Chapter 14: What Big Teeth You Have
• The hunters have finally arrived.
As the fragile safety of this hidden town begins to unravel, Jason finds himself caught between powerful forces, forced into a dangerous negotiation where every word carries weight… and every misstep could be fatal. In a place governed by rituals, bargains, and absolute authority, survival is anything but guaranteed.
At the same time, Kat stands at a threshold. Tired of running and tired of being kept in the dark, she’s drawn deeper into the town’s secrets—and closer to answers about her power, her past, and the truth her father refuses to share.
But in a town shaped by occult forces, demonic influence, and watchful eyes, nothing is freely given.
Some doors are opened for you. And once you step through, there’s no turning back.
Signed in Blood is a supernatural horror podcast set in early 2000s America, blending religious horror, dark fantasy, occult thriller, witchcraft, demon bargains, possession, cult horror, and psychological suspense. Perfect for fans of small-town horror, paranormal fiction, serialized audio drama, and slow-burn supernatural thrillers.
CW: Supernatural Horror, Psychological Tension, Occult Themes, Violence, 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_00: 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.
She can still see the look in the little red-haired girl's
bright blue eyes right before her body and mind had been
hollowed out and taken by Princess Sophie.
She still hears the screams.
But she can't afford to stop or become distracted.
The nightmare scenario that she and her father have spent most
of her life running from has arrived at last.
She saw them for only a moment before locking eyes with Jason.
The pull of his energy had been so intense that it managed to
break through the furious haze that had enveloped her.
The air around her had practically crackled with the
amount of energy that was welling up inside of her.
Her vision had sharpened and narrowed as adrenaline flooded
her system, heart rate juking as she clenched her jaw.
If not for Jason, she would have rained blue hellfire down upon
their pursuers and reduced them to ash.
She still can.
There's still time.
From deep within, she can feel the pull of the magic, the heat
in her palms, the deep ache in her gut every time she has to
suppress her power.
The quiet whisper reminding her that she can put an end to all
of this right now, and maybe they can have a real Christmas
for once.
But something in her father's eyes had stopped her cold.
She'd never seen him this afraid, and it had shaken her.
He'd implored her to run, and in that moment she chose to trust
him.
She turned on her heel, hunching down as she scrambled quietly up
the stairs of the gallery toward the door.
The Jamies hadn't made it far enough into the room to where
they'd be able to see her yet, but they're steadily advancing
and might still be able to hear her if she isn't careful.
The townsfolk in the upper gallery hadn't spared her a
second glance when the doors below had exploded open, but had
scattered like billiard balls after a good break.
Strangely, though, there had been no panic or frightened
noises as they evacuated.
They'd moved with synchronized purpose despite the chaos.
Their counterparts below, shocked by the initial
explosion, now seemed to have composed themselves, closing
ranks around Jason and their princess.
Whatever insanity is about to take place, Kat will have to
trust that Jason knows what he's doing, even if he adamantly
resists letting her in on the plan.
She takes hold of the door handle, pushes it gently open,
and slips out.
She quietly peeks over the railing of the second floor and
down the stairway she'd entered from.
The townsfolk that had evacuated before her are assembling
themselves wordlessly in the antechamber below, looking ready
to cut off the sinister Anne Dexter's escape.
This means that the exit is also cut off to her, however, so she
scans the area for alternatives.
The hallway outside the upper gallery that she's standing in
extends in both directions, a row of offices on either side
with darkened windows.
She does a quick assessment, picks a direction, and sprints
as quietly as possible.
The courthouse and city hall are a conjoined building.
Odds are the next stairway will lead to another exit.
She turns a corner and stops dead.
As suspected, there's another stairway.
Placed in front of it, however, is a tasteful golden placard
with the name Catherine Argyle embossed in a black cursive
script with an arrow pointing down the stairs.
Nope, she says after a moment.
Nice try.
She runs past the sign and down the hall, which splits into a T.
Choosing the hallway on the right, she finds another
stairway and another sign.
This time it reads, What do you have to lose?
What do you have to give?
She scoffs in reply, before turning around and running down
the leftward path.
Another sign.
This one just says, answers, and is signed, Princess Sophie.
The dot over the eye has been replaced by a heart, and below
the signature there is an arrow pointing to a door.
This time Kat doesn't continue on.
She feels herself rooted to the spot as she weighs her options.
Why should I trust you?
Her words hang in the darkened hallway for a moment.
From behind her, she can still hear the slight, far-off murmur
of the crowd in the antechamber.
Then, slowly, a card slips out from under the door, as if
pushed by unseen fingers waiting just on the other side.
She approaches it with caution, eyes bouncing between it and the
door handle before crouching to pick it up.
You're tired of playing someone else's game, it reads.
I am too.
Let's talk.
She stares at the card for another moment before folding
and putting it in the pocket of her coat.
The princess isn't wrong.
She is tired, exhausted from running, of being kept in the
dark, of being told again and again how powerful she is, but
not having anything to do with that power.
Her father doesn't want her involved?
He's about twelve years too late.
Still, she hesitates.
She knows what he'd say, can hear his protests in the back of
her mind.
But is this all she can hope for?
Running, hiding, waiting for her dad to save them?
That can't possibly be all there is.
She takes a deep breath and reaches out to touch the handle
while bracing herself.
She swings the door open, hand raised in self-defense.
No monster lies in wait for her.
She sees only the landing to a stone spiral staircase leading
downward, illuminated by the fire of actual torches affixed
to the wall.
The whole scene would look right at home in a medieval castle,
not a small town municipal building.
She reaches out to touch the stone.
Warm.
Almost hot.
From below, the sweet, musky scent of incense wafts upward to
meet her.
Okay, she says.
Let's see what you got.
She begins the downward climb and the door shuts behind her
gently.
Once she's out of sight, the door remains for another moment
before the surrounding wall swallows it completely, leaving
the empty hallway behind her.
Jason locks eyes with the man in the suit whose wand is still
pointed straight at him.
The look of smug satisfaction he sees there is cloying, and he'd
give his left hand to be able to snuff it out.
From what he can see, the feeling is more than mutual.
Eight years, the man says, eight years of chasing your tired ass,
wading through bullshit.
Eight years extinguishing the corruption you left in your
wake, but we finally found you.
I missed the birth of my kid for you, you motherfucker.
That's too bad, Jason fires back, painfully aware of his
racing pulse.
His eyes flit to and fro between his pursuers.
The way the lady's looking at him, through him, even, is
unsettling.
I was there for mine.
Really changes you.
Wouldn't have missed it for anything.
The man's eyes widen into a glare as he steps forward, but
as he does so, the surrounding crowd takes a step closer in
response.
The woman in the blue dress places a hand on her companion's
shoulder, and slowly he lowers his wand.
My name is Ella Rose, she says, addressing the chamber.
And this is my partner, Jean Blackwood.
We serve as Dexter and Sinister for the Order of King James, and
we have come to apprehend the man and child you are harboring.
I trust that, per the agreement that this township has with our
organization, our business here will not be impeded.
You and your partner have intruded upon a very sacred,
very private ritual, Miss Rose.
Princess Sophie says as she takes a seat on the Lanan
throne, resting the cloth doll in her lap.
The tall, bearded man in the gray suit takes his place at her
right hand.
Our treaty is very clear about proper channels.
My guests were granted sanctuary.
As ruler of this kingdom, I will not go back on my word.
Jean scoffs.
This kingdom only exists because you all would be too much of a
pain in the ass to take care of in one go.
But don't go thinking that makes you untouchable.
The traitor Jason Argyll is a top priority for our order, and
getting in our way will come with consequences.
Oh, is that so?
Princess Sophie gestures, and the crowd takes another step
forward.
Before Gene has time to raise his wand, Ella steps in front of
him, hands raised slightly.
What my partner is trying to say, she continues, a slight
edge to her voice, is that our order has recognized your
sovereignty over this land, and we have chosen coexistence over
conflict.
While we do not condone what you do here, you've always kept your
own.
This man, she points to Jason, is not one of your own.
He is ours.
He has committed grave offenses against us, used knowledge
stolen from us for his own aims, and has ruined the lives of
civilians in the process.
I'm sure you can understand, Highness, that we will not allow
his crimes against us to stand.
Sophie smiles, placing a hand on the doll in her lap.
You're very pretty, she says, and you speak with respect,
something your boy could do with more of.
She grants Jean a stray, dismissive glance.
I think I like you, Miss Rose, but you don't get to come into
my house and take my toys.
Jason and his daughter became mine the moment they crossed my
border and asked for my help.
She raises a hand, and several of the townsfolk retrieve
handguns from holsters in their coats, pointing them at the pair
in perfect unison.
You are also my guests, she says as Ella's hand flies to her
locket.
So here's what we're going to do.
Jason and Catherine Argyle are welcome to stay and play with us
as long as they'd like.
You too are welcome to stay with us, but we'll be accompanied by
a chaperone while you are on my land.
If the Argyles leave, you may follow.
But if you should attack them while under my protection, I'm
afraid I'll have to punish you severely.
The handguns all cock at once.
At the same time, the walls of the immense chamber begin to
contract.
Jason's ears start to ring, the air pressure building around
them.
The townsfolk don't seem to notice, but it's plain to see
from their faces that the Jamies are experiencing the same
discomfort that he is.
And if you're thinking of trying your luck here, she continues, I
would think again.
You have power, but you're playing in my house.
It's been so long since I've had a game that didn't bore me, she
says as the tightening of the room increases and Jason's head
starts to ache.
I might get carried away, she finishes with a sacrine grin.
Ella stands tall, doing her best to hide the internal strain of
resisting the room's constriction.
You leave us no choice but to accept, she says with as much
grace as she can manage.
In an instant, the pressure of the room releases, its walls
returning to their original position.
Jason shakes his head slightly, his ears still picking up on the
phantom ringing.
Sophie clasps her hands together, her smile just as
brilliant.
Wonderful! Jillian, my darling?
Old Mrs.
Summers appears from the crowd, clearly over the moon to be of
use.
Yes, your Highness?
Our uninvited guests will be retiring for the evening.
Please take a sheriff's deputy and escort them to your inn.
See that they're given a warm meal, if you would be so kind.
Oh, it would be my pleasure, she beams from behind her
spectacles.
In an instant, the elderly woman is practically leading the
Jamies out of the courtroom by the arm, with a deputy bringing
up the rear.
As he's being led away, Jean calls over his shoulder.
I've spent almost a decade seeing what happens to anyone
who welcomes that man in.
You're gonna wish you'd handed him over.
If she hears him, she gives no sign.
With that sorted, Princess Sophie turns to the expectant
crowd of townsfolk.
My, what an exciting turn! Thank you, my loves, for your
patience.
I'm afraid I have some things I must attend to and prepare
before I join you for our midwinter celebration.
Please, everyone adjourn to the banquet hall and begin the
festivities.
I'll be along as soon as I can.
Murmurs of disappointment ripple through the crowd, interspersed
with the excited chatter of hungry teenagers.
Slowly they begin to file out of the exits.
Sophie turns to Jason, gesturing with her eyes toward the judge's
chambers.
He nods and follows as she leads the way.
He can feel the glare of the bearded man as he walks closely
behind them.
The door to the chamber swings open of its own accord.
Princess Sophie practically skips through the doorway, with
Jason close behind.
As the bearded man enters and begins closing the door behind
him, Sophie turns to speak.
Thank you, Bert.
I'd like a word with the Argonaut in private.
Bert frowns.
But, Your Highness, are you sure that's a good idea?
This man poses no threat to me.
She finishes for him.
Your concern is sweet, darling, but I'll be okay.
Go and take your daughter home.
Several emotions wash across Bert's face at once.
Hurt, anger, betrayal, grief.
He'd left the body of his daughter, who up until a few
minutes ago had been the vessel of Princess Sophie, lying beside
the Lannin stone seat as he'd come trotting behind his
mistress like a loyal dog.
Meanwhile, her flesh is growing colder by the minute as she
becomes an afterthought.
Jason digs the nails of his fingers into his palm as he
makes a fist, then does his best to unclench and breathe.
He's nowhere close to being out of the woods.
Bert looks like he's about to protest again, but a sharp look
from the little red-haired girl kills the words in his chest
before they can be set free.
He leaves, closing the door behind him.
Jason glances around the chamber and is surprised to find that it
looks like a regular study.
There are built-in shelves with hundreds of finely bound books
covering the walls, and a large, intricately crafted desk behind
which Princess Sophie has now taken a seat.
She looks like a little girl who's wandered into a parent's
office.
Her newly stolen body is dressed much like Kat does.
Butterfly clips for her hair with a glittery camisole over a
t-shirt and flared jeans.
Soon all that will be replaced by Victorian dresses that match
the creepy antique doll that never leaves her person.
She gestures to the chair in front of the desk, and Jason
takes a seat.
Directly in front of him, on the desk, there sits an antique snow
globe, a miniaturized Ardent Hollow trapped within its glass
sphere.
Jason stares into it for a moment, studying the fine
details of the replica before speaking.
Your man doesn't seem too happy I'm here.
Bert's a sweetheart, she replies.
He's just a little jealous.
Now that I'm no longer dwelling in his daughter's body, he's
afraid of being replaced.
As if that's the worst thing that could possibly happen.
Jason nods.
You've done quite a number on these people.
She lets out a bitter laugh that clashes with her sugary
demeanor.
I've done what I had to do, Argonaut.
No more and no less.
I've been a prisoner here for almost 200 years, forced to
coddle and enrich my jailers and their descendants the entire
time.
I'd like to see you do better.
He leans back, hands held up like she's drawn a pistol on
him.
It's just a unique arrangement.
Not many demons have found themselves in a situation like
this.
Well, from what I hear, she replies, when it comes to unique
arrangements, I'm not the only one who bit off more than they
can chew.
She locks eyes with him.
Show me.
He sighs and pulls back his denim jacket to reveal the
dagger resting against his heart.
She giggles.
Oh my! So it is true.
I thought it had to be an exaggeration, someone
embellishing your legend.
But you went and made a deal with the big bad wolf of hell
himself.
She gasps theatrically, placing a hand in front of her mouth
before leaning in.
Does Little Red Riding Hood know?
She doesn't need to, because it's never gonna happen.
My patron isn't going to get what he wants.
She grins, her stolen sapphire eyes fixed on him.
And I think the only reason you're willing to say that out
loud is because he's not able to hear you.
Such a naughty boy.
Like you said, Highness, I've done what I had to do.
She leans back in her chair, her hand stroking the doll's head.
I'm sure you have.
Now cut the shit, Jason.
Out there you alluded to helping me.
Are you all talk or can you do it?
Can you send me home free from these ignorant shit kickers?
Jason leans in, resting his elbows on the desk.
Well, if we're using proper names, Lamashtu, then yes, I
believe I can.
I know I can.
There isn't another pilgrim on the eastward path who knows the
language of these bargains like I do.
If there's a way out of the deal you made, then I'll find it.
It seems to me, she says thoughtfully, that you've
already delivered me a way out.
With a vessel like Catherine, and the power she can command.
The world outside this damned village would be my own personal
candy land.
That's not going to happen, he says, his voice reflecting cold
iron.
Oh no, she says.
Is that because you can't stand to lose her?
Or because she's been promised elsewhere?
He feels a flush of anger and struggles to keep his voice
steady.
You think I'm like your lapdog out there?
I think that a man in grief will do whatever it takes to escape
that feeling, even if he has to sacrifice what he has left to do
it.
She gestures to herself.
I'm living proof.
My daughter is not a bargaining chip, Highness.
And as strong as you are, even you don't know the consequences
of breaking a deal like this by force.
What I'm offering is a chance at freedom that won't risk tearing
yourself apart.
Right, and you ask nothing in return.
I'm just repaying your generosity for the sanctuary
you're providing for Kat and I.
I don't expect anything for free.
She giggles at this, and he feels a wave of ice cascade down
his spine.
You know, it never fails.
Even though you're a player, cunning, experienced,
understands enough to know when you're outmatched.
You see the doll, the sweet cherub face, and you become like
every other mortal and act like you're dealing with a child.
I'm thousands of years old, Argonaut.
Don't play me like I don't know there's something you're after
here.
I want my daughter to be able to grow up in one place without
having to look over her shoulder.
I'd do anything to make that happen.
You really would, wouldn't you?
No matter how many bodies you leave behind you.
The gleam in her eyes is sickening.
She must see something in his face because she reaches out
almost as if to comfort him.
No, it's okay.
I understand, I do.
It's intoxicating, the feeling of dressing up all the nasty
darkness inside of you in an illusion of innocence or
nobility.
You can cause endless suffering to anyone who's foolish enough
to let you in, but it's okay, because no one else could
possibly know the real suffering of being a martyr, right?
For the first time in a long time, Jason is at a loss.
She studies him, waiting for a response, and after a moment
seems almost disappointed.
Hmm.
Nothing to say with that clever mouth?
Okay, then, I'll take us home.
Your daughter, who you thought you could conceal from me, is
currently a guest in my home.
You have three days to make good on your offer to free me of this
prison.
During those three days, you will have free reign of this
town and all of my resources.
If the townsfolk learn what you're trying to do, they will
kill you in order to keep me and the prosperity I provide them,
sure as the sun will rise.
If, after three days, you fail to deliver, then I will break
myself free using your daughter's power, and I'll make
you watch as I butcher and eat every last man, woman, and child
in this godforsaken dung heap while wearing her face.
She holds eye contact with him for an agonizing moment before
getting to her feet, doll in hand.
She flashes her saccharin at him once more, all signs of ancient
malice evaporating as her mask slips back on.
It's been so lovely chatting with you, Argonaut.
I have another playdate I simply can't miss, so I'll be leaving
now.
I trust you know the way out.
You seem like the type who always does.
With that, the wall of the chamber opens up like the jaws
of some eldritch beast to reveal a stone passageway.
Princess Sophie winks at him, then skips happily into the
passage with her doll as the walls close back behind her once
more.
Without thinking, Jason's hand shoots out and grabs the snow
globe off of the desk in front of him, hurling it at the
wood-paneled wall that the princess disappeared through.
It shatters instantly, shards of glass and miniature buildings
flying in all directions.
The liquid inside gushes down the side of the paneling to be
soaked up by the hungry, waiting carpet below.
Jason stares at the stain, unmoving.
It's some time before he's able to leave.
Return in two weeks, dear travelers, as the deadline to
Sophie's challenge looms and the true story of Ardent Hollow
comes to light.
This episode was written, performed, produced, and mixed
by Evan Okuna.
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 eyes on the clock, your words
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