---
layout:          post
title:           "MAGP 29 - Keyed In"
date:            2024-09-05 15:00:00 # in UTC
episode_type:      episode
tags:            []
voiced:          []
categories:			"tmagp"
podcasts: ["tmagp"]
title_prefix:	"MAGP"
prev_categories: ["tmagp"]
prev_prefixes: ["MAGP"]
prev_episode:	['028']
prev_episode_num:		['028']
prev_episode_title:		["Interruptions"]
next_categories: ["tmagp"]
next_prefixes: ["MAGP"]
next_episode:	['030']
next_episode_num:		['030']
next_episode_title:		["Dead End Job"]
episode_title:   'Keyed In'
episode_number:  '029'
summary:         "CAT2RB4254-30012020-13052024<br/>Drowning (subterranean) -/- key (metaphor)"
content_flags:   ["Captivity", "Drowning", "Claustrophobia", "Grief"]
acast_url:      https://shows.acast.com/themagnusarchives/episodes/the-magnus-protocol-29-keyed-in
formats:
    Official PDF: https://rustyquillcom.sharepoint.com/:f:/g/ElFMfJSzHzRMhhWGghFX8E8Bg27o0_Amiemvu0Hqq8D6Yg
official:        true
notes:          "Edited by Anonymous 2024-09-06, H 2024-09-12, Anonymous 2024-12-19"
---

#### ANNOUNCER

This episode is dedicated from Skylar Ceros to Aeron: You are so incredibly important to us and worthy of genuine and gentle love and affection. We hope at some point you'll be able to see this too. We'll always be there for you, no matter what. Sincerely, Skylar.

##### [Intro Theme]

#### ANNOUNCER

Rusty Quill Presents: The Magnus Protocol.

Episode Twenty-Nine -- Keyed In.

##### [Music]

---

<!-- #### 1. EXT. O.I.A.R. MAIN ENTRANCE -- NIGHT, THUNDERSTORM (SAM'S PHONE) 

Rain is hammering down on the exterior paving. It is muffled by Sam's body which is partially shielding his phone. CELIA opens the main door and steps outside.  -->

##### [Dial tone: a phone recording]

##### [We're outside; the rain is still pouring]

#### CELIA

_(muffled, calling)_ Sam? Are you *still* out here?

##### [Celia almost trips over Sam and notices him.]

#### CELIA

Oh *shit!* Sam? Sam, are you okay?

##### [Celia kneels next to him and rolls him over, uncovering the phone in the process.]

#### CELIA

Sam, can you hear me? Oh *Christ,* Sam no, no, no, no no...

##### [She pats him frantically]

#### SAM

_(shivering, faintly)_ Urgh. 

#### CELIA

*Sam!* Oh thank god! 

#### SAM

Wh-where...

#### CELIA

Shh, let's get you inside. 

##### [Phone recording beeps and stops.]

---

##### [The breakroom CCTV whirs on]

##### [Sam is breathing a little shakily as he drinks something]

#### CELIA

You're *sure* you don't want me to get the others? 

#### SAM

_(still shivering)_ No. Lena will just want me to sign some kind of w-waiver, G-Gwen wouldn't care, and Alice... 

_(sighs)_ I just can't face one of her I-told-you-so's right now. 

#### CELIA

_(unsure)_ All right.

##### [She sits next to him.]

#### CELIA

What happened? 

#### SAM

_(shaky from the cold)_ I-I-I went outside to... To see the car. It *was* a Bentley. I watched it leave and then... it was just... there. 

#### CELIA

You're *sure* it was the same thing? 

#### SAM

I'm sure. 

#### CELIA

But everyone else it attacked ended up... _(catches herself)_ well...

#### SAM

Dead? 

#### CELIA

Yeah!

#### SAM

I don't know. I-It didn't feel like it wanted to kill me, or eat me, or whatever. _(inhales, shakily)_ It felt -- It felt more like it was searching for something, in my head. Random memories just kept popping up and -- and then suddenly I was talking and couldn't stop. I-It was like that bit was just an accident. 

#### CELIA

Do you know what it wanted? What it was looking for? 

#### SAM

It kept going after anything it could on the Magnus Institute. Then my mind went to the Hilltop Centre and... 

#### CELIA

And? 

#### SAM

I-I think we need to go there. *Now.* Or something terrible is going to happen. 

##### [He stands abruptly]

#### CELIA

Sam! I just found you lying unconscious in the rain! You can't stop shaking! You're going to be lucky not to catch pneumonia, I don't think --

#### SAM

I'm telling you. Something important is about to go down and *I need* to get there. 

#### CELIA

No. 

#### SAM

You can't stop me.

##### [He fumbles for the door. Celia catches him.]

#### CELIA

Wanna bet? 

#### SAM

_(desperate)_ Celia, please.

#### CELIA

...

Fine. But we're going together. Call Alice and let her know what's happening, *just in case.* I'll ask Georgie if she can look after Jack this morning. 

##### [Sam sighs in relief]

#### SAM

Thank you. 

#### CELIA

__Don't__ thank me. This is a really, *really* bad idea. 

---

##### [O.I.A.R. microphone whirs to life]

##### [Door opens, footsteps]

#### LENA

I'm heading off for the night, Gwen. Make sure you lock up when you're done. 

#### GWEN

Are you sure I can handle such an *important* responsibility? 

#### LENA

There's no need for that, Gwen. I actually thought you did rather well with the minister, all things considered. Let's not end things on a sour note.

##### [Gwen snorts to herself, but is otherwise loudly silent.]

#### LENA

_(smiling)_ Well. I'm afraid I do have to run. I presume I can trust you to close up? 

#### GWEN

If you like. 

#### LENA

Excellent.

##### [She moves for the door]

Please don't call me unless it's an emergency.

##### [Lena exits]

##### [Gwen stops typing, stretches and takes a deep steadying breath. The office is too quiet.]

##### [Suddenly, a beep:]

#### CHESTER

Cheshire Police Constabulary --

#### GWEN

The *hell?* 

#### CHESTER

Case: Homicide  
Date: 30-01-2020 (00:35)

##### [Gwen sighs and starts typing, filing the case]

#### CHESTER

Collection: Cheshire East CID  
Repository Item: 1x 2019/2020 Travel Diary, pink with flowers, significant blood damage, UPC 2956723676  
Case: 3692/20  
Serial Number: 95283674  
Collector: David Collins (SOCO-98549)  
Routing to: North-West Long-Term Evidence Storage

Scanned information reads: Travel Diary of Mrs. Viola Locke. If found please return to: 151 Lacey Grn, Wilmslow, England SK9 4BY, Or call: 07873 52 [text obscured by blood stain] and get a lovely smile as a reward!

Tuesday 19th November 2019 14:30(ish)

Stanley has really outdone himself this time! Woke up 7:45am expecting a short walk around the green before aerobics and instead he throws a new travel diary in my lap (that's you!) and tells me to pack a bag for somewhere cold this afternoon!

Spent first half of the morning packing then second half, running around like a headless chicken looking for my passport (thank goodness I'd renewed it!). Nearly missed the taxi after Stan had to rush back inside for the *fourth* time to check the oven was off and even then he still managed to forget his stick.

I'll let him off this time though. Feels a little ungrateful to get on his case when he's gone to all this trouble! Besides, I'm fairly certain I left the immersion heater on... (must remember to turn it off when we get back before he sees it or he'll pitch a fit!) Apologies for handwriting, diary, in back of the taxi on way to Airport. 

15:15

Prague! The sly devil, I knew he was doing something up in the loft! Probably digging through the old travel box, the soft old thing. Pardon the crumbs, I'm just having a spot of tea and cake before the plane. (Note: call, Sandra when we land, get her to turn off the immersion.)

7:30pm

He's only gone and booked the Archibald, even the same room! And, you'll never guess, that dashing Tomas who was serving the drinks with his funny little jokes? He's the *manager* now. I feel oddly proud of that! I'll have to leave it there, absolutely shattered and we've got a big day tomorrow.

(Note: must call Sandra first thing)

Wednesday 20th November 2019 08:00pm

This is the first chance I've had to write all day! Breakfast by the river, then up onto Charles Bridge (gorgeous as ever but cold!) Across to old town past that wonderfully gothic tower and fancy clock. Stopped for food, Stan ordered an early beer but I let him off as he's been on grand form. Stumbled on this hilarious sex museum on the way back. Stan, was all blushing and averted eyes but I insisted we went in. Then it was back to the hotel to freshen up for a lovely sea-food dinner in Kampa.

He's definitely keeping us away from Lover's Bridge. Probably wants to reenact his proposal. I doubt he even could with his hip but I suppose I'm happy to play along. He may be a grumpy old fart, but he does love me...

I hope our lock is still there. Could you imagine? 50 years locked together... Goodness knows it stands a better chance than most. That must have been the biggest padlock they sold, it barely fit around the rails!

Right. Off to nod. I always get mawkish when I'm tired.

(Note: Must, must, must call Sandra in the morning.)

Thursday 21st November 2019

Odemknout své srdce

Thursday 24th December 2020

I miss him. I'm alone on Christmas and it's my fault.

Friday 01st January 2021

Happy new year, Stan...

Friday 29th January 2021

I never told you what happened, did I, diary? I just agreed with whatever they said had happened. But I suppose I should write it down before I use the key.

It was raining when we went to Na Kampě. It was cold, wet and honestly, if Stan wasn't so set on going I would have skipped it, anniversary or not.

It turns out they'd cut all the locks off the bridge years ago, so there was no sign we'd ever been there. I could tell Stan was disappointed but he still dropped to one knee. Silly git.

And just as I expected, he got stuck. His hip always played up in the damp. Thankfully a local lad stepped in but I could tell Stan was really upset. This was supposed to be his grand gesture and instead he was filthy, I was shivering and the café wasn't even open yet. But you know Stan, when he gets a bee in his bonnet, there's no stopping him.

So he marches over to see when the café opens and starts faffing around, checking the doors even though he can see the closed sign. A moment later he's calling me over. He points down some narrow stone stairs that lead to the canal and at the bottom there's a little sign with a picture of a lock surrounded by the words "Zamčené muzeum." My Czech isn't what it was, but according to Stan it meant "The Lock Museum."

Stan got all excited at this, said he was going to go buy another lock for the bridge "come hell or high water!" I tried to talk him out of it, but he was on a mission.

It was only when we reached the bottom of the stairs that we noticed the squat man outside. He was soaking, worse even than us, and he didn't even seem to care. Instead he sat on the museum step playing some game with a manky-looking deck of cards and somehow smoking a pipe despite the downpour. Scruffy doesn't begin to describe it, his clothes were patched all over and the shapeless floppy hat he wore barely covered his lank hair.

Stan was hesitant, we were out of sight of the road after all, but he put a brave face on and pointed with his stick before speaking loudly and clearly:

"Open?"

The man blinked slowly, then gave a lazy nod.

I wanted to get back to the road but off Stan went, ducking underneath the heavy wooden lintel. And I followed him.

It was dark and damp-smelling inside. Unsurprising really, given it was so close to the canal and the weak bulbs shed just enough light to see the tunnel led to a spiral staircase leading downwards.

I told Stan he was going to break his neck, but he just limped on down them without a backwards glance.

At the base of the staircase was a colossal wooden door. There was a thick white key in place of a knocker that had four spikey arrows pointing inwards at the handle end. I was rather proud of myself for recognizing the symbol of the Knights of Malta who supposedly built the canal.

Stan tried the door, and it seemed locked tight. He turned to me then, so crestfallen by this latest defeat that I couldn't help but take pity on him. He clearly hadn't seen the key, so I reached out and grabbed it myself.

It was clearly made from some sort of ivory, smooth and cold to the touch, colder even than the stone of the tunnel itself. I half worried it might be frozen in place, but it came away from the knocker easily, and I swear, when I slid that key into the keyhole, I heard the lock grind open before I'd even turned it.

Stan hurried inside with a satisfied grin, and I followed. The room beyond was large, with damp stone walls interlaced with thick oak beams and a large millstone in the centre.

Lined around the walls were incongruously pristine dark and glossy wooden plinths, each with a little pillow displaying a different lock. There were some simple, modern looking, padlocks near the entrance but walking around the millstone they grew older and stranger. Some were elaborate and delicate with golden filigree, others were oversized gothic affairs of worked iron with screaming faces and keyhole mouths. As I kept circling the room though they grew simpler until finally at the far end, was a simple wooden bolt with what looked like a spiked wooden paddle beside it, stained with something old and dark.

I turned to point this out to Stan only to find him still by the entrance, staring at one of the more modern locks. I couldn't see how this had caught his eye, given all the other beautiful and grotesque exhibits -- but as I drew nearer, I understood.

It was our lock. I don't know how it got there but I was certain. A closed padlock of thick steel with an engraving: "For the love of a Locke." That was Stanley's little joke. I'd always teased him about his surname, even after it was mine as well.

I gently picked it up. It was ours after all, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

That was when everything changed. First the main door slammed shut with an echoing boom. I cried out in surprise and Stan gave an angry yell. He rushed over and started tugging pointlessly at the iron ring handle, but it was locked again and there was no keyhole on this side.

Instead there was writing carved deep into the back of the door. "Odemknout své srdce." I wrote it down at the time, and have since looked it up. It means: "Unlock your heart."

The door didn't shift despite Stan carrying on. It was only when he finally stopped for breath that I noticed a sound in the previously silent room: rushing water.

That was when I really got frightened. Sounds silly, I know, but up to then I was still assuming it would all work out. It would turn out the wind caught the door and we'd be let out, that somehow it was all a mistake. But the water, that scared me.

Filthy water was already pouring in under the door and even as I watched it creeped up the edges on each side, spurts of the same fetid liquid rapidly gushing in with terrible force. It was even seeping between the wooden boards of the door itself which began to groan under the strain.

We hurriedly backed away, our feet splashing though the already rising water, searching for a way out. Looking around I saw more pouring in from between the stones on all sides, trickles thickening into gouts and it wasn't long before it was lapping at our knees.

Stan was yelling again, screaming for help but there was no one to hear besides me and whatever had locked us inside.

As I was splashing around, my foot caught on something heavy protruding from the floor, a bolt, heavy iron against the floor covering what looked like some sort of trapdoor.

In a blind panic I scrabbled with my arms for the bolt, straining my neck to keep my chin above the surface. My searching fingers finally found it and without thinking slid it open.

Suddenly the walls and floor were rushing up and away from me as I fell, utterly terrified, certain I was going to drown down there, alone in the dark. Instead, I landed hard, only a few feet down, with the stinking water rushing past me in a torrent, down and away through a tunnel.

I forced myself up till my shoulders just cleared the trapdoor. The water level had lowered as it drained away down my tunnel but it wouldn't be long before it climbed again as ever more water streamed in even from the darkness above now.

I looked over at Stan. He had seen what happened, and for a moment, he smiled, moving towards me. I try to remember that smile, the look on his face when he thought everything was going to be okay. Then his foot slipped, his hip gave way, and he fell, hard. I heard his skull crack on the wet millstone even over the roar of the water...

I still like to tell myself that was when he died, that I couldn't possibly have heard him begging me for help. But the water was so strong, *too strong.* Every second I hesitated more was rushing through the trapdoor, threatening to wash me away with it. Soon I wouldn't even be able to close it.

So I braced the trapdoor against my back and then heaved it back upwards, thrusting with my legs. I've no idea how my back held up under the strain, but I managed to force it closed except, the bolt on the underside was weaker than the one on top. I knew it wouldn't hold on its own. Not unless... unless I locked it. So, I did. Using our lock.

Water was still pouring down through all four sides of the trapdoor, but it was holding. I didn't know how long for though, so then... I ran. Forcing myself along the tunnel through the icy water with numb legs before it rose too high.

I know I couldn't have heard him calling for me. Even if he was still alive, which he wasn't, I couldn't have heard it over all that rushing water and through the sturdy wood of the trapdoor. He wasn't calling for me. But I heard him as I escaped down the tunnel. I still hear him.

I don't remember much of the rescue, I was unconscious for most of it but apparently, I was still screaming as they bundled me off to the Na Františku hospital. It turns out that the lad who helped Stan up earlier heard my screams coming up through a drain and called for help. I'm still in contact with him. He's called Ondřej and has a beautiful little girl.

Stan washed up two days later on the bank of the Vltava. They wanted me to identify the body, but I didn't recognize him.

We made the news, you know. Two stupid British tourists mistake flood relief tunnels for a tourist attraction. But I know it was real. I've still got the key.

I wanted to throw it away so many times but I just couldn't bring myself to. Horrible or not, I traded Stanley's life for it. And it is so very beautiful.

Even better, it works. I haven't found a lock yet that it doesn't open. Doors, safes, lockboxes. I even tried it on a crack in the wall once, just to see what happened. It can open anything.

I've been thinking about using it on myself. I could push it into my chest, give it the smallest turn and open up my heart. Just reach in and pull out all the grief.

Perhaps I will. After all, what have I got to lose?

Either way, I won't be missing you soon, Stanley. 

##### [Beep.]

---

<!-- #### 5. INT. THE PUB -- NIGHT, THUNDERSTORM (ALICE'S

PHONE) It's quiet in the Pub. TEDDY and ALICE are drinking together, it's friendly but not convivial.  -->

##### [Dial tone: phone recording]

##### [We're in a pub. There are faint voices of other people in the background, but it's fairly quiet.]

#### ALICE

So? How's sunlight treating you? 

#### TEDDY

Oh, you know, can't complain. 

#### ALICE

News to me. 

#### TEDDY

Ha!

##### [Teddy drinks, then sighs] 

#### TEDDY

If I'm honest though, I actually am struggling to get back on days. I keep catching myself online at 2 a.m. 

#### ALICE

Yeah, I noticed!

#### TEDDY

_(heh)_ What can I say? Insomnia's a bitch, and it's not like anyone else is up then. 

#### ALICE

Nonsense! The night is full of creeps and weirdos! 

#### TEDDY

Hm. You'd think I would fit *right* in. 

#### ALICE

Your words, not mine.

##### [Beat. They both drink to fill the silence.] 

#### TEDDY

So. How's things your end? Sam still getting on okay? 

#### ALICE

_(sighs, a little cold)_ He's doing fine. 

#### TEDDY

Wow.

...I thought you two were close? 

#### ALICE

So did I. 

#### TEDDY

Ah.

##### [They drink again.]

#### TEDDY

Listen, Alice, while you're here. I've been meaning to talk to you about something, uh... serious.

#### ALICE

_(laughs)_ Yeah, I know what you're going to ask and... no, salmon pink really isn't working for ya. You need something in rich puce. 

#### TEDDY

_(a weak chuckle)_ Alice, er... we've got to talk. It's important.

##### [Alice's phone buzzes]

##### [Fabric rustles as she digs her phone out of her pocket]

#### ALICE

Okay...

#### TEDDY

_(nervous)_ So -- umm. The thing is, the new job, i-it's... It's not exactly --

#### ALICE

*Damn.* Er -- I-I'm *really* sorry but I think I need to check this. Hold on for two minutes? 

#### TEDDY

_(put out)_ Oh, er, yeah. Sure.

##### [Alice stands and steps aside checking her voicemail.] 

#### VOICEMAIL

To listen to your messages, press one--

##### [Beep.]

#### VOICEMAIL

You have one new message: 

#### SAM

_(on phone, breathing fast)_ Alice, it's Sam. I thought you should know. Celia and I are on our way to Paddington right now. We're catching a train to Oxford -- I think we need to stop the Archivist *thing* from doing... whatever it's going to do at the Hilltop Centre. I know you won't want us to go, you'll just be like _(a little higher-pitched)_ "it's stupid, it's reckless, you're an idiot" but --

##### [Alice hangs up.]

#### TEDDY

Alice? 

#### ALICE

_(urgent)_ Listen, Teddy, I'm really sorry but I have a train to catch. 

##### [She starts stuffing her things together]

#### TEDDY

A... train? Right!

#### ALICE

_(prepping to leave)_ No, h-honestly, Ted, I'm so sorry, it's *really* important. I-I mean, I wouldn't rush off like this if --

#### TEDDY

Listen -- sure, sure. I get it. 

#### ALICE

Drop me a line later, yeah? We can pick up where we left off. 

#### TEDDY

_(down)_ Of course. 

#### ALICE

_(rushing, not paying attention)_ Great! Cheers Teddy, look after yourself!

##### [Alice runs out]

##### [Teddy exhales slowly, then drinks his pint.]

---

##### [Dial tone again]

##### [The phone rings]

#### ALICE

_(muttering)_ For god's sake, Sam, pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick up -- you useless sack of --

#### SAM

_(on phone)_ Hey --

#### ALICE

_(loudly)_ What the hell do you think you're doing? 

#### SAM

_(on phone; was expecting this)_ O-Okay, Alice. Listen -- 

#### ALICE

No. *You* listen! You're going to get off that train right now otherwise *I* will come in there and *drag* you off. Do you hear me? 

##### [Sam sighs on the other end]

#### TICKET OFFICER

_(bored)_ Ticket. 

#### ALICE

_(to officer)_ No I don't need a ticket, I'm just grabbing my mate!

#### TICKET OFFICER

I can't let you past without a ticket. You can buy one over at the ticket desk. 

#### ALICE

For *god's sake!* 

#### SAM

_(on phone)_ Doors are closing Alice, I'll call you once we're in our seats or something. 

#### ALICE

_(panicked)_ No! Sam, wait! Sam!

##### [He hangs up.] 

#### ALICE

Dammit! 

##### [The train begins to move away]

#### TICKET OFFICER

Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to step aside. 

#### ALICE

_(angry)_ Listen, mate, I just... 

#### TICKET OFFICER

Miss --

#### ALICE

_(slowly)_ Wait. Do you see that? Who --

#### TICKET OFFICER

Seriously? 

#### ALICE

What? N-no, look, *look!* On the *train,* there's --

#### TICKET OFFICER

_(irritated)_ Right, that's it. Sarah, can you show this woman out please? 

#### ALICE

_(being led away)_ No, no, wait, listen, I --

##### [She shrugs off the escort.]

#### ALICE

Fine, fine! I get it!

##### [She taps at her phone furiously]

##### [It starts buzzing, then stops]

##### [Three beeps indicating a rejected call]

#### ALICE

Pick up, Sam. Pick up. It's on the train! It's *on the train...* 

---

##### [Music]

#### ANNOUNCER

The Magnus Protocol is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Sharealike 4.0 International License. The series is created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall, and directed by Alexander J Newall.

This episode was written by Alexander J Newall and edited with additional materials by Jonathan Sims, with vocal edits by Nico Vettese, soundscaping by Meg McKellar, and mastering by Catherine Rinella with music by Sam Jones.

It featured Billie Hindle as Alice Dyer, Shahan Hamza as Samama Khalid, Anusia Battersby as Gwen Bouchard Lowri Ann Davies as Celia Ripley, Sarah Lambie as Lena Kelley, Kazeem Tosin Amore as Teddy Vaughan, with additional voices from Jonathan Sims.

The Magnus Protocol is produced by April Sumner, with executive producers Alexander J Newall, Dani McDonough, Linn Ci, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton, and Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d'Raven, and Megan Nice.

To subscribe, view associated materials, or join our Patreon, visit rustyquill.com. Rate and review us online, tweet us @therustyquill, visit us on facebook or email us at mail@rustyquill.com.

Thanks for listening.