Scream of the Banshee

Santa Mira Archive Project

Number A2721.

Marble vase.

Ming Dynasty.

Replica.

Condition, fair.

Normal wear and tear.

Restoration, complete.

Fall semester starts

in two weeks.

Think you'll be done in time,

Professor Whelan?

We're close.

We're very close.

Let me

give you a hand.

Oh, no. I'm fine.

I thought it'd be a lot

faster to box and store away

all that old stuff.

You know history.

It always needs

a lot of polishing.

Good night.

You have a good night.

Santa Mira Archive Project

Number B47305.

Indian Head coin circa 1915.

Condition, good.

I just found

Mesozoic era fossils

of an Apatosaurus

next to a series of

thesis papers on Methuselah

and we are one step

closer to completion.

Hey, guys.

And two major steps back.

Do they realize how far

behind we actually are?

I haven't told them yet.

Well, then let's

show the Dean this.

Fossilized rat circa 1954.

Very fine year for rats.

Or

rusty gauntlet.

Gauntlet trumps rat.

Scottish?

Actually Irish.

You can tell from the design.

I'm thinking 12th century.

Yeah. Can I? Just...

Please. Thank you.

This came with it, too.

Oh!

Great. Section three.

Section three?

Do we even have a section three?

Oh!

Yeah. Remember it had

that musty old grandma smell.

Maybe we missed something.

Maybe we didn't.

Look, I told my parents

I'd come home

and visit next week.

Am I the only one

that hasn't made plans

once we're finished?

We finish

when we finish.

You're gonna wear that

thing all day, aren't you?

Just come on over here.

Jeez. How do you get used to being

down here in the dark all day?

How come you're late?

Sorry.

Hi, Ms. Whelan.

Hello, Kurtis.

You should probably go.

See you tonight.

I'll pick you up later, okay?

Okay.

So, what's the damage?

You should go with Otto.

What's section three?

It's a lovely place.

Nice decor.

Wonderful aroma.

Right this way.

Always lift with

the knees.

Lift about 10

of these a day

and you will be

well on your way

to the physique

you see before you.

Okay.

Find this.

Let's see.

A red square?

Could be anything.

Could be a fully solved Rubik's

Cube with the red side facing up.

Could be a single tile

from a checkerboard.

Could be a metaphor for communism

or it could symbolize guilt.

I'll keep an open mind.

Otto!

The square

is another room.

Look out!

Shayla!

I'm okay.

Wet and a little icky,

but I'm good.

What the hell happened?

She found a false wall.

It's not like

I used a sledgehammer.

It was already

falling apart.

How am I gonna explain

this to the school?

There's something

back there.

I thought that's...

You're welcome.

Shayla.

That went well.

I need more light.

Hi.

What? It's for protection.

Well, I think we've found

what we're looking for.

You know what this means?

Yup.

We're dining in tonight.

Burgers or Chinese?

There's a similarity

in craftsmanship.

It's the emblem for

the Irish Templar Knights.

Interesting.

What do you think

is in it?

Another box?

There's some condensation.

It's vibrating.

I've never heard

anything like it.

Sounds like it's...

Sounds like it's breathing.

That's not funny.

Listen to it.

What the hell is that?

I'm not sure.

Could be bugs.

Let's put a moratorium

on the bug talk.

Done with bugs, rodents,

cardboard boxes

and any Chinese mystery meat

that attempts to impersonate

sweet and sour.

Rolling.

Santa Mira Archive Project

Number A2722.

Condition,

fair. Needs

further restoration.

We're attempting to

open a metallic Irish box.

Twelfth century.

Possibly a relic

of the Templar Knights.

There's a strange vibration

coming from it.

We were led to it by a

package containing a gauntlet,

also from the same

time period.

Number A2723.

Ready?

Roger.

We are looking at

an unexplainable phenomenon.

It appears to be

a partially preserved,

severed head.

Maybe of a deformed person

or a wild animal.

Perhaps the metal box contained

some sort of preservative

presently unknown to us.

Damn it!

Perfect timing.

Hello, Dean Harris.

Funny that you should call.

Yeah. No, no, no.

I can handle that.

Okay.

This is freaky.

What do you think?

I don't know.

There doesn't seem

to be any decomposition.

What the hell happened?

Where's the head?

It just exploded.

Did you get it?

Ah, damn.

There doesn't seem

to be any decomposition.

I swear it opened its mouth.

There's no return address.

There's no way

the school sent this to us.

Well, there's gotta be

a plausible explanation.

Yeah, well, I think

we ruled out the plausible

the minute

we opened the box.

Maybe we should tell

someone at the school.

Tell them what happened.

Tell them what, exactly?

Yeah, they are gonna look

at the mess in this classroom

and listen to our

crazy story and say,

"We hired

a bunch of crack whores.

"Round up those crack

whores. Take them to prison. "

Because I'd believe that

a meth lab exploded in here

before I'd believe a story about

an 800-year-old screaming head

we found in a box.

We gotta keep this under

wraps until we figure it out.

Shayla?

Who was it?

Nobody.

I've felt, for some time,

disconnected

from those I once loved.

My isolation, my silence,

my beliefs,

were routinely

written off as madness.

But my madness

is not my affliction.

Awareness is the curse

that I've been saddled with.

We didn't find a key

for the casket.

The apocalypse is coming.

The Mayans were right.

The harbinger of death is

coming and will show no mercy.

Are you listening?

Ow.

Ah, crap.

You cheat, Idaho Commando.

No blades, only guns.

I will destroy you

next time.

Hey.

Hey.

You know,

I'm a little too old

to have a babysitter

waiting up for me.

No one's waiting up for you.

I just... I couldn't sleep.

You should go to bed.

Are you okay?

Yeah. I'm fine.

Fine.

Look.

I'm sorry

about the wall today.

It's okay.

Why don't you go to bed?

I mean,

you've gotta get sleep.

You haven't even started

packing your room yet.

What was behind it anyway?

Nothing.

Why don't you

ever tell me anything?

I don't wanna fight.

Yes, you do.

All the time, actually.

I can see it in the way

you look at me.

Why am I such

a disappointment to you?

Shayla, please.

I don't wanna

do this right now.

You treat me like a child.

You hate my boyfriend.

You refuse to even have a

simple conversation with him.

And, you know, sometimes,

I think you hate me, too,

because I'm the only thing

you have left of Dad!

Shayla, I don't wanna

get into this tonight.

When are you going

to stop blaming me?

It's not my fault you

weren't around when Dad died.

Bad night?

You, too?

It's not surprising,

considering.

No.

It was more than that.

I kept hearing voices

outside of my place all night.

Giggling.

Scratching.

And it wasn't the storm.

Something was trying

to get in.

It was taunting me.

I kept trying

to convince myself

that it was my imagination

getting the best of me.

Do you want to see what my

imagination did to me last night?

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