The Town's Annual Festival Has a Dark Secret | Part 2
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"I think I'm going to get some air and walk around town for a bit," Dana says. "Also, I need to call my crew. They aren't answering my texts." "You're leaving?" Mrs. Holstetter asks, still staring at Dana's offered hand. "But I haven't finished the story, and I can't wait for you to do so," Dana says, and holds up her phone, giving it a little wiggle. "But business first, I'm afraid."

"Yes, of course," Mrs. Holstetter says, still staring at the hand. "Right, well, I'll see you later on," Dana says and lets her hand drop to her side. "Oh, before I go, is there anyone you would recommend I speak to while I'm out and about? Any shopkeepers or maybe other descendants of the original...dozen? They are all preparing for tonight," Mrs. Holstetter says. "You'll be introduced later."

"Yes, I am sure everyone is busy," Dana says and walks out of the sitting room. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Holstetter. This place is just so lovely." She pauses before going. "I asked the mayor earlier, but I'm still curious," Dana says. "Where are all the tourists? I thought there would be so many more, but from the looks of it, it's just me and my crew." "Then you will get all the attention," Mrs. Holstetter says.

Dana waits for more, but when the woman doesn't continue, Dana nods and leaves the inn, hurrying down the port steps and out onto the square. A horn blares and Dana jumps as a pickup truck comes to a screeching halt just inches from her. Dana realizes it's the same truck and driver that left earlier. Raising a hand in greeting, and also to say "hold on," Dana moves around to the driver's window and taps on it.

The man in coveralls only stares straight ahead. Dana taps again. The man keeps staring ahead. Dana taps a third time. Finally, with a long, heavy sigh, the man rolls the window down. But he doesn't look at Dana. "Help you?" the man asks. "Uh, yes. Um, you didn't happen to just come from the mines, did you?" Dana asks.

"Yup," the man replies. "Oh, good," Dana says. "Did you see my crew?" "Nope," the man says, then rolls the window back up and drives off. Dana frowns at the sight of the truck driving away and then turns and looks at the Phoenix Inn. Mrs. Holstetter is standing in the sitting room's bay window, staring at Dana. Dana waves. Mrs. Holstetter does not wave back.

After a moment, the older woman retreats into the shadows of the sitting room, lost from Dana's sight. "That's unsettling," Dana says. She lets out a long sigh of her own that rivals the truck driver's. Then she looks about the square, spies a couple walking a dog in the grass, and sets off after them. "Excuse me," Dana calls out. The couple continue walking as if she's not there. "Excuse me," Dana shouts.

For a brief moment, Dana believes the couple are about to pause. But instead, they increase their pace and hurry their dog walking right off the grass and over to a Kia parked at the curb. "Never mind then," Dana says. She places her hands on her hips and surveys the square again, giving it a real glance over which is something she hadn't yet bothered to do. That's why she'd sent Lockout with his rig. He could capture the feel of the place,

Dana was there to run things and look amazing once the cameras rolled on her. Dana says, spying an old man seated on a park bench just at the corner of the gazebo. The man is reading a thick old book while sipping from a styrofoam cup. She walks briskly through the grass to the old man, then stands right in front of him, blocking the sun and the light he's obviously using to read by. Help you with something, ma'am? He asks without looking up.

He takes another sip from his cup, then sets it down on the empty space on the bench, effectively blocking Dana from taking that seat. "I'm Dana Alighieri with WCKD," Dana says. "We're here to do a story on-" "I know why you're here," the old man says. "Is that so?" Dana responds. "I didn't catch your name." "I didn't throw it," the old man says. Then he marks the page he's on and closes the book.

He sets it in his lap, picks up his coffee cup, then slowly glances upward at Dana. "If you're gonna bother me, you might as well sit." "Thank you," Dana says and takes the invitation. Once settled next to the old man, she turns slightly to him and gives him her biggest smile. "Don't bother," the old man says and rolls his eyes. "You're a striking woman, but that's about it." "I'm unsure how to take that, mister," Dana responds.

"Malcolm Coles," the old man says. "Coles? Wait, like the town?" Dana asks, looking very surprised. "I thought this town was named after the mines." "It would be if they were coal mines," Coles says. "But they aren't." "I just assumed," Dana begins. "Which is always how tragedy starts," Coles says. "So let me put you out of your misery." "I'm sorry?" Dana replies, taking it back.

"The mystery of the minds," Coles says with a grin. He has a very slight mustache and it crinkles, the white hairs catching the sunlight. "Feldspar and mica, no coal." "Feldspar and mica?" Dana echoes and nods. "Good to know, thank you." "Feldspar is good for creativity," Coles says.

"Did you know Colesville has the most New York Times best-selling writers per capita of any New England town? Not to mention the Potters and the Glassblowers." Dana fumbles her phone out and swipes to the voice recorder. "Do you mind?" she asks. "Not at all," Coles says. "I'll repeat it for you." And he does. "What about Micah?" Dana asks. "Anything special there?" "Feelings of hope and stability," Coles says.

"We're a creative stable bunch here in Colesville." "I imagine you are," Dana says with a laugh. "So, and not to assume, I am guessing you are a descendant of the original Dozen?" "That I am," Coles says. "My family founded this town. There's been a Coles here ever since."

"Mrs. Holstetter was telling me a little about the original dozen," Dana says. "I thought she said coven at first, though. Isn't that funny?" "Easy mistake," Coles says. "Maybe," Dana says. "But I'm fairly good at hearing comprehension. Kinda have to be in my line of work." "So you think Mrs. Holstetter was talking about a coven, then?" Coles asks, and swivels on the bench so he's facing Dana directly.

"Covens usually mean witches. That's what you think Mrs. Holstetter was talking about?" "Like I said, it's funny," Dana said. "But I must have heard incorrectly." "Must have," Coles says. "Will you be joining us tonight for the festivities?" "Of course," Dana replies. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Coles looks around the square. "And where is your camera crew?" he asks.

They went to get footage of the mines and haven't come back yet, Dana says. She nods at her phone, which is still recording. And they aren't responding to my texts. Technology can be spotty in Colesville, Coles says. Then he abruptly stands up, moving much faster than Dana thought a man of his age can move. I'll see you at the festivities, Miss Allegary, Coles says. Good day.

"Oh, good day," Dana says as the man walks off. "And call me Dana, please." He raises a hand in acknowledgement, but doesn't look back. That's when Dana realizes he left his book. "Oh, Mr. Coles!" Dana calls out as she picks up the book, stands, and hurries to the man. She glances at the book and stops in her tracks. The leather is old, very old, and it has a feel to it, like some type of animal skin but much different.

There is no lettering on the cover or the spine, but there is a symbol. A symbol of a goat's head with four horns. Dana cracks open the book and is even more surprised. The pages are blank. "Thank you," Coles says, suddenly in front of Dana, his handout. "It's a family heirloom." "There's nothing in it," Dana says as she hands the book to Coles. "Oh, that is far from true, Miss Allegary," Coles says with a grin.

Then he turns on his heels and walks off, leaving Dana standing in the grass looking confused. Well, the reviews aren't wrong, Dana says to herself. This town really puts on the weird for Halloween.

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A blood-curdling scream rips across the square. Sorry! An amplified, squeaky voice says on a PA system. Grown-up! Dana shakes her head, looks around and just starts walking. She wiles the time away by window shopping in the many quaint shops the square hosts. A yarn store with intricately knitted sweaters and blankets and stuffed animals catches her eye. But when she tries the door, it rattles and won't budge. Locked.

The next shop is the same. And the next. Dana glances at her phone and sees it's already well past lunchtime. So she's unsure where everyone is. Then she notices two women, one young and one older, entering Millie's. She shrugs and walks over to the cafe. But when she tries the door, it's locked too. Dana presses her face against the glass and peers inside. No one is in there. Not even Millie or the other waitresses.

No sign of any of the cooks or busboys. The place is dark. "Um, okay," Dana says and moves on. She continues to walk the square, looking for a shop without a locked door, looking for anyone she can talk to. But the town appears to be deserted. Dana takes her phone out and tries to text Locke and Virgil, but she pauses when she sees the time. "6:30," she says out loud.

She looks up at the sky and her eyes go wide. The sun is already starting to set. "Things just got very interesting," Dana says. There's another blood-curdling scream. "Sorry, sorry!" The amplified, squeaky voice calls out again. Dana strides over to the gazebo. By the time she reaches it, the sun is almost set behind the buildings on the west side of the square. "Hello," Dana says as she climbs the gazebo steps.

A woman pops up from behind a podium and blinks at Dana. "Oh, hi there," she says. "You're the reporter lady." Dana is having a hard time figuring out the woman's age. The sunset is playing tricks with her eyes because each time she blinks, it's like the woman ages a decade or gets younger by two decades. "Yes, I'm, um, Dana Alighieri from WCKD," Dana says. "This may sound like a weird question,

"But where is everyone? How do you mean?" The woman replies. "What do you mean, how do I mean?" Dana responds. "None of the shops are open, and I thought I saw some women go into Millie's, but when I checked, it's closed too." "No, it's not," the woman says and points past Dana. "Millie's never closes." Dana begins to argue, but glances over her shoulder first. The sun is set, and the shops are all lit up for the night.

including Millie's. It's obvious the place is packed. Dana can clearly see people eating and enjoying themselves inside the cafe. "What the nuts?" she says. "What the nuts?" the woman echoes and laughs. "I like that. This town is something," Dana says. "It is, it is," the woman says. "And welcome. We've been looking forward to your visit."

"Wait, I remember. You're Carly Beaumont, the town…" Dana says as she turns back to the woman. No one is there. Dana is the only one standing in the gazebo. She spins in a circle, but there is no sign of the woman at all. "Cute trick," Dana says before leaving the gazebo. She heads directly for Millie's place. When she opens the door, the entire café goes silent and all eyes snap to her.

"Good evening," Dana says. There is no response. "Happy Halloween?" The silence stands for a count of five before everyone returns to their meals and their conversations. Dana shivers, then weaves past the tables to the mayor's booth. "Good evening, Miss Allegari," Mayor Gantry says as he stands up and gestures for her to take a seat. When she sits, he asks, "Did you have a good day today?" "I had a weird day today," Dana says.

Sundown sure comes fast to Colesville. It depends on the night, Mayor Gantry says. Millie walks over and sets a plate, mounted with blood sausages in front of the mayor. Then she looks at Dana. Yours will be right up, Millie says and leaves. But I haven't ordered anything, Dana says futilely as Millie disappears into the kitchen. Tradition, I'm afraid, Mayor Gantry says, as he spears a sausage and stuffs it in his mouth.

He waves the empty fork at the rest of the cafe. Dana turns around and can see that everyone is eating blood sausages. Every single person. "Of course," Dana says with a chuckle. "Tradition seems to be big here in Colesville." "That it is," Mayor Gantry says, and spears a second sausage. He stuffs that in his mouth, even though he isn't done with the first one. His cheeks bulge. "Here," Millie says, startling Dana.

A plate with a huge mound of blood sausages is placed in front of Dana. "Eat up!" "Eat up!" Mayor Gantry says around his mouth full of sausages. "Eat up!" Someone says from one of the tables. "Yes, eat up!" Someone else says. "Eat up!" The whole café cries out. Then everyone laughs and goes back to their business. Dana takes a deep breath, gives the mayor a weak smile, and spears her own sausage.

She takes a small bite and frowns. "Tastes different than this morning's," Dana says. "It's festival sausage," Mayor Gantry says. "Made just for tonight. Maybe even made just for you. Now, don't be shy. You have to eat them like a local." The mayor shoves another whole sausage in his mouth. He smiles and nods at Dana. "Go on, eat up," he says.

Dana puts the rest of the sausage into her mouth. "More, more!" Mayor Gantry says. Dana hesitates, then shoves another whole sausage into her mouth. The salty, iron taste of fresh blood floods over her tongue. Dana's impulse is to spit the sausage out, but instead spears one more and shoves that one in her mouth too. Then another, and another.

She is almost choking on sausage when the mayor pushes his empty plate aside and leans across the table. "Chew," he says. "There you go. Chew. Keep chewing." A quiet chant of "chew, chew, chew, chew" erupts from the other diners. Dana has no other choice but to chew, chew, chew, chew. Then she swallows, and the café begins to spin around her.

"What's happening?" Dana asks. "Did you... did you... drug me? In a way?" Mayor Gantry says and stands up. Hands grab Dana by her arms and shoulders and help her out of the booth. Her legs are wobbly, but the hands keep her from collapsing. "What is... in those?" Dana asks as she's led away from the booth.

"A little of this, a little of that," Millie says, suddenly by Dana's elbow. "Stop doing that," Dana says around a mouth that feels like it's full of cotton. "The real question is, who was in the sausages?" Millie says, then she's gone, replaced by a different woman. "I know you," Dana says to the woman. "Gazebo lady."

And that's where you're going right now, the woman says as the cafe door opens and Dana is guided out onto the square. The entire town is pitch black except for the torches that light up the gazebo. Dana's vision is hazy, but she can make out a dozen robed figures standing in a circle in the gazebo. Before she can blink, Dana finds herself in the center of the circle of robed figures.

Neat trick, Dana mutters, still being held upright by hands that she can't seem to find the owners of. The robed figures start to chant. Dana scrunches up her face. That's not Latin, she says. The sacrifice will be quiet. A voice calls out from under the hood of one of the robes. Hush now, Miss Allegory. Sorry, Mr. Coles, Dana says. She grins at being able to recognize the voice.

The chanting continues and continues. Unlike how the afternoon and evening disappeared around her, the chanting feels like an eternity to Dana. Then it stops. One of the robed figures stands in front of Dana. "You have been chosen to honor the one who lives below," the voice of Coles says. "Yours and your friends' sacrifices will ensure that the town of Colesville continues to prosper and thrive."

"We thank you for your gift to us." "We thank you for your gift to us." A chorus of voices echoes from out on the grass. Dana tries to swivel her head around to see the owners of the voices, but she finds she barely has the strength to keep her chin from hitting her chest. "For the one who lives below, you shall drink from the ancestor's chalice," Cole says.

A metal cup is placed to Dana's lips and tipped upward. Thick, warm, salty liquid fills Dana's mouth. Involuntarily, she swallows and swallows until the last drop is gone. "All shall be right," Coles calls out. "All shall be right," the town responds. Then the world around Dana goes dark, and she slips off into unconsciousness.

When she comes to, Dana is not very surprised at the fact she is chained to a rock wall. She blinks the sleep out of her eyes and studies her surroundings. A tunnel of sorts. Although it appears she is in a small alcove just off the tunnel. Directly outside the alcove stand several men. Even with the gloom, she has an idea of who they are. The smell gives it away. "The miners are zombies?" Dana asks as she looks right and then left.

To her right is Locke, chained up and looking bored. To her left is Virgil, asleep and snoring. "Yup," Locke says. "Some jerk from the town showed up and called them while we were in here. They do the changing to the walls.

They didn't try to eat you? Different zombies, Locke says. Not the undead kind. Ah, got it, Dana says. Where is everyone else? Just outside, Locke says. Someone keeps coming in to see if you're awake. They need me awake? Dana asks. They need us all awake, Locke says, and nods his head at Virgil. Give him a kick, will ya?

Dana is able to just stretch her leg out far enough to wrap Virgil's shin with her heel. He grunts and opens his eyes. Still here, he says, then closes his eyes. Boring. Wake up, dumbass. Locke snaps. Virgil's eyes open again and he frowns. Whatever, he says. Can we go yet? No, Dana says. They aren't finished with us.

Louise, the waitress from Millie's, comes hurrying down the tunnel then skids to a stop when she sees Dana. "They're awake!" she yells over her shoulder. "Hello, Louise," Dana says. "A woman picks up the tab on everyone's meals and ends up chained to the wall of a feldspar mine. Go figure, right?" "Mica," Locke says. "The feldspar mine is down the road." "But we're in the correct mine, yes?" Dana asks.

"I doubt they'd put chains in the wrong mine," Locke responds. "That'd be pretty stupid." Footsteps echo through the tunnel as the entire town, this time all dressed in robes, walks towards Dana and her crew. "Mayor, Mr. Coles, Mrs. Holstetter, Miss Beaumont," Dana says, recognizing some of the faces shadowed under the robes' hoods who lead the rest of the townsfolk. "I'm guessing the other eight of you are descendants of the original coven."

"You are not unintelligent," Coles says. "I would introduce you, but there is no need anymore." "Oh? And why's that?" Dana asks. "Because your time has come," Coles says. He raises his arms over his head. Everyone mimics the motion. "Hold up," Dana says. "Aren't you worried people will come looking for us?" Coles lowers his arms. The rest do the same.

Visitors ignore the warnings and are lost to the minds all the time here, Coles says. I doubt anyone will bat an eye if an intrepid reporter and her crew go missing. Intrepid reporter? You flatter me, Mr. Coles. Dana smiles and waves a manacled hand. All right, sorry to interrupt. Go ahead with your little thingy.

Kols pauses, then raises his arms once more as do the rest of the townsfolk. "The one who lives below," Kols calls out. "As the clock strikes midnight, we bring you your sacrifice on this holiest of Halimus." The town echoes his words, then everyone goes silent.

"Is that it?" Dana asks. "No more chanting?" "Your flippant attitude insults us and yourself, Miss Alighieri," Coles says. "It would be wise for you not to insult this holy moment." "Or what?" Dana asks. "You'll just not sacrifice us?" Locke snorts and tries to cover up his laugh by coughing. Coles lowers his hood and frowns at Dana.

Then he stares down into the darkness of the tunnel beyond. "What is happening?" Mayor Gantry whispers from Coles' left. "Why has the one who lives below not a beard?" "I am unsure," Coles says. "Try again," Mrs. Holsteader says. Coles raises his arms once more and repeats the same phrase as before. The townsfolk follow suit. Nothing happens.

"Have you tried turning it off then turning it back on?" Locke asks and laughs. "Be nice, Locke," Dana says. She shakes her wrists and the manacles and chains holding her to the wall rattle. "Could someone unlock these please?" she asks. "They are chafing my skin." "Malcolm?" Carly Beaumont asks. "This shouldn't be happening." "I know, I know." Coles snaps.

He produces the leather book out from under his robe and starts thumbing through it. Then he thumbs faster and faster until he grows frustrated and slams the book closed. "What's wrong?" Mrs. Holstetter asks. "It's blank," Coles says.

The townsfolk gasp. "Well, if you aren't going to do it for me," Dana says and yanks against the chains. The manacles snap free from her wrists and she pushes away from the tunnel wall. "Then I guess a lady has to do it for herself." The townsfolk gasp again. "Lock," Dana says. Locke snaps free of his chains, as does Virgil. The two men rub their wrists, then nod and smile at Dana as they push past the townsfolk.

The zombies move to stop them, but Dana snaps her fingers and the men collapse into heaps on the ground. Locke and Virgil walk out of the tunnel. No one tries to stop them. Everyone just stands there, stunned. "Now, if that book of yours did still work, there'd be a passage in there explaining everything," Dana says as she approaches Coles with her hand held out. "May I?" "I do not understand," Coles says.

He clutches the book to his chest. "How are you doing this?" "Well, unlike you all, I'll explain myself a little," Dana says and points at Coles. "But I need the book first, please." "Do not give it to her," Mrs. Holstetter says. "Oh, shut up, you old hag," Dana says and snaps her fingers again. The book flies from Coles' hands and into Dana's. The townsfolk erupt into gasps and whispers.

Shut it. Dana barks as she begins to thumb through the book herself. The townsfolk go silent. Ah, here we go. Dana says and taps the page she finally lands on. She looks up at the coven dozen and the townsfolk of Colesville standing behind them. Who here has heard of the Trilinium? No one responds. Not surprising. Dana says and returns her attention to the book.

Otherwise, we wouldn't be where we are right now, would we? - Good to go, boss. - Locke shouts from the other side of the crowd. People move aside as Locke walks through the crowd, his camera on his shoulder recording the events. Dana gives her hair a quick flip and straightens her clothes. Then she smiles bright as Locke reaches her. He racks the focus on the lens and gives her a thumbs up,

Hello, everyone, she says into the camera. This is Dana Eligary of WCKD, bringing you this once every 3,000 years event live. I hope all of you in the many levels below are watching closely, because this trillineum could be the best ever. She starts walking past the Coven Dozen as Locke reverses and backs his way through the townsfolk.

"As always, the Trilinium is brought to you by his darkness, the lord of all evil and bringer of chaos," Dana says. "So let's give thanks to our master, shall we?" Dana waits a beat before continuing. "Excellent," she says into the camera. "We are coming to you live just after midnight here on Holomis from the oh-so-quaint town of Colesville, a town founded by a coven of witches several hundred years ago.

Now, while this town has faithfully produced a sacrifice every year on Holomis, including the mayor's own wife from what I gather, his darkness has decided that their offerings have not been enough. "What?" Mrs. Halsteader snaps. "What did she just say? Quiet, bitch!" Dana yells and the tunnel shakes slightly, sending dust showering down on the townsfolk. "Did you not hear that this is live?" Dana pauses her journey through the crowd.

She turns slowly and points at Mrs. Holstetter. "I think you'll be the first to go," Dana says. "Excuse me?" Mrs. Holstetter responds with a snarl. "Malcolm! Malcolm, do something!" But before Coles can react, or anyone can react for that matter, a tendril of pure blackness shoots out from the tunnel's darkness and wraps around Mrs. Holstetter's waist.

Then she is gone, plucked into that darkness before she even has a chance to scream. "And the festivities have begun," Dana announces. The townsfolk panic and try to run, but Dana snaps her fingers once more and everyone freezes in place. "Hold on there, people. Let's not ruin his darknesses celebration," Dana says. "Now, who's next?"

Another tendril shoots out and plucks Millie into the depths of the mine. "You bitch!" Millie screams. "I'll miss her," Dana says. "She has sass." Dana shrugs and looks directly into the camera. "Or did?" More black tendrils shoot out and one by one the coven dozen are lost from sight until only Coles is left. "What are you?" Coles asks.

"Just a working girl serving her master," Dana says, "and keeping the denizens below entertained at the same time." "But we have been loyal," Kohl's pleads. "Loyalty has nothing to do with this," Dana says. "Of course you've been loyal. His darkness wouldn't choose disloyal subjects as the grand sacrifice for the Trilinium Holomus, now would he? Where's the power in that?"

"But he must under." Cole starts, but his words are lost as he is snatched away also. "And we're moving outside now," Dana says, and gestures for Locke to keep backing up. Once they reach the entrance to the mine, Dana snaps her fingers.

screams erupt from the mine, and the sound of footsteps echoes out towards Dana and Locke. "Oh, this is going to be wonderful, my friends," Dana says into the camera. "Let me step aside so you can watch all the fun." Dana does move aside, just as the first few townsfolk appear at the mine's entrance. But that's as far as they make it. Tendrils snatch and grab each of them. More townsfolk arrive, and more tendrils snatch and grab.

Snatch and grab. Snatch and grab. The process continues for several minutes until no more citizens of Colesville appear. Dana claps her hands and returns to face the camera. "What a spectacle," Dana says. "It always feels like it's over too soon. Don't you agree, friends?" An unearthly howl erupts from the mine, and Dana's eyes go wide with joy.

"But before we sign off, we have a special surprise for all of you," she announces. "The one, the only, he who lives below!" The entrance to the mine grows unnaturally black. Not just dark, but a pure black that represents the complete and total absence of all light. "The Aligary," a voice calls, rippling out from the mine like a wave of putrid gas and ick.

"He who lives below," Dana says. "I have to say, it is an honor to be in your presence." "The honor is mine, Alighieri," the voice responds. "I have waited since the dawn of time to be chosen for Holomis. I thank his darkness." "We all thank his darkness," Dana says. "Do you have any words of wisdom for our friends in Hell, he who lives below?" "Words of wisdom?" "He who lives below" asks.

I am sorry, Aligari, but I was not prepared for this occasion. I do hope his darkness and our friends in Hell understand. That's all right, Dana says. Just speak from the heart. There is a pause, then Dana, Locke, and he who lives below burst into laughter. It has been a long time, Aligari, he who lives below says. I have missed your wit.

"And I have missed your unquenchable thirst for bloody sacrifices," Dana says. "Now, just a couple of words will do." "Only a couple?" He who lives below asks. "Only a couple?" Dana says. A sound like mountains crashing into each other explodes from the mine, followed by a huge gust of wind, nearly knocking Dana and Locke off their feet. "Excuse me, I'm a little raspy," he who lives below says.

"A couple of words. Let me think for a moment." "I hate to remind you, but we are alive," Dana says. "Oh yes, right," He Who Lives Below responds. "Then here are my words: Be cruel." "Be cruel," Dana says in a satisfied, breathy voice. "Oh, He Who Lives Below, you never fail to deliver. Be cruel indeed."

"Thank you," He Who Lives Below says. "Okay, because I know our friends down there will be curious. What are you going to do now?" Dana asks. "You have devoured your worshippers, so what's next for He Who Lives Below?" "That is an excellent question, Elagari," He Who Lives Below says. "You know, I've lived out in the country for so long that I think maybe a change of scenery is in order.

"Oh, really?" Dana replies. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" "I am, I am," He Who Lives Below says. "I would like to rule the sewers of a major city. Does this land have a city that can accommodate me?" "Does it ever!" Dana exclaims. "Several, in fact. Are you thinking of staying up north here?" "I don't know," He Who Lives Below answers. "I have grown tired of the winters.

But then the despair it brings each season is so delicious. "Well, before you go all snowbird on us and move to Florida," Dana says, "I may have a suggestion for you." "What is the suggestion?" HeWhoLivesBelow asks. "We'd all like to know the answer to that, right friends?" Dana says into the camera with a laugh. "But seriously, while this city is still northern, I think you'll enjoy it immensely." "Please do tell," HeWhoLivesBelow says.

"New York City!" Dana announces. "The city that never sleeps!" "Never?" He who lives below asks. "Never!" Dana insists. "How delicious. I shall take your recommendation and move to the sewers of this New York City."

And there you have it, friends, Dana says into the camera. Another lovely conclusion to another Trilinium Holomus. I want to thank he who lives below. I want to thank my crew. And I, of course, want to thank all of you for watching. Dana raises her hands high into the air. By the blessing of his darkness, let us all be cruel, Dana cries. She holds her hand up for a few seconds until Locke says, And we're out.

"Excellent," Dana says and lowers her arms. She turns to the mine. "Thanks, He Who Lives Below. You did wonderful." "I'm just happy to have been chosen. Do you mind if I contact you later so we can talk more about this New York City?" "No need, no need," Dana says. "His darkness already has his things in motion. You can probably move there in a week or so." "Wonderful," He Who Lives Below says. The pure blackness recedes.

"See you in another three thousand years?" he asks as he drifts back down into the mine. "I hope so." Dana calls after him. Her phone chimes with an incoming text. "Looks like no rest for the weary," Dana says. "His darkness himself is sending us to Utah." "What's in Utah?" Locke asks. "An incest and cannibal cult is prepping for immolation," Dana says. "He wants before and after footage."

"Nothing live?" Locke asks. "Nope," Dana says. She looks around. "Where's Virgil? We need to hit the road." "Probably asleep in the van," Locke says. "I'll go wake his ass." "And tell him to plug in the correct route this time." Dana yells after him. "We can't be a day late, or we'll miss all the freaks setting themselves on fire!"