Chapter 12: The Smiles are Free
A quiet town at the edge of nowhere offers refuge…but something isn’t right.
As Jason and Kat arrive in a place hidden from prying eyes, the pressure that’s been following them begins to lift, only to be replaced by something far more unsettling. Beneath the town’s warmth and small-town charm, every glance lingers a moment too long, and every smile hides a secret.
With nightfall approaching and a mysterious gathering on the horizon, Jason prepares to navigate dangerous new territory… while Kat begins to question whether staying hidden is the same as staying safe.
In Ardent Hollow, you’re always being watched.
And some doors aren’t meant to stay closed.
Signed in Blood is a supernatural horror podcast set in early 2000s America, blending religious horror, dark fantasy, occult thriller, witchcraft, demon bargains, possession, and psychological suspense. Perfect for fans of small-town horror, road trip terror, serialized audio drama, and slow-burn supernatural thrillers.
CW: Supernatural Horror, Psychological Tension, Religious Horror
Written, edited, produced, and performed by Evan O’Cuana
Intro: “Suspension” by Anna Dager & Hanna Ekström
Outro: “A Hundred Windows” by Back_Drop
Say Hi at evanocuana@gmail.com
If you enjoyed the episode, please follow, rate, and review — it helps the show reach more listeners.
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1 SPEAKER_01: Signed in blood is a ritual offering to the keeper of
stories per the terms of our pact.
Let all parties be aware these are tales of horror.
They may not be suitable for all audiences.
Listener discretion is advised.
Kat is jolted awake as the camry hits a small pothole, her eyes
shooting open in confusion and panic.
Jason curses from behind the wheel, then looks to his
daughter.
Rise and shine, kiddo.
Sorry for the rude awakening.
You okay?
She looks around.
It's still dark out, but in the east the sky is starting to turn
a lighter shade of violet.
I'm fine.
Weird dreams.
He nods.
Well, the timing works out even if the method could have been
better.
We're just about there.
Can you tell me where there is yet?
Almost.
I know I've been pretty quiet the last couple of days, and I'm
sorry about that.
I'll explain everything soon, I promise.
She turns to look back out of the passenger side window,
rolling her eyes as she does so but saying nothing.
She can extend him grace for keeping her in the dark, but she
doesn't have to be happy about it.
She briefly considers trying to grab her reading light and make
some headway in her book, but the remains of fragmented sleep
still cling to the edge of her awareness.
She settles for watching the countryside pass by, trees
jutting out of an ocean of fog as the road descends into a deep
valley.
Her tired eyes go in and out of focus, and for a moment she
reverts to the time-honored game of watching invisible monsters
run next to the car at blinding speed.
She used to love that game.
But nowadays the monsters are becoming too real and getting
too close.
She begins fiddling with the stone bracelet her father gave
her and finds it warm to the touch.
Almost hot.
Dad, she says.
Yeah, Kit Kat.
I don't.
Is this bracelet supposed to be warm?
Ah, perfect timing.
Take a look out the window.
You see that sign coming up?
She can.
Out of the encroaching fog, there stands a large wooden sign
suspended between two pillars of austere brick.
The sign is painted white, and in flowery gilded script it
reads, Welcome to Ardent Hollow.
Keep your eyes on it, but keep attention on that warmth.
Okay?
Three, two, and one.
With that, their car passes the sign by, and instantly the
stones on her wrist become cool.
She feels a slight dizziness as the pressure of the air around
them changes, as if they're touching down after a long
flight.
Her father visibly relaxes in the seat next to her.
What the Yeah, I thought as much, he says.
Someone's been trying to reach inside your head.
Three guesses as to who.
She shudders audibly.
Yeah, he says.
Me too.
I didn't know he could do that.
Like, from far away, I mean.
There's not a lot he can't do.
But lucky for us, one of those things is cross into another
demon's territory without an invite.
You mean we're afraid so.
Not a lot of good options, remember?
She pauses.
So if Stolis could reach me from a distance, why didn't he try
sooner?
He probably did.
But I haven't met a demon yet that could get past a ward set
by a Turner Witch.
Your Aunt Shanice isn't as strong as she used to be, but
she's still a powerhouse.
Now that we're away from her, the bracelet should keep your
mind shielded for the time being.
You got this in Denver, she says, her fingers tracing the
cool black stones.
When you gave it to me, you seemed different.
What happened to you?
He glances over at her.
I was just tired, Cat.
I'd been up most of the night.
So it's back to lying then.
Come on, Dad, she says, not bothering to hide her
frustration.
I thought you were gonna be honest with me.
Tell me the truth.
He sighs.
I said I'd tell you what I can, kiddo.
The bracelet belonged to a troubled man who was looking for
someone who didn't want to be found.
What did you do?
I tried to reason with him.
When he refused, I took the bracelet as payment for the
trouble.
She goes quiet for a second.
Is he still alive?
He tried to force the issue, Cat.
There wasn't much I could do for him after that.
The important part is I made it back to you and that we're safe
for now.
Are we really?
Well, we're not out of the woods just yet, but we're a bit better
off than a few minutes ago.
Dad.
Okay, okay.
We just crossed the border into the domain of a demon princess.
One who holds a grudge against Stolis and his faction.
He can see that we entered here and he can tell the order where
we've gone, but he can't see or spy on us in here.
But they can still follow us?
Yeah, they're definitely on our tail.
But he can't contact them here, and it'll be easier to dodge
them.
But what's next?
Next we get some real sleep.
I'm still working on the rest.
The Camry passes a small gas station, its electric sign
glowing dimly in the fog.
The main building is dark, its attendee probably still an hour
away from beginning their shift.
A smattering of houses drift by, followed by a grocery store.
So there's a demon here?
Yeah.
An old and very powerful one.
And we're trying to get her to help us.
She notices the tension creep back into his shoulders.
Yes and no.
I need to get close to her, but I need to keep you out of sight
as much as possible.
Shanice and I have an understanding.
Anyway, I figure you've had your fill of demons lately.
You didn't ask me.
Kat cuts in.
I want to meet her.
He looks at his daughter in surprise.
What?
If she hates Stolis, then I want to meet her.
Kat, that's a really bad idea.
Why?
She asks as they turn onto Main Street and pass Ardent Hollow's
post office.
You deal with them all the time, and I've gotten stronger since
last time.
I'm tired of being afraid.
Being afraid here is the right reaction, Jason says.
The princess isn't some imp or a wannabe power like Kavorah.
She's the real deal.
I can appreciate your trying to prove something here, but now
isn't the time.
She's out of our league, and we need to be smart if we're gonna
survive this.
Out of your league, maybe, she mutters.
What was that?
Nothing.
Right.
They enter the town square, a ring of two-story buildings
surrounding City Hall and its adjoining courthouse.
The shop windows are frosted lightly, the sidewalks dusted
with a recent snow.
Christmas wreaths hang from every flickering iron lamppost,
and bright lights are wrapped around the solemn pines that
stand sentry on the lawn of the courthouse.
Jason pulls the car to a slow stop, parking it in front of the
only business whose open sign is lit.
A small cornered diner.
I need you to do something for me, he says, pulling the keys
out of the ignition.
When we go in there, I need you to act sick.
She must not be hiding the look of confusion on her face very
well because he presses on.
Just trust me.
Keep your cap on low and your jacket zipped up.
Don't look at anyone in there for too long.
Lie down in the booth when you're not eating and don't
speak.
This is important.
I'm counting on you.
She grumbles, but at this point is more invested in food than
answers as her stomach begins to growl.
She exits the camry slowly, hamming it up as her eyes drift
to the window of a toy shop next door.
A brand new razor scooter is on display in the front window,
along with a sign stating Bratz dolls are here and will make the
perfect Christmas gift.
Somewhere in the cellar of her mind, she wonders what it must
be like for someone her age whose biggest concern is what
they'll get for Christmas next week.
The question stings, and she turns her head toward the
fluorescent glow of the diner instead.
They're greeted at the entrance by a kindly woman wearing an
apron, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.
The little golden name tag on the apron reads, Dawn, and just
below it there's a button that says, The smiles are free.
She pulls them a pair of menus and seats them in a booth next
to the front window.
Jason doesn't bother looking at them, ordering a Denver omelette
and coffee for himself and the short stack with eggs for Kat.
Oh, and can you bring lemon tea for my kid?
Coming down with the flu, I think.
Dawn nods, her compassionate gaze landing on Kat and
lingering for a moment, as if trying to make a diagnosis of
her own, before ducking back into the kitchen.
Kat leans toward the window, resting the side of her face
against the cool glass while scanning the restaurant.
Seated at the counter are two old men, each nursing his own
cup of coffee.
The squatter of the two wears an army surplus jacket and a cap
displaying his status as a Korean War veteran.
The taller one is rail thin, his red flannel shirt tucked neatly
into his faded jeans as he ashes his cigarette in a nearby tray.
They'd both been in deep discussion when Jason and Kat
had entered, but they've since fallen silent.
Every now and again she sees them glance in her direction in
a way that makes her skin crawl.
Being a black child with a white father traveling through the
Midwest, she's grown accustomed to the stares of certain old
folks.
She can't put her finger on it, but this feels different.
Ugly in a way she doesn't have words for.
Dad, she whispers, I know.
Don't look at them.
Focus on me and keep your head down.
He whispers back, his hand rubbing his chin as if he's
assessing his morning stubble.
Pretend you're nodding off.
She tries, closing her eyes in such a way that leaves just a
small crack through which she watches the men staring at her.
Slowly they both raise their respective mugs to their lips in
unison, their eyes lingering just a moment longer before
returning to their conversation, this time in hushed tones.
Their meal comes after several more minutes pass, and they eat
in silence.
She takes slower bites, taking sips of the tea in between.
It's hot and burns her tongue slightly, so she doesn't have to
try too hard to appear like she's in pain.
As she eats, she can feel another set of eyes watching
her.
She glances around every now and again to see if she can spot her
observer, but the men now seem to be purposefully ignoring her,
and Dawn is nowhere to be seen.
No face is peeking from the order window leading into the
kitchen, and the only sound she can hear aside from the scraping
of cutlery on her father's plate is a persistent ticking.
It's another few minutes before she finds what she's looking
for.
On the far wall above the register, there rests an old
clock nestled in the belly of a grinning, cartoonish black cat
with wide eyes and a painted, toothy smile.
She'd seen such clocks before in other diners.
The tail would normally move in time with its slitted eyes
ticking back and forth in sync with the second hand.
But this clock is broken, the second hand frozen a few spaces
past the top of the hour.
The tail spasms slightly as it tries to bounce back and forth.
The eyes, however, are locked squarely on her.
She tells herself it's just a clock, that the damn thing is
just a hunk of metal and plastic.
But that doesn't make its stare any less intense, or its smile
any less hungry.
She feels an electric current run up her spine, the sort of
tingling one feels right before they have to bolt for safety or
fight for their lives.
Her fingers begin to shake, and she buries them in the pocket of
her coat.
She feels the magic within her rising unbidden, as if something
inside is responding to an alarm that only she can hear.
She looks to her father to find him staring back.
As if he can see through her, he shakes his head just once,
subtly.
The message is clear.
Stay calm.
Stay still.
Will there be anything else?
Kat jumps slightly at the sound of Dawn's voice.
She didn't notice the waitress' approach and quickly looks back
down to her plate to find it empty.
She doesn't remember finishing her meal.
Just the check, please, Jason says with a nervous grin.
Then, almost as an afterthought, Oh, and I was wondering if you
could help us.
We just drove in from out of town, and we're looking for the
Apple Tree Inn.
Dawn looks at him in surprise for a moment and then shines him
the most radiant smile.
A smile that lasts a second too long and reminds Kat of the
frozen clock on the wall.
And something else.
Pieces of a long-forgotten nature documentary playing on a
motel TV ages ago.
Something about how chimpanzees signal impending violence, not
with a growl or a scream, but with a smile so big you can see
every gleaming tooth.
Well, of course, Dawn says, her voice all sugar and sunshine.
You're actually not too far away.
SPEAKER_00: Just take Main Street a few more blocks east,
and you should find it on the right hand side.
If you like, I can phone Mrs.
Summers and let her know you're on the way.
SPEAKER_01: She's usually up around this hour.
I appreciate that.
Thank you, Jason replies, his face returning her smile in a
way that his eyes can't.
The check appears before he can pull out his wallet, and he
fishes for a moment before placing a few bills on the
table.
Kat gets up slowly and finds that aside from Dawn, they're
alone in the diner.
When did the old men leave?
She makes it to the door before turning, half expecting to see
them back on their stools, staring at her with dead eyes.
She feels Jason's hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her
forward as he opens the door out to the street.
At this point, she notices other shops have their lights on,
though no one seems to be on the square.
She glances once more at the toy store window, one of the last
remaining dark shops on the square.
Two Furby dolls stand in the corner of the display, their
beaks open as if having been caught mid-conversation, their
eyes following her the same way the old men's eyes had.
The same way the cat's eyes had.
She forces her gaze back to the car and climbs into the
passenger seat, doing her best not to slam the door behind her.
The building is a stately three-story Victorian, sitting
exactly where Dawn said it would, just a few blocks east of
Maine, at the foot of a large hill.
Kat vaguely remembers that this would be considered more of a
bed and breakfast than an actual hotel.
The scent of potpourri assaults her nose with notes of baked
apple and cinnamon as soon as she enters, and beneath these
she senses something else.
The smell of moldy paper.
She scans the lobby, looking for its source, but sees nothing but
framed pastoral paintings, plush velvet furniture, and a large
oaken reception desk protecting a door to another room.
A staircase leads to the upper levels, and black and white
family photographs follow each step leading up to a dark
hallway.
Jason walks up to the desk and rings a little bell lightly, its
chime breaking the silence of the room.
A door closes gently upstairs, but the lobby remains quiet as
the ring of the bell dissipates.
Kat looks at her father, notices the clenching of his jaw.
He's starting to grind his teeth again.
She's about to point it out when the door behind the reception
desk opens, and an elderly woman with snowy white hair comes out
to greet them.
Oh, hello there! She smiles at them from behind wire-rimmed
spectacles connected to a golden chain wrapped around her neck.
She pulls the yellow wool cardigan tighter around her bent
frame as she approaches the desk.
SPEAKER_00: My name is Jill Summers.
You must be the new guest Dawn phoned in about.
What can I do for you?
SPEAKER_01: Her eyes are at once cloudy and sharp, scanning every
inch of them before resting on Kat with keen interest.
Jason clears his throat, which pulls the old woman's focus.
We are travelers of the old road, pilgrims on the eastward
path that no man may return from.
We seek sanctuary in the name of the old packs and the new.
He's using the voice he uses during summonings, she realizes.
The voice that makes her think of dungeons, dragons, and bad
movies.
Mrs.
Summers takes a step back for a moment before leaning in, her
smile showing a row of sharp white teeth.
And does the traveler have proof of station?
Jason removes his denim jacket before rolling up the left
sleeve of his work shirt.
Kat watches Mrs.
Summers' eyes gravitate to the dagger strapped to her father's
chest, but the old woman says nothing.
Jason holds out his right hand expectantly, palm up with
fingers extended.
Do you mind?
He asks.
Not at all, comes the answer as Mrs.
Summers reaches into the drawer.
Drawer of the reception desk and pulls out a long golden pin.
With a fluid, blinding movement, she whips her hand out, pricking
Jason's finger and eliciting a wince.
Kat almost screams but manages to twist herself into a coughing
fit at Jason's pleading glance.
Slowly, her father lifts his finger above the exposed flesh
of his bare forearm, and a single drop of blood hangs heavy
on the tip before splashing onto his skin.
As Kat looks on, the liquid begins to writhe and twist,
changing shape and darkening until it settles into the form
of a tattoo.
She can't make it out clearly, but it looks to her like
something between an apple and a skull.
Mrs.
Summers nods, apparently satisfied, and Jason rolls his
sleeve back down.
We're being hunted by operatives of the enemy.
They shouldn't be too far behind.
We've come seeking sanctuary.
Will the princess hold court today?
Mrs.
Summers nods.
SPEAKER_00: You're in luck, young man.
You've arrived at a very opportune time.
SPEAKER_01: She leans in, whispering gleefully as if she's
a schoolgirl trading gossip.
Tonight there will be an ascension.
Jason nods uneasily, but tries his best to mimic her
enthusiasm.
I'd very much like to be in attendance and offer what
services I can to her highness.
SPEAKER_00: I'm sure we can arrange that, she says before
eyeing Kat.
SPEAKER_01: Will both of you be joining us this evening?
My daughter's caught the flu and needs to rest.
I'll present her to the court as soon as she feels better.
Mrs.
Summers clucks her tongue.
SPEAKER_00: Oh, that's no fun, is it?
Such a shame.
Well, if you like, I'd be happy to watch her while you attend
the ceremony and make your introductions.
I've nursed plenty of my own kids back to health.
We should have her back on track in no time.
Kat tries her best not to shudder.
SPEAKER_01: Thanks so much, Jason says, but she'll be fine
on her own.
In the meantime, I was wondering if you have any quarters
off-site for those seeking sanctuary.
While I don't doubt your security, our pursuers are
resourceful and your inn isn't too hard to find.
Mrs.
Summers laughs at this.
SPEAKER_00: Oh, don't you worry, dear.
We'll have eyes on them the second they come into town, just
like we did for you.
But if it would put your mind at ease, we do keep a small
apartment on the square for special guests.
SPEAKER_01: That would be fantastic.
She locks the back room, grabs her coat off of the chair behind
the desk, and beckons them out the door.
They follow her truck back to the town square, this time
parking on the side almost directly opposite the diner.
She leads them to a door in the space between a furniture
showroom and a boutique and ushers them through.
Atop a flight of stairs, they enter a small, furnished
apartment with two bedrooms and a kitchenette.
SPEAKER_00: This won't be as cozy as the inn, I'm afraid.
But you're welcome to stay here while you're in town, Mrs.
SPEAKER_01: Summers says as she unclips a key from the ring and
hands it to Jason.
SPEAKER_00: And don't you worry, she says with a wink.
I have a few spares in case you lose that one.
You can never be too careful, you know.
Then again, folks around here don't really lock their doors.
We look after each other.
And anyone who stays with us.
There are those teeth again.
Anyway, I'll let you both settle in.
The town is very much looking forward to meeting you tonight.
SPEAKER_01: They listen as she shuts the door behind her, and
they hear each step as she makes her way back downstairs and into
the winter morning.
Dad, Kat whispers.
SPEAKER_00: What the fuck?
SPEAKER_01: Cat! She's never dropped an F bomb before.
He clearly didn't think she had it in her.
She has bigger things to worry about.
What the hell is this place?
Why is everyone here looking at me like I'm lunch?
That's exactly why I can't bring you tonight.
Especially not tonight.
Jesus of all the days.
An ascension.
Yeah, what is that anyway?
Nothing you need to worry about.
Just stay inside and keep the doors locked.
Dad! she shouts.
Hey! He shouts back.
His eyes are wide but not in anger.
He's terrified.
He continues in a sharp whisper.
This isn't the time, okay, kiddo?
Just shut up and do as I say.
We are going to make it out of this, but I can't fight them and
you at the same time.
I love you.
I'm doing my best.
Just please, please help me out here.
She stares back at him, jaw clenched, furious.
He meets her eye, registers the betrayal he sees there, and his
face falls.
Kit Kat, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean let's let's just get some rest, okay?
He says, pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes.
She says nothing, walking into the bedroom and slamming the
door behind her.
The hours pass slowly.
After they both wake up from a nap, they make a trip to the
grocers they passed on the way into town for supplies.
Kat feels eyes following her in every aisle and doesn't say more
to her father than absolutely necessary.
At several points, she catches a glimpse of a girl, not much
older than she is, peering at her from behind magazine racks
and round corners.
It isn't the fact that the girl is staring that gives Kat the
creeps, but the fact that in her hands she clutches an old cloth
doll with beaded eyes and a red painted smile.
They have a late lunch in uneasy silence.
She spends the rest of the afternoon in her room, sometimes
burying herself in her book, sometimes performing the ball of
light spell while thinking of her mom and crying softly.
Jason knocks on her door not long after sunset.
She doesn't open it, and he doesn't either.
He reminds her to keep the door locked until he returns, and
that there's a microwave lasagna in the fridge if she gets
hungry.
She mutters something non-committal, and not long
afterward she hears the front door shut and lock.
She leaves the refuge of her room, walking to the large,
curtainless window in the living room overlooking the town
square.
She can see him crossing the street, heading to the
courthouse in the center.
A few straggling townsfolk glance his way as they all head
to the same place.
One turns back to look up at her, and she steps away from the
window.
She takes a deep breath, grabs her coat, and walks out the door
and into the night.
The lights of the apartment flicker once, twice, and then go
out entirely.
One that not everyone will walk away from.
Return in two weeks, dear travelers, to witness the glory
of ascension, and meet the princess who holds an entire
town and Jason and Kat's fates in her hands.
This episode was written, performed, produced, and mixed
by Evan O'Koonha.
Our intro music is by Anna Dagger and Hannah Ekstrom.
Outro music is by Backdrop.
You can find more at Signedandbloodcast.com.
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Until next time, keep your doors locked, your smile polite, and
your intentions signed in blood.