01x05 - Spirits in the Air

[bunniefuu]

Hidden away in
news reports from America's past

are tales so frightening
that they must be true.

I'm Robert Englund.

Join me on a journey

into the dark shadows
of our nation's history

to uncover a trilogy of stories
as terrifying as they are real.

A greedy undertaker...

McGovern...

...faces the wrath of the dead.

Who's there?

...a farmer battles
a devilish curse...

Show yourself!

...and a couple's dream home
hides a dark secret.

Brace yourself...

...for true terror.

I'm sure you've heard the old
saying "life is for the living,"

but truth be told,

that's a rule the dead have
a knack for defying.

Don't believe me?

Well, then, I've got
three stories to prove

there are spirits
playing all around us.

Let's begin with a tale
that's almost a century old,

when a conniving scoundrel
refused to heed

Death's "Do not disturb" sign.

The year is 1925.

The place -- Denver,
Colorado's Cheesman Park,

a sliver of paradise

in one of America's
fastest-growing cities.

The elderly man walking its
grounds is Edward P. McGovern.

He's lived in Denver
most of his life,

but it's been years since
his last visit to the park.

Room for one more?

Beautiful park.
Just beautiful.

Absolutely.

You look familiar, old man.

Do I?

You're Edward McGovern, right?

Quite right, friend.

I've been waiting for you.

Edward McGovern first
stepped foot on these grounds

some 30-odd years earlier.

At that time, it was
a neglected cemetery

called Mount Prospect.

Mount Prospect Cemetery
was built in 1858.

Over four decades, the cemetery
became a dumping ground

for Denver's undesirables --

paupers, criminals,
and the like --

a total of about 5,000 people.

No one took care of the place.

And, eventually, it became
a blemish on the city.

In 1893,
Denver's civic leaders

decide to replace
the neglected cemetery

with a dazzling, new park.

But that leaves the city
with a huge problem --

Every one of Mount Prospect's
5,000 bodies

has to be exhumed and relocated.

So, we starting tomorrow?

On schedule?

8:00 A.M.

Tell the mayor not to worry.

By trade,
McGovern is an undertaker.

Somehow, strings are pulled
at City Hall,

landing him the contract
to do the work.

According
to the contract,

McGovern is to be paid $1.90
for each unclaimed body

and $2 for each headstone.

The project offers
more than a decent payday.

But as McGovern's foreman,
John Daniels, learns,

His boss has an audacious plan
to strike it rich.

Mr. McGovern,
why all the baby coffins?

I don't understand.

Every stiff gets a new box.
It's in the contract.

But we don't have
any adult-sized coffins,

not a single one.

The tiny ones will do just fine.

I'm afraid I still
don't understand.

The contract makes no mention
of the size of the box.

McGovern hatches
an insanely corrupt

and horrible idea
to pad his profits.

The city is paying him
by the coffin, not the body.

Incredibly, he's ordered his
crew to dismember the corpses,

then divide the remains into
three separate infant coffins,

tripling his profits.

It's really quite simple.

The more coffins,
the bigger the payday.

This is like something out of
a Stephen King thriller.

The difference is
this isn't fiction.

Day after day,

McGovern's workers
methodically commit atrocities

on Mount Prospect's dead.

Not one of them dares
to speak a word of it.

These men
were desperate for jobs,

and this was a really good one

when you consider
what McGovern was paying them.

Nobody's gonna blow the whistle
on that kind of payday.

As for Denver's poor,
forgotten souls,

this is definitely not the way

they expected to spend
their eternity.

And unlike the workers,
their silence isn't guaranteed.

McGovern...

Who's there?

Very funny.

Sorry, sir, I couldn't resist.

Nice touch with the cigar, too.

What cigar?

That one.

I'm sorry, Mr. McGovern.
That -- That wasn't me.

You have a good night.

You've got a pretty colorful
past, McGovern.

I...

I didn't catch your name.

But you must remember me.

I, - I know you?

Quite right.

As an undertaker,

Edward McGovern has always

felt at home with the dead.

But among Mount Prospect's
restless souls,

he's making himself a target.

His mistake --

believing his victims
are powerless.

So, this guy wasn't
just chopping these bodies up.

McGovern is so greedy,
he thinks nothing

of stealing from these corpses
that he's already abusing.

You can't get a more brazen
than that.

While it's true
the dead make easy victims,

that doesn't mean
they have no objections.

McGovern...

Got some papers for you to sign.

Finally, on March 19, 1893,

McGovern's plan is exposed
to all of Denver,

thanks to the local paper,
The Republican.

And the desecrations
at Mount Prospect

are denounced as...

Once this hits the papers,
the city fires Edward McGovern.

The Mount Prospect
scandal is so devastating

that the city leaders
throw up their hands

and 2,000 bodies

are never relocated.

And as creepy as it sounds,

they decide to build
Cheesman Park...

...right on top of the graves.

The historical records
don't mention whether or not

McGovern expressed
any sense of guilt,

but we all have a conscience.

All those poor suckers...

...right below our feet.

Just ugly rumors.

Don't belive them.

You sure?

Care for a peanut?

Not going anywhere, McGovern!

N--

You die today, old man.

No man can escape his past.

You'll fit right in here,
McGovern.

McGovern...

The sins McGovern
committed in life

are sure to t*rture him...

in death.

To this day,

Cheesman Park
is said to be haunted.

Visitors speak of misty figures

wandering the grounds
in confusion.

So...

if you're considering a visit,

tread carefully,

and above all else,

never mentioned the name
"Edward McGovern."

Speaking of haunted real estate,

what if the ghosts are where

you live, work, sleep?

Let me tell you about
an old farm in Ohio.

What happened there

the Associated Press called
an incident that will be part

of the community's
legendary history.

The relationship between
a farmer and his land is sacred.

But everywhere we tread
has a past,

and sometimes --

sometimes, it is unholy.

Carl Logies moved
from Cleveland a year ago

to try his luck at farming

in Painesville.

Now, he has had a bit of luck.

All of it bad.

His livestock
is chronically ill

and every crop he plants

withers and dies.

Rumors have circulated for years

that the farm is cursed,

though no one can say why.

Carl Logies
doesn't believe in curses.

He's a no-nonsense kind of guy.

But he also doesn't understand
why his crops are failing

and his animals are dying.

One night, Carl was up late

trying to deal with all
of his overdue bills.

He knows that if he doesn't
turn a profit soon,

he's going to be forced
to sell like a half

a dozen owners before him.

There is no amount of
planning that can save Carl now.

Something much darker
than misfortune

is throwing its shadow here...

What is it, Tater?

...something that
can't be seen or heard.

In 1922,

an other worldly darkness

has descended
on Carl Logies' Ohio farm.

What is it, Tater?

Carl refuses to believe

that this land is cursed,

but something is going on
that he can't quite explain.

That night,
he was certain

something vanished
right before his eyes.

Carl is convinced that
he must have imagined it

because what else could it be?

Perhaps just a trick
of a tired mind.

Nothing a good night's sleep
cannot heal...

or so one would think.

So what should Carl believe
when morning delivers...

a more frightening disturbance?

There is no stopping
the uneasiness that descends

when we suspect
we're being watched,

but in darkness,

it sure knows how to expand.

Too many
strange things

are happening to Carl
for him to ignore,

and he can't quite shake
the ominous feeling

that something
is hovering over him.

In just a few hours,

he's gone from
not believing in curses

to being petrified about
what may happen next.

He'd sit there in bed,

afraid to go to sleep,

but trying to convince himself
that nothing was wrong.

Reality is, at this point,

he's one crazy incident away

from becoming totally unhinged.

Who are you?!

Show yourself!

There,
in his window,

is a face
Carl doesn't recognize,

but he's certain whoever it is

isn't alive.

I don't know
if this can get any creepier,

but the time this happened
was 9:35,

the exact time
his pencil went missing

the night before.

Models may be no match
against the supernatural...

though the brave never
surrender to fear...

You leave me alone!

...and our dear
friend Carl refuses

to fancy himself a coward.

Go back to hell!

Amazingly, Karl's dog
seems to see this thing, too.

There's lots of evidence

that canines can perceive
paranormal phenomenon.

They have extraordinary senses,
much sharper than a human's,

so it's entirely possible.

Based on
what he's experienced,

Karl is convinced
that the bad luck in his farm

is tied to that well.

If Karl is going to rid
the farm of his bad luck,

he's going to have to solve
the mystery of the well.

What motivates the dead

to haunt the living?

Carl is determined
to find out...

...no matter the cost.

Who are you?! Show yourself!

In 1922,
Ohio Farmer Carl Logies

is at the end of his rope.

All the stories he's heard

about his failing farm
being cursed...

appear true,

and the ghostly visitor
that is responsible

is tormenting him.

Karl
comes the realization

that the apparition of this man

becomes visible
at the same time --

9:35 p.m.

His destination...

it's always the same.

There's this phenomenon
called a ghost loop,

where a spirit is trying
to communicate something

about the end of their life,

something about their death,

and they are not going to stop

until they get
their message across.

Karl begins thinking

about the ghost
in a whole new way,

asking himself
why it might be doing this.

He's starting to wonder

if the ghost might be trying
to communicate with him.

No barrier
seems greater than that

between the living and the dead.

Yet, who can be certain

if a message has
never been passed?

Paul isn't sure
what he's going to accomplish

by cleaning out that old well,

but he senses he'll never
find peace unless he does.

Every puzzle
has a solution,

if we can find

the missing pieces.

Along with a watch,

Carl finds a ball cap
that matches the one

that was worn by the ghost
he has seen.

Many psychics say
we can see images

and feel emotions
from an object.

It's called psychometry.

You son of a...

Please, Mr. Levin.

I warned you.

I was only resting!

You're always resting.

I work hard for you!

Yeah.

- No!
- Not anymore!

Please, no!

Carl claims he saw a vision

of the man wearing the cap
being k*lled.

A disturbing vision can
be dismissed as a nightmare...

until the truth
stares us in the face.

After Carl alerts
the Painesville sheriff,

the whole sordid story
becomes clear.

The body in the well
is identified

as the farmer's former handyman,

Harry Lipenstick.

He worked for the farm's owner,

a guy named Frank Lerman.

When Lerman is tracked down,
he denies the charges,

but the evidence is overwhelming
and he's tried, convicted,

and imprisoned.

When Harris remains
are laid to rest

in a Painesville cemetery,

his spirit is never seen again.

After Harry is properly buried,

the curse on the farm

seems to lift.

The crops start to thrive

and Carl's troubles are over.

Memo to all who suspect

they live under the shadow
of a curse --

the remedy just might be
a partner from the great beyond.

A farm is as fitting
as any place

for an encounter
with a restless spirit,

but an even more chilling
ghost story occurred

within a deceptively
ordinary house.

In 1889, Massachusetts,

a family believe
they found their dream home,

but they had no idea

they were about to encounter

their worst nightmare.

I told you it was beautiful.

Spent a lot
of great summers here.

With great grandpa?

Yes.

When I was about your age.

And now it's ours.

Anne Berry
and her husband Charles

are from Ohio.

Their daughter's name is Mabel.

They've traveled 800 miles

to the home of Charles'
grandfather, Elijah.

Alright.

One quick picture
before we go in.

When Elijah Berry
died of pneumonia,

he left the house to Charles
and his family in his will.

Alright.
Looking good.

Ready?

Three, two, one.

I got it.

A month earlier,

Anne and Charles
were drowning in debt.

Inheriting Charles's
grandfather's home

seems to be the answer
to their prayers.

What's Poppa doing?

Being romantic.

Put me down.

Charles was
Elijah's only grandchild,

and he let him
not only his house,

but also $15,000 in cash.

Today that is an equivalent
to 400 grand,

which they have yet to collect.

Damn it.

What's wrong?

It's from the bank...
about the money.

Elijah withdrew it,
all of it, years ago.

Where is it?

Nobody knows.

But...
we need that money.

I know, I know.

You think I want
to sell this place.

We'll figure out something.

Mabel?

Moving brings
many surprises --

some you plan for,

others you never see coming.

which brings me
to poor Anne Berry.

There wasn't a way she could
have prepared herself...

for the surprises waiting
inside this house.

In 1889,

Anne Berry and her family
inherit a dream house.

But when they move in,

the dwelling proves

not quite welcoming

of its new tenants.

Charles?

Do you sense anything...

strange here?

What do you mean?

Never mind.

The press reported
that she saw an apparition

and uttered a shriek,
but her setting is so brief.

She wonders if she really
saw anything at all.

Financial fears,

coupled with the unfamiliar
space of a new home,

makes the Berry family's
first night less

than the restful fairy tale
they had imagined.

Charles?

Charles?

Charles?

Charles?

Charles!

Where were you?

I couldn't sleep.

I thought I heard something.

But there was nothing.

You need to come to bed.

Alright.

Our mind plays
unnerving games on us,

doesn't it?

Feelings which are supposed
to slip away with time.

Charles...
maybe Elijah didn't

trust the bank
to have the money.

Maybe it's here, in the house.

It can't be.

The bankers and lawyers
have already turned

the place upside down.

Certainly,
one would think the discovery

of Grandpa Elijah's
missing money could help

speed that along.

Maybe they didn't
look hard enough.

Anne made it her mission
to search every nook and cranny

in that house.

She would leave
nothing unturned.

And after a couple of hours,

she realized there was one door

she hadn't tried yet.

It's just a staircase.

However, in a house
that seems alive,

every step takes courage.

Anne discovers
an upstairs attic,

and in that room, she finds
a lot of dusty old collectibles,

stuff that looks like it
hasn't been touched in years.

You have to stop doing that.

Sorry.

I have to show you this.

This is the photograph I took
of you and Mabel

the other day.

In those moments

when you know for certain
you are alone,

have you ever been...

dead wrong.

The more
desperate the search,

the less likely
we find what we seek.

No truer words describe
the Berry family's quest

to find their lost inheritance.

Especially after
Charles and his wife

find reason to believe

they may be another
hunter's prize.

What good is a g*n
against a ghost?

The Berry family's
second night in the house

seems even longer
than the first.

One press account says...

It's a safe.

Elijah Berry hid his money
in a safe behind the very mirror

that was haunting Anne
since she arrived.

But that's not
the end of this story.

There's still that ghost
they must attend to.

Who are you?

Don't sh**t!
Please don't k*ll me!

What are you doing in my house?

It turns out that,
just before the Berrys moved in,

a vagrant broke into the house

and was living in it.

You're wearing
a dead man's clothes.

Not like he was
needin' 'em, then.

He stole one of Elijah Berry's
suits from the attic.

So, the crazy truth is,
that at least some

of the weird encounters
in the house have

a totally rational explanation.

But what
of the occurrences

with no earthly explanation?

Every strange thing
that happened

seemed to lead to one place,

the one location in the house

that held a great secret.

Consider the possibility

that the loved ones we bury

may be on a mission
to help us...

even if it means

scaring us to death.

Life is indeed for the living,

but every ghost has
a story to tell,

whether they're seeking revenge,

pleading for help,

or coming to our rescue.

You have my permission
to ponder that

until our next descent

into true terror.