The dead have highways...
Running through the wastelands
behind our lives..
Bearing an endless traffic
of departing souls.
They can be herd through the broken
places of our world.
Through the cracks made by acts of cruelty
violence and depravity
they have sign posts these highways
and crossroads and intersections
and it is at these intersections
where the dead mingle
and sometimes spill over
into our world.
Hey, darling.
Are you okay?
Oh my god!
Im looking at him.
You sure you want to do this?
You want it in one... piece.
Your skin is leaving.
I'll be in touch.
Keep the change.
Ooh there, hang on a minute, it's okay.
Local hero in charge
How old are you Pussycat?
- I wouldn't tell.
- And neither will I!
Can't stop.
I've go to keep going.
Sure you do
Drink?
All the more for me.
- Where you headed friend?
- Away, away
As far away as I can go.
I think I can help with that.
I need to sleep.
I need to sleep.
Cumfy?
Where are we?
End of the line friend.
End of the line!
You see this collector calls me.
Probably sitting in some
stuffy room some where.
All kinds of disgusting
artifacts on the shelves like...
Pickled tongues,
plaster casts of rock stars dicks,
reptile fetuses in
formaldehyde jars.
But just like every collector...
This ones dying for the next thing!
And guess what the next,
thing is!
Your skin!
Weird hey?
But hey!, who am I to judge.
This one pays well.
And I might get a bonus,
if I can keep it all in one...
"Boat".
Please.
Please what?
Pass the salt?
Still...
I got to wonder!
Being a student of human nature and all.
How a beauty...
Like you!
Finds himself tied to a table
about to be flayed by a sociopath.
Jesus Christ son.
You are a book of blood.
Read it to me.
Why should I?
Well now...
Because...
Here's the deal.
We can do this nice
and slow and painful
or I can make it relatively quick.
Up to you.
- Quick
- Up to you.
The dead have highways.
Highways that lead to intersections.
And intersections that spill
into our world.
And if you find yourself at
one of those intersections,
you should stop and you should listen.
Because the dead have stories to tell.
Janie, Janie open the door.
Open the door now.
Here! Call the police.
Janie open the door!
Janie!
Open the door!
- Janie, Janie...
- Let me in. Please... stay back!
Captain!
Oh my God!
Paranormal.
Defined by Webster something
not scientifically... explainable.
We live in the realm of the paranormal.
If we'd only look...
If we'd only listen.
Remember...
The absence of proof does not
necessarilly prove the negative.
But it's a good start.
I'd take a seat anywhere Mr...
McNeal.
Simon McNeal.
I've just um... transferred
from Strath Clyde..
Okay. Welcome...
Simon McNeal.
You're welcome... Simon McNeal.
Why is it these places always look so...
Ordinary?
The owner moved out in a hurry
after his daughter was murdered.
Place has been on the market ever since.
It was built in the early 19 hundreds.
Then that guy. J.D Tollington...
bought the place during the depression.
Snake oil man...
Huh.
Claimed he could talk to the dead.
People came from all over
Europe to see him.
He used to entertain the rich
and famous right up stairs here...
Very spooky goings on apparently.
Story goes during one
session he was interrupted...
by some invisible hand
clasped over his mouth.
So cold it left an impression
on his skin like a mustache.
The proof is in his autopsy.
Suddenly he was thrown
against the wall so hard,
shards of his broken bones
pierced his lungs.
He choked on his own blood.
- You're making this up?
- It all happened right up here.
What ever did it to Tullington
scribbled a message on the closet doors.
In blood!
Dont mock us!
The same message they found
the night Janie got killed!
After you.
Nothing wrong with this picture.
According to her parents, Janie
was seriously into sex and death.
Used to bring her friends
up here for sances
Voodoo and blow jobs.
They grow up so fast these days.
Probably just a passing truck.
Steven!
Not my son!
How do you know any of this
stuff in your books is true?
How do you know
any of it is really true?
Well. If we close our minds to
the possibilities...
We'd never make any progress, would we?
But truth is relative.
I mean if you can see it...
and you can touch it,
then, how can we be sure?
Professor?
So... we are just supposed
to take all this in faith?
In this business we have
to start from a place of faith.
For a visiting professor, you're not
very curious about the local cuisine?
Want some?
- It helps with my insomnia.
- Your not getting laid enough!
I'm still available?
What do you think?
That house.
Perfect another book, right?
I suppose.
Excuse me... I was just struck
by a blinding burst of enthusiasm.
Half my fans think they're
reading fiction for Christs sake.
You mean it's not?
Reg. Ive been studying the
paranormal for almost ten years.
And I have never found anything
verifiable, anything indisputable.
Just a series of speculation
and presumption.
Every scientific breakthrough in
the history is based on nothing...
Speculation and presumption.
Ask Galileo, Newton, Darwin.
Wouldn't it be great...
If all that high tech equipment of
yours could finally prove something.
Can't prove anything
sitting in its box.
So... When do we move in?
McNeal. What are you doing
out in this weather?
- I'm just going home.
- Get in. I'll give you a lift.
What's wrong?
- You shouldnt be driving tonight.
- What?
Just be careful, professor.
His brother was killed in
a car accident.
Flipped his pickup into a ditch.
Went through the windscreen head first...
Snapped his neck.
Simon saw it happen.
What do you mean he saw it?
He walked into the kitchen one night.
Told his parents point blank. Steve is dead.
The truck crashed.
A moment later the police called.
When his parents got to the scene,
it was exactly as he described it.
- There's something about him Reg.
- Yeah. He's hopping great looking!
He knew I was going to have
that flat the other night...
I suppose a coincidence. There's
obvious an explanation?
He could be an asset
to our investigation...
Mr McNeal.
Got a moment?
It all started that night.
It just...
Went to my mind.
Then this journalist turned up
asking for an interview.
Eleven year old boy has
visions of his brothers death...
That's going to get people's
attention isnt it.
- How did it make you feel?
- Weird.
The people started treating me
like I was a celebrity.
- You didnt like the attention?
- No...
I guess...
I mean I was just a kid.
I had no idea what was going on.
And then people started
coming to the house.
Just wanted me to touched
them... and tell what I saw.
So... I did.
And... I saw things.
- And then people started to say I was a...
- Clairvoyant.
Are you...?
- You like old songs?
- Like this one?
Want to dance?
What...? Come on.
Come on, it's a nice song.
How did it feel?
- What?
- The first time it happened to you?
The first time.
When you were a girl
and the fountain sprayed blood.
And they found that little girl.
And it made you feel kind
of special... didnt it?
Simon there is a house near here.
Tollington Place.
Something terrible happened there,
something unexplained.
- A young girl was murdered.
- Right.
- You're writing another book.
- I'd like you to work with me.
You know I don't know about that.
A lot of people have said my family
exploited my brother's death.
I mean... My parents even
made money off it!
Something awful happened to that poor girl.
Dont you think her story
deserves to be told.
You have a gift, Simon.
Dont waste it.
Help me find out what
happened in that house.
Feel this a good idea?
Can't hurt.
But you dont know this kid. You do not
know what he wants out of all this.
I mean for all you know
he could just be...
Jesus! No one said nothing
about three flights of stairs.
This place is giving me
the hee bee gee bees.
My dick
- There's something on my back.
- Right... right.
Let's just dump this shit
and go for a pint!
I'm not kidding ya prick.
There's something on my back.
Fuck sake!
He just started freaking out.
He's winding you up!
Oh man! Why did you have to
go and do that?
- I had you man. I had you good.
- Fuck you!
Hi ya.
So?
This is where it all happened, isnt it?
Yeah.
Will you be okay up here
can I get you anything?
No! Not a soul.
I'll be fine... Thanks.
My room is right below yours,
so I'll hear you if you call.
Okay.
Good night.
- I sleep naked.
- Right!
Sssh... listen.
- I dont hear anything.
- Thats right.
I havent seen one fly,
one spider or an ant even.
Anywhere.
Do you?
It's like the place is being...
shunned...
I can't sleep either..
I think I might have a fever.
When I was a kid if I couldnt sleep...
My mother would make me warm milk.
Helps me sometimes...
when I masturbate.
Professor?
You all right?
You ah...
- You were crying.
- I... I'm fine Simon... I'm fine..
I was just having a dream.
Thats all..
You can close the door, Simon.
Come on, Reg.
Just say whats on your mind.
I just think you're being
unprofessional, that's all!
What's that supposed to mean?
I'm trained to do what I do...
You've got a PhD.
What's he bringing to the party?
If there is even a slightest chance he
can help us to open this house up...
- I'm going to encourage it...!
- Yeah!
Just be careful the house isnt
the only thing he opens up.
Look Reg... If you dont like the
way I'm approaching my research,
I'll get some one else to carry my wires.
Mary?
Jesus! Christ.!
Sorry...
I heard you call.
- Did you hear it?
- What?
The voices, the whispering.
The pounding on the floor.
Listen.
I've recorded it.
There's nothing there.
The fuck?
- Help!
- What's this Simon?
What's in there Reg?
Simon! Simon!
I can't get it open... Jesus, Reg!
Mary.
What the...?
Simon
- My God, Simon. What happened to you?
- I don't know.
- I don't know what happened.
- Ssh, dont try to talk now.
- I don't know what happened.
- Sssh, ssh.
[I'M DEATH]
[I serve Hell, and in
its turn, Hell serves me]
Better have a look at this
Well. That's something
you dont see every day.
- How did all that happen, Reg?
- I dont know.
But then again, I dont know how David
Copperfield makes elephants disappear.
Your saying it was just a trick.
Was the whispering you heard a trick?
Was this?
Get some rest.
What are you doing?
Whatever this is... should be
examined forensically.
You want to be sure. Right?
Where is he?
I don't know.
He was gone before I woke up.
I'm just curious to know how this
stuff got on those walls, Nigel.
You are the best forensics man I know.
Hey you want to flatter me?
Have dinner with me!
Your wife going to cook?
Right.
I'll get on to this today.
I'll let you know what I find.
Simon.
Let's see if Simon has any
tricks hidden in his bag.
Aspirin.
You're disappointed, Reg.
Hey, nothing to hide, right?
- Why dont we do a cavity search.
- You're joking.
Be my guest!
Go on...
All yours, wiseguy...
- What the hell was that?
- I don't know. I was in the bathroom...
When I came back my
equipment was freaking out...
My equipment is all messed up.
Something's interfering with it...
Wait.
That can't just be him...
Simon!
Simon are you all right?
Simon?
Simon...
Help me get him up!
Easy... Easy now
You'd better lie down.
Lie down over here...
It was real.
It was not like before.
They came... and they were here!
You've got to be fucking joking.
Reg!
We need to get the first aid kit.
Look Mary.
I hink we should get out of here...
- You've got to be kidding.
- We have got enough here.
Reg... We've never seen
anything like this before.
Thats what I mean.
This is...
I don't know what this is.
I think it's him...
He is the one making this happen.
He's our lightning rod.
Okay but I think we should leave
before we get fucking electrocuted.
I need a drink.
Mary...
- I have to tell you something.
- Ssssh.
- You need to rest.
- No.
I need to tell you, what's
really being going on here.
It's not what you think.
I understand, Simon.
- Do you want to stop?
- I can't.
Tonight was different.
What happened here, tonight...
It was a miracle.
You are the miracle.
You're the one that made it all happen.
You're the one I've been waiting for.
And Ill tell the world,
and everyone will believe.
I dont understand.
That isnt what happened.
There was something there.
Something was holding me, pushing me.
There was something there.
What are you looking at?
What is so important?
The fountain.
Reminds you of when you
were a girl, doesnt it?
I was ten.
There was a park across
the street from our house.
It had a fountain where we
used to play..
But it was old.
The water never worked.
Until one night, the sound...
woke me up.
It was spraying every where.
The air was drenched...
But not with water.
With blood.
I didnt know what was happening,
but it happened almost every night.
- And you didnt say anything..
- I was too afraid..
In the morning the fountain was always
completely.. dry like it never happened.
I was afraid that all
would think I was crazy.
A few weeks later, the city came
and tore out the fountain to
make way for a parking lot.
When they ripped up the ground
they found...
A ten year old girl
buried underneath.
She'd been...
tortured.
Her DNA linked her to a man
five doors down.
But by the time they found him, he'd
done the same thing to six more girls
If I'd only said something...
It wasnt your fault.
I need to get out of here for a while, Reg.
[You didnt listen]
Simon, what's wrong?
It only lasted until I was 13.
Then it just stopped.
When I started to believe them.
Maybe it never happened at all.
Maybe I never had... this gift.
But when I found you.
And it started again.
And it's more intense than ever.
And I dont want to lose that again.
I dont.
And I dont want to lose you.
I dont believe it. Look!
Yeah, let's go.
Excuse me!
Is this you, Mary Florescu?
- Yeah yeah, thats me.
- Would you sign it for me please?
Um... to the soul of Agnes Wishington.
This is my second copy of
'Visits in the Paranormal."
I read the other one so many times
the pages started falling out.
"I believe with all my heart...
that a parallel universe
co-exists with ours.
A landscape of souls,
we can not see...
Crying out with stories
that must be told.
That must never be forgotten... else
- ...that awful death...
- ...will have no meaning.
And guide is only backwards,
to more suffering."
Sorry, this is Simon McNeal. He's
working with me on one of my projects.
Oh I see.
- Then you have to sign it too.
- Of course...
Oh I'm so sorry, will
you excuse me a moment?
I'll just do it on the right.
Hello? Sorry my phone must
have been out of range.
What?
No, you're breaking up.
I didnt get that.
No, tell me now Nigel.
Are you sure?
- Could you sign that as well?
- Yeah, something to focus on.
- It was nice to meet you anyway.
- Thanks very much. Thank you.
Where the hell did you go?
So what? We going to play some
sort of game now?
Isnt that what we have
been doing all along?
Potassium nitrate.
Other wise known as...
Gunpowder.
Perfect for making marks on walls
spontaneously burst into flame.
Over here we have... protein.
Actually its a constituent of protein.
Its sulphur.
Good boy.
Sulphur and carbon.
Let's see...
Oh yeah, that makes charcoal.
Artists charcoal
Perfect for writing on walls.
Okay...
Alright so...
- I faked some stuff.
- the tyre on my car?
And the fountain
when I was a girl?
- How did you know about that?
- I do my homework.
I tried to tell you, I wanted to
explain, but you did not listen to me.
- You better leave.
- Listen.
Mary there is something going on
in this house. Alright!
The first time, up stairs, yeah.
I faked it...
But the second time, that was real.
That was something way beyond a few
pieces of charcoal.
Something way beyond what a guy in
a lab coat would ever tell you.
I thought you were smarter
than this, Simon.
I thought...
For a moment you were for real.
I dont want to lose you.
Nothing to hide right
All right so, I faked some stuff.
But the second time, that was real.
I tried to tell ya.
I wanted to explain to you, but you
would not listen to me.
Please stop!
That's how he got
the gunpowder in here.
Come on, there is more.
Watch him carefully.
- Regurgitation. Right out of Houdini.
- That's how he does it.
Watch his hand.
Took me a while to figure that one out.
Magnetic pulse transmitter.
I found it sewn in the
bottom of his mattress.
He totally fucked with my equipment.
I thought I saw him with
one of the movers.
He must have paid him
to put it there.
God knows what other tricks
he's got hidden around here.
I am sorry, I really wanted it to be true
Hey forget about it.
You werent being your self.
You're right, I wasnt.
I was weak, and he was...
Hot...
Little liar.
Sweet little liar.
He really thought he was special.
For what it worth, so did I...
For a minute there.
Just a minute.
How about we head over to Elliot's.
Get a pizza some veno Del e Casa
Forget about the phony little fraud.
I am not an fraud.
Get the fuck out of here.
You!
You dont understand!
And you never will!
Mary.
I'm supposed to be here.
This house, it wants me.
It has chosen me, me!
It is always about you, isnt it?
Always you!
Yes it's about me.
I told you that I had a gift,
and it was taken away.
But I've got it back now.
I've got it back and I'm not going
to let it get taken away again!
So I'm going to prove it to you.
I'm going to prove it once and for all!
You can stop now, Simon.
Oh please!
When I'm through you're going
to beg to write my story.
And it's going to be bigger than any
book you have ever written.
Do you know why?
Because it's all true!
Fine!
Then you write it!
Alright no tricks.
We can't just leave him here.
Why dont we call the cops
and tell them that there is a burglar.
Little bastard, at it again.
Jesus Christ...
You've got to hear this...
Oh my God!
we are in the middle of an intersection.
I understand now.
That is what this house is.
An intersection of the dead...
The dead have highways.
Highways leading to intersections..
Intersections that spill over
into our world
[Screeching]
Mary.
Mary.
He has lead us to a crossroads.
He is not the one doing this!
Its you.
Stop.
- Mary!
- Simon!
Mary.
Stop!
Mary.
Tell them you'll listen.
Listen to what?
You really dont understand, do you?
They've been waiting...
For someone to listen.
For someone to hear their stories.
I promise we will listen.
And I will tell your stories
to the world.
She had made them a promise.
A promise that I would have to keep.
And their stories kept coming.
Day after day...
Night after night.
She kept me locked
in the estate she bought...
With all the money she
made from her books.
Reading my skin.
Let us continue.
She said that I would be that book.
And she would be their translator.
Copying down their stories.
The stories they wrote on me.
But I couldnt take it anymore.
So I ran.
I ran and I ran...
But still they kept writing...
and they keep writing.
You know what?
You tell a good story, friend.
But sad to say I'm not moved
I dont feel... anything.
Be quick.
- Got the money?
- Of course.
Neatly done.
Suitable for framing.
The stories go on.
Who's there?
What the...
Help me!
The stories go on.
They bleed and bleed.
The dead have highways.
Only the living are lost.
But there are sign posts and bridges...
where the dead will stop
to tell you their stories.
Because the telling will
relieve them of the tale.
And it would best to listen.