could want for things,

they'd see a futility in demanding,

what, revenge, a claim.

I imagine that they'd forget about that stuff.

And you teach mythology, right?

- Yep. - At the high school. Right, like--

So the people in the River Styx...

...they realize that everything is...

...temporary.

So...

Well, normally, we come back with quite a few notes,

but if we move on this on the sooner side,

we won't make Christmas but for sure MLK.

Maybe we'll shoot the next one for Christmas. -

Who are you and what have you done with my deadbeat client?

Uh, one second. Uh, Mark wants to say hi

and confirm the second advance.

It's gonna be a really exciting year for us.

- I can feel it. - Me too, Susan. Talk soon.

- Susan? - Uh, Mark, it's Guy.

- Uh, Susan connected us. - Who's this?

It's Guy Laury.

Guy. How the hell are you?

I'm good, man. I'm good.

Um, oh, this trip has been a blessing.

I can't thank you enough.

I got a place there.

Yeah, I know. Uh, that's where I am right now.

Yeah, well, where are you staying? Yeah, you know,

- the hostels in town, they're like bed and breakfast. - I'm, I--

- I'm at your house, Mark. - What's that?

I-- Mark, the, the residency.

I, I'm at your family's estate right now.

Susan?

- Susan! - Uh, h-- hey, Mark.

Madequecham residence. This is Guy. May I help you?

Get over yourself. Uh, what kind of wine do you like?

Um, uh, nothing too sweet.

Bone dry. Need anything else?

Uh, no.

- Okay. I'll see you soon. - Okay. Bye.

That some kind of joke?

- Hey. - Hey.

Uh...

...were we just talking?

No.

Um, sorry for popping in like this, but...

...I can't tell you how embarrassed I was

that you saw me that way the other day.

Oh, that's okay.

Really?

- Mm-hmm. - Well, anyway, I brought you this.

Oh, you didn't have to do that, man.

You making dinner?

Uh, yes, someone's coming over in a bit.

Oh, that's nice.

Kitchen's upstairs.

Oh, you found the best station.

Not a ton of choices.

- Would you like a glass? - Thanks.

- Hello? - Guy, I'm so sorry about Mark.

- I hope he didn't offend you. - I'm working from home.

Oh, no, um, not at all. Was he,

was he not the one who, who, pushed for this? - No, of course,

He's just been a little forgetful since he got back from vacation.

- I'm working from home. - But we're dealing with it.

Get that guy out of my house. - Well, I've been there, Susan.

- I understand. - I just don't want it to devalue the faith

we all have in this book. I mean, there's no telling

- what the reception will be, but we've got a good feeling... -

...and we're gonna push it hard, including Mark.

Well, that is fantastic.

Okay. Uh, call if you have any questions,

but we'll probably call you first.

Okay. Bye-bye.

Bye-bye.

You work with Susan much over there?

What are you doing?

I was just gonna make some crudités.

Would you like some?

Uh, sounds nice, actually. Thank you.

Why didn't you ever use it?

Were you saving it for a rainy day, or...

...or was she the one who hid it before she...

...fell?

She...

She made me.

I'm gonna go down.

What are you waiting for?

Hey, lady-killer!

What, are you gonna come back later?

Get him.

Get him.

Maybe you should call the cops!

I mean, you were gonna steal it first, right?

Did you write any of it?

Or did you just watch?

He'll be back. - Okay. See you soon then!

In a matter of seconds,

Guy saw his life fall into place.

Everything he'd ever wanted.

Marty just admitted to everything

it's needed to go for years.

He was practically a hero.

It fits.

And the next time Marty fires that gun,

it'll blow up in his face.

Um...

Don't do it.

So, um...

...Martin Cline.

Was it something he said...

...or something he did?

- It-- - Don't do it. Shut up.

- He did it. - What?

It's something that he did.

What?

What?

- Do you know him? - I, I don't have any idea

how he wrote those fucking books. - Books?

- Books! - The interactions that I've had with him

amount to knowing him, I, I don't know how he--

Julie, I didn't write this.

- She wrote it. - Who?

- Guy Laury? - A woman who was killed.

- Who was killed, Guy? - Looks like you're the next one up.

- From the residency. - Residency?

Guy, I told you, you just crashed here alone.

- There's no residency.

Well... that's not fair.

He wasn't... alone.

Guy, who is she?

- Tell me, who is she? - Saving a dead girl,

or it's all in your head?

Were those the only two options?

I forget.

For a moment...

...he was more creative than he'd ever dreamed.

Then he remembered the dream girl was in Marty's head too.

And just how fantastic my new book is.

- There is the demonic... - Guy?

...which is a nonhuman, haunting immortal.

- What did you do? - ...demons.

Okay. Demon

is such a human word.

It's really amazing what people will do

to fit the story they wanna hear.

Well, you know what they say about something that's too good to be true.

Looking for dominance, like a nonhuman or demonic haunting--

There was rumor of witches worshipping goddesses, but--

Technically speaking, there are three kinds of paranormal events.

There is the demonic,

- which is... - More like a trickster.

...demigod known for manipulating insecurity and greed.

They usually wanna be mistaken for the dead,

but they were never really human to begin with.

...they were never really human to begin with. - ...a lot of words

- for that. - ...Melpomene, the muse of tragic poetry...

- Poltergeist. - ...was also mother of the sirens.

No, okay. I'm lost.

Some invisible force brings him to the older you

and you try to kill each other? I'm not sure I follow this.

Sorry to put you through all this, Mark.

I should never have called you that night.

What night? What, what are you talking about?

She hid it, Mark.

I thought she'd destroyed it,

but she hid it for somebody to find.

Uh, sorry. Who hid what for who?

Don't lie to me, Mark. I know.

She made you

send him here to kill me.

- You comin'? - Who?

She was feeding me words,

but she's, she's not gone.

She's been feeding me words to write with every night.

And they're mine.

They're, they are mine.

But they-- She stopped...

...the day that he got here.

Jesus.

Are you drunk right now?

I mean, it's okay if you are,

but I would really appreciate it

if you didn't try doing something stupid out there.

There's never been a...

...pilot, so--

It's okay, uh, Mark.

Um... my mi--

my mind's a mess tonight.

I'm, I'm sorry I called you.

Uh...

Yeah, we'll talk soon.

It-- I'm sorry.

I think there's something...

...bigger going on.

Think you killed anyone.

What?

I'm not, um...

...um, an imaginative writer.

But Abandonment is a beautiful play.

And you wrote that before you got here.

Okay?

Okay. I am not a writer.

He wanted very badly to tell Marty

what would happen if he tried to shoot him.

With a few words, everything could go back to the way it was before.

I'd just find another replacement.

Is this real?

Do it.

Tell him.

What?

Please don't!

This'll be good.

I needed a change.

They always know.

I mean, how couldn't they?

But the song changes for them.

Some version of "I had to" till the end of...

...well, their time.

It's not a ghost story, but there is a local folklore

- about... - What's a story worth?

...uh, so Masha, like a lot of gods,

was, uh, kinda good,

but also horribly cruel.

...have you been interviewing people?

Just a couple years now.

You found anything worthwhile? Good or bad?

More importantly, it underlines the duality.

Tragic poetry, stories.

- Guy Laury? - Uh, great.

Weren't expecting it until next week.

Our files might be a little out of date, but, uh,

this isn't Mark Brooks's house anymore? - It's Guy Laury's house.

That being said, the petty gods of antiquity,

while vain, deceitful and cruel toward man,

would gather on occasion and celebrate his very existence.

They went with the one I recommended.

For it was only through Him

that they could taste life, by proxy.

There'd never be a place where they could fear pain or labor.

Very nice, Mary. And look who it's dedicated to.

They were cursed to an eternal leisure,

whose only solace was in imagining

what it must be like to fear death.

Mr. Laury, may I have your autograph?

Free at last.

I can only imagine they'd be more reluctant...

...if they understood their end of the deal.

That thing of theirs that gets smaller till it's just...

...gone.

Hope this one has the grace to leave when we're done.

I mean, he won't, but...

...I like him.

I should really be more open with people.