West Coast Mysteries and Murders, season 2. (Patreon)

Scenes from the filming of the upcoming "West Coast Mysteries and Murder" season two, set to premiere in early 2022. Featuring the two hosts, Gabe Bennett and Cloe Perry, on-site in Los Diablos.

---

"Damn, this place is creepy." Bennett straightened to his full, rather impressive height, but he couldn't see over the interposing fence. 

"Try not to be so obvious about it." Perry looked around, shifting the heavy shoulder bag. "It's still light out. We don't want to get thrown out before we find a way in."

"Thrown out by who?" He gestured to the surrounding buildings, windows empty and black. "Nobody's here but us." And the eyes.

It was just graffiti. That's what he had told himself when they arrived. There was no reason he should have been so unnerved walking down the deserted streets as they approached their target. They had researched dozens of sites by now; he knew better than to be scared by rumors. He had been doing this for years. This wasn't like when they were filming the Void episode, where they knew there was a real risk of injury. No crazed copycat killers here. Nothing had happened at the Heartbreak site since it was closed to the public.

After the accidents...

"The cops make the rounds now and then, you know that." Perry had researched the site extensively, it was closed to the public, and signs at the entrance warned that trespassers would be prosecuted.

"Oh, come on, you know the LDPD. They'll take a drive around the perimeter, then leave. You really think they're gonna go out on foot and come in here?" The roads were blocked by massive cement blocks, ensuring that foot traffic was the only way to enter. Normally he would worry about any encounter with the law, but he doubted they ran the risk of that here.

"Better not to take any chances. I'd rather not get shot for trespassing." Perry unfolded the map, covered with notes. "Let's do a lap around the fence to see if there are any weak points and then find a place to set up."

"Fine. I'd feel better with a roof over my head. Less watched." Bennett tried to ignore the eyes painted on the surrounding buildings. Watching the site. Watching him. He resisted the urge to check his pill dispenser. He knew he had taken this morning's dose. It wouldn't run out until after nightfall. 

They quickly made their way around the fence, and Bennett tried to quiet his misgivings. The fence was standard issue building fence, wood, and steel, tall enough that he had to jump to reach the top. Normally, it would have been covered with posters for whatever development firm was working here or trying to sell the place. Not so here. Instead, the surface was covered with silhouettes of people, painted in black and gray. Some were spray painted. Some had brushstrokes and dripping paint, making trails that looked unnervingly like blood.

"Do you think they represent the victims?" Perry checked her notebook. "I wish I could get an accurate figure, then we might have counted them."

"No flowers or candles." Bennett reached out to touch one of the figures. Lifesize. A man? He withdrew his fingers before they touched paint. What if it was still wet? Warm? Like blood? He shook his head, causing Perry to give him a worried look.

"If you don't feel up to it, we can skip the sensitive segment. I get the feeling we'll have enough material anyway."

"I'll see how I feel once we get to it." He shouldn't feel anything; that was what the pills were for. This was just ordinary jitters, the same unease that made Perry light up a cigarette.

"No easy way in, though." She blew out a cloud of smoke as they completed the circle. "You think we could climb it?"

"Probably." Bennett shrugged; he had climbed worse things. No barbed wire on top. "But honestly, I think the biggest selling point is the outside. The graffiti alone would make a great episode. The inside is probably just a cleared-up building site."

"And we shouldn't ruin the mystery. I get you." Perry looked up at the surrounding buildings. Six floors. Eight. Tall enough to loom. "You think we could get a peek in from up there?"

"No roof on the site. I can't see why not. If you fancy climbing stairs, I don't think any of the buildings' got power."

"They look structurally sound, though." She frowned, weighing the pros and cons. "Keep an eye out while I shoot some daylight footage before we head inside. This place is weird enough that will only add to the ambiance."

Bennett nodded and headed over to a spot where he could keep an eye on what he assumed would be the way any cops would enter. He could see it in his mind's eye as he sat down. How they'd stop the car, walk over, have a look, then go back and try to forget this place existed. Like they should have done.

This was a bad idea. He knew it with the same bone-deep surety that he knew he had no choice in the matter. He shouldn't have mentioned his misgivings to Marek, then maybe they could have postponed this particular project. But his bad vibes made for good television, and Marek knew that. The Void episode had nearly got them both killed, but it was their most highly rated one yet and had netted them both a bonus.

Maybe this one would too. He needed one; the pills weren't cheap.

Closing his eyes, he felt the edges of the muffled muteness that surrounded him. His security blanket. Five hours to go until he had to decide whether he dared to forego the next dose and take the plunge. Plenty of time to agonize about it.

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to keep an eye out and not fall asleep." Perry kicked his foot, but he didn't move.

"You know I don't need my eyes for that." But he reluctantly opened them and pulled himself to his feet once more.

"Let's get inside." She kept looking around, and there was something about that particular nervous tick that didn't sit right with him.

"You see anything?" The rush of adrenaline cleared his head, and he found himself repeating the motion. 

"Nothing. Not even birds." She had put the finger on one of the things that bothered him. Deserted buildings were perfect roosting spots, and yet there was no trace of bird shit anywhere.

"Residues?" There had been a chemical strike here; at least that had been the official story. Birds were sensitive. If they had died, it was usually a bad sign.

"Marek swore that was just a cover story. It wasn't a terrorist attack. It was a boost that did it." Perry looked back towards the fence. "He thought it was probably a military project gone wrong or something, hence the secrecy."

"Please tell me that's not going in the episode." Marek had already skirted close to being banned more than once, and Bennett needed this job.

"Of course not. We're not here to deconstruct a mystery, only document it." She patted her camera. "No politics, just spooks. Now, which building should we pick for our stakeout?"

"Give me a moment." Bennett stepped away from the wall, letting his eyes go unfocused. Pale shapes. Staring eyes. Keeping watch. Over what? Why eyes? Why... "That one," he said, pointing at one of the neighboring buildings. In truth, there was no better vibe from that one than the rest, but it had a broken front door, and he needed to move. Get to higher ground.

"Good, let's get going then." She sounded as if she felt the same urge he did. "Let's get into character."

In a way, it was a relief to focus on filming. Staying in character meant staying out of his head. The banter between him and Perry was habitual. By now, they knew each other well enough to follow through with what the other set up. The skeptic and the psychic, Bennett reading walls and spirits while she provided rational explanations. Good television.

Except this time, it was different.

As they made their way up the stairs, taking time to document the lack of interior vandalism, Perry started to go quiet. Missing her cues. Bennett found his comments met with silence, or worse, with nodded assent. As they reached the fourth floor, he stopped, and not only because she was wheezing from the stairs.

"Cut," he said, a sign to future Marek to ignore this part and not include it in the episode. An instruction he usually obeyed, except when it made for a dramatic scene. "Are you okay? You look like you're going to faint."

"I'm... fine..." she wheezed and then turned to look downstairs.

 Bennett found himself doing the same.

 "We're high enough, I think. No need to go all the way to the roof." He didn't ask the question really on his mind. Whether she also felt someone following them up the stairs. He knew she did.

"Why are all the doors locked?" She tried one of them to prove her point. "They've been abandoned for years. There should be squatters."

Bennett didn't answer as he tried another door. She was right; there should have been traces of squatters, birds, or rats. The stairs should have been smelling of piss and garbage. Instead, there was nothing but dank air, the stillness of a building abandoned. 

Abandoned. 

Waiting.

He shook his head, trying the doors one by one. Nothing. They hadn't brought any tools for breaking in; they hadn't thought they'd need them. The glass of the front door downstairs had been smashed, making for easy entry. They had assumed it would be the same inside.

"Want to go down and try a different building?" Bennett turned to look at Perry, who had collected herself by now. "Or head back to the car and pick up our kit so we can get in?" He didn't want to get arrested with such tools, so he didn't carry them needlessly. Enough to send him to jail if the cops didn't like the look of him, which few did.

"Probably for the best..." she took a step towards the stairs, then stopped. Listened. 

Bennett didn't ask. Instead, he cocked his head and listened with her. Nothing but their own breathing. No creaking doors. No footsteps. Buildings made noise; he knew that. Settling and abandoned. Microquakes. Vermin.

Nothing.

"Let's..." Perry turned around but looked over her shoulder nervously. "Let's get to the roof."

"If you're sure." Bennett frowned but followed upstairs, looking back every time she did. He didn't hear anything, but there was something about that frightened, wide-eyed look that scared him more than the building. Perry didn't spook easily. That was his job.

Marek was going to love this, he realized with a sinking feeling. A place spooky enough to scare even the resident skeptic. Was that why he had sent them here? To finally get an episode to top the Void one? Hopefully, with fewer cellar dungeons.

And less blood.

---

Luckily for them, the access door to the roof gaped wide open. The smell of fresh air invigorated them both, and they almost ran the last few steps towards the sunshine. Perry continued towards the edge while Bennett turned to close it behind him. He wasn't sure what it was that bothered him about the black opening, the concrete damp with rain damage, but he didn't want it staring at them. However, the lock was broken, as well as the handle. Had someone kicked it open? It looked like that might have been the case, saving them the trouble. As it kept swinging open, he finally pulled off his backpack, resting it against the door. That worked, and he felt comfortable enough to look around.

Deserted. No sign of birds; the concrete faded but clean. Even the sounds from the surrounding city had dulled to a distant drone. The wind made him feel lonely, as if he had climbed a mountain peak. 

"Perry?" He realized with a start that the roof really was deserted, he didn't see her, and the terror he had been suppressing broke free.

It would be so easy to jump. Walk towards the edge, as she had, not stopping. Over and down. Fall and scream and smash and...

"Come here!" Perry's voice, from behind what looked like an empty water tank.

"Coming," Bennett said, knees weak from relief. 

There had been accidents in the surrounding buildings; they knew that. People painting graffiti and falling to their deaths. Some suicides. The exact number had been impossible to find, but there were enough to worry him. Had others felt that same urge he just did? Sensitives? Or were they caught up in a game of dare? Who could draw the most out-of-place eye? Marek had thought that was the case, kids doing stupid stunts for attention. Accidents happened.

"We've got a perfect view from up here, look!" Perry was standing at the edge, camera out. She sounded like her old self again, as if the episode in the stairwell had been nothing but a bad dream. 

"Just be careful," Bennett cautioned. There was a low concrete wall around the edge, but it wouldn't be hard to climb over. 

"The building is solid," she said as if there were no other reasons she might fall. "Get the binoculars out. I want you to tell me what you see behind the fence."

"Let me get my pack," he sighed, heading back towards the door. Back to normal. His bad vibes and her unbridled curiosity.

Except that the pack had moved and the door now gaped open.

"What the..." Beckett stared at the black opening. Nothing moving. No sound. His backpack lay a yard or two in front of it. Had he really...?

Yes. Yes, he had. And it was a weird angle for the wind to blow it open.

Biting his lip, he looked around. Nothing to see here, not many places for people to hide. Except back in the hole. No. Not hole. This wasn't the Void. It was just a staircase. And he was being stupid. Maybe they weren't alone here. Maybe some squatters wanted them out.

"We're just here to shoot some footage of the place," he said, feeling stupid talking to the dark. "We'll be out of here soon." They had to pick another building for the stakeout, that he had already decided. Closer to ground level. "Our producer is in the van," he lied, better that there were witnesses to where they were. "If you want, I'm sure we can pay you for some comments about this place."

No reply. He hadn't expected anything else. Trying not to look spooked, he grabbed his pack, heading back to Perry while looking back over his shoulder. Nothing. Just the opening staring back.

It should have been a mouth, his brain supplied. The door. It should have been an open, yawning mouth, and yet he felt it staring at him. Unblinking.

Shaking his head, he pulled out the binoculars as he whispered to Perry.

"Not sure if we have company or not," he said, looking back. She did the same. "Thought I heard something, but nobody's answering. You got your gun?"

"Always." She patted her pocket. 

"Keep it ready, just in case."

"I need to film you, but I'll keep an eye out."

"Fine. Let's get this over with." Even with the pills, he trusted his instincts to warn him if someth... someone approached.

He scanned the site with the binoculars as Perry started the introductory speech. It didn't look like much. Without the strange silhouettes painted on the outside of the fence, it looked like any other building site. 

"Did it ever get sold?" Something was bothering him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. 

"Yes," she said, panning her camera over the surroundings. "It was bought for quite a sum, but there has been no development from the buyer."

"They cleared the plate. All the rubble is gone, but there's no sign of any machines."

"They cleared the plate right after the incident," she corrected. "As part of the investigation and to remove any dangerous chemicals."

"Huh." There was no graffiti on the inside of the fence. No sign that anything had been there since it was put up. Except... "I see something."

"What?" Her voice was filled with tense excitement. "Describe it to the camera. My zoom is not that good."

"Looks like something is covered up on the ground. It looks like they might have been doing some digging. A metal plate, like they put out for roadworks. There are warning cones around it, but I don't think anybody's been there in a long time. They have fallen over, and the lines are all tangled."

"Do you think it's worth getting in there for a closer look?"

"Not really," he admitted, lowering his binoculars. "But I think we have to."

"What do you mean?" She panned the camera over to him, and he did his best to ignore how rattled he must look.

"The eyes. The silhouettes. They are all looking at something. I think we need to figure out what's so interesting."

---

Four hours later, night had fallen. It had been hard getting down from the building. Neither of them had felt comfortable taking the stairs, but once they started their descent, they kept speeding up. It had ended in a run, falling over each other in their hurry to get outside. As Marek would undoubtedly say, good television. Once they got it in the cutting room and added context, it would likely be one of their best chase sequences. And nothing had been chasing them.

Nothing. Bennett was sure of that.

They were alone here. They had walked around the perimeter once more. He had been filming this time, trusting his eye to get the interesting spots as Perry related the history of the place. Ground zero of the Heartbreak incident, the terrorist attack that left hundreds of dead. She talked of the later suicides, of the tradition of painting eyes, and the people who had been killed while doing it. He knew it would be interspersed with the interviews they had done before coming here. Survivors. Relatives. Former residents. Individuals. Stories people could connect to.

Names. There were no names anywhere on the walls. No tags. It was as if this place had been wiped clean of identity, ignored by the usual daredevils who competed to tag the most dangerous and difficult places to prove they had gone there.

Weird. Bennett shared a look with Perry. She had noticed it too.

"Over or through?" He gestured to the fence with the camera.

"If you give me a boost, I think over is easier." Perry looked up as she pulled her gloves on. "The fence looks sturdy."

"Sure." He did the same, more for protection from cuts and splinters than to avoid leading fingerprints. Nobody would look for that here. Putting the camera down, he laced his fingers together, and she stepped into his hands with practiced ease. He boosted her up, and she grabbed the top, heaving herself over with a grunt. She caught the camera he tossed after with practiced ease.  

Now it was his turn. A running start was enough to give him the height needed to grab the top of the fence, clambering up and over. It was easier than he thought it would be. Guess they didn't guard it too hard since there was nothing here to steal.

"Huh." Perry had the camera up and panned around. "This is underwhelming."

"They cleared everything away. We might be the first people to set foot here in years." He switched back into his patter, walking around the area, shining his flashlight, talking as he did so. Picking up the vibrations he felt, meandering slowly towards the cones. If he wanted to call this off, he should take his pill now. He could feel the place starting to leak through.

Intense. Terrifying. This would be a bad one; he knew it.

But that's what he got paid for.

"There was no cellar in this building." Perry turned her camera on what he had spotted from the rooftop, what looked like a covered opening in the ground. "Could the explosion have caused a collapse into the sewer system?"

"Maybe," Bennett said. He was no expert on collapsing buildings. "Or a sinkhole?" He hunched down, but the metal slab placed over the possible hole was too heavy to shift. He stomped on it, which made Perry flinch, but the sound was hollow. There was an opening underneath.

"Can you move it?" She panned over the cones; the orange faded from exposure.

"Not a chance, even with tools." He eyed the surrounding ground. No cracks. Things seemed stable. "This was where the Marshal lost his legs, right?"

"The current Marshal, yes." She paused. "Marek? Add footage of past-era Steel if we can get away with it." They most likely couldn't, not without the episode being pulled. "Or, better, the headlines. The Confidential rarely prosecutes fair use."

"Two dead heroes. One maimed. One survivor with a ruined career." Bennett didn't name names, another thing they couldn't afford, despite Marek's contacts.

"And one mystery," Perry finished. "One which we are here to shed some light on."

It was their usual catchphrase, but it had never felt emptier. Bennett knew they couldn't reveal everything they found. All they could do was let him read the place, making sure that whatever he said was vague enough to deepen the mystery rather than solve it. The facts they uncovered they kept to themselves, Marek hoarding them like a dragon of old. Or feeding them to his sponsor.

"I think I'm ready." He could feel the drugs wearing off, his surroundings bleeding into focus.

"Sit or walk?" They could use flashlights freely here; the fence gave them cover. That meant that they could save the darkvision camera for the final vigil.

"Walk. I need to get a feel for what this place was." Is. Bennett shook his head and stepped away from the covered hole. 

"The usual drill then. Go ahead." The gentle light of the camera focused on him, but he ignored it.

He was listening to the building now, not her.

"Door," he started, walking towards the side of the fence. "Door." It tasted odd in his mouth, but he let the words come. Stopping them would be bad. "Impacts. Gravity feels weird." His senses screamed at him that he had to get up, but also that he was falling down. "Up. Down. Door." He shook his head. That was wrong. Up, up, up, "Up. Door. Down." A terrifying roller coaster, but there was no quake damage. No physical disturbance.

Psychic.

No wonder he had felt it was inevitable coming here, the more his system purged the drugs, the more he could feel the massive psychic weight of the place. Like a tornado, sucking everything in. No. A black hole. Walk the path. Up. Up. His feet didn't find steps. Stairs. Gone. Down. The ground remembered impacts. Soft. Bodies broken like peaches. Bruised. Erupted. Boot on hand, broken bones, a scream he gritted his teeth to suppress.

"Talk to me Bennett, what do you feel?"

He shook his mutely, he couldn't speak, he couldn't scream, he tried, but nothing was coming, only wave after wave after wave...

"Bennett!" Perry grabbed his hand before it reached his face.

Eyes. Eyes. He couldn't... Bennett let out a hiss and scrambled for the pills in his pocket. One. Two. Fuck the migraine that would result. He couldn't listen to this. To the screams. To the whispering voices.

Down. Walk. Hands over ears so he wouldn't touch his eyes. Breathe. The pills would kick in soon. He could do this. Let it wash over him. A stone on the beach, indifferent to the waves. To the terror. This place screamed loud enough that even the headblind would hear it; to any psychic, it must be a beacon impossible to resist. He'd never been in Los Diablos clean. The place was heavy enough with trauma that he needed the pills every time he visited Marek's studio. 

He had never been here clean.

If he had, would he have noticed? Even on the other side of town? A sinkhole this size had its own gravity. Would he have walked here? 

Would he have drawn an eye? Torn out his own? Fallen to his death rather than walk back the stairs?

"Bennett? Talk to me. You're scaring me." Perry's voice, from a great distance, but enough to focus on. Breathe.

"I'm..." not fine. Afraid. Dead and buried. "... here." He could still feel the building in his veins, concrete stairwell spine broken gaping toothless maw... 

What?

He blinked, ignoring Perry, ignoring his own revolting mind. He had wandered close to the fence and spotted something. No graffiti. Plain wood. Something black, glinting in the light. Technological. A lense, a...

"What's that camera doing there?"

---

Footage ended.