©Rusty Quill 2023

The Magnus Protocol

Episode 29
"Locked In"

Written by Alexander J Newall

Edited by Jonathan Sims

08-02-2023
Draft 3
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©Rusty Quill 2023

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.

CELIA
(muffled)
Sam? You still out here?
CELIA almost trips over SAM and notices him.

CELIA
(cont. muffled)
Oh shit! Sam!? Sam are you okay?

CELIA kneels next to him and rolls him over uncovering the
phone in the process.

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CELIA
(cont.)
Sam! Can you hear me? Oh Christ
Sam no, no, no, no no-

CELIA checks his breathing etc. SAM stirs.

SAM
(shivering)
Urgh.

CELIA
Sam! Oh thank god!

SAM
(shivering)
Wh- where-
CELIA
Shh, let’s get you inside.

2. INT. O.I.A.R. BREAKROOM – NIGHT, THUNDERSTORM

(CCTV)
SAM is shivering and drinking a hot coffee. CELIA is watching
him warily.
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 waiver, Gwen wouldn’t
care and Alice…

Beat.

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SAM
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
(cont.)
What happened?

SAM
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… well…

She catches herself.

Beat.

SAM
Dead?
CELIA
Yeah.

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SAM
I don’t know. It didn’t feel like it
wanted to kill me or eat me or
whatever. It felt – It felt more like it
was searching for something, in my
head. Random memories kept
popping up and then suddenly I was
talking and couldn’t stop. 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 think we need to go there, now, or
something terrible is going to
happen.

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.
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SAM
You can’t stop me.
CELIA
Wanna bet?

SAM
Celia please.

Beat.
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
Thank you.
CELIA
Don’t thank me. This is a really,
really bad idea.

3. INT. OIAR OFFICE – NIGHT, THUNDERSTORM

(COMPUTER)

LENA approaches whilst Gwen sullenly plugs away at her

keyboard.

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?

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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.

Beat. GWEN is loudly silent.

LENA
(smiling)
Well, I’m afraid, I do have to run. I
presume I can trust you to close up?

GWEN
(returning to work)
If you like.
LENA
(leaving)
Excellent. Please don’t call me
unless it’s an emergency.
LENA exits. Beat. GWEN stops typing, stretches and takes a
deep steadying breath. The office is too quiet. Without warning
CHESTER begins speaking, GWEN did not set it going.

4. CYBERSPACE – N/A, N/A(COMPUTER).

CHESTER
Cheshire Police Constabulary/

GWEN
/The hell?

CHESTER

Case: Homicide

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

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Collection: Cheshire East CID

Repository

Item:
1x 2019/2020 Travel Diary, Pink with
flowers, significant blood damage,
UPC 2956723676

Case: 3692/20

Serial#: 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
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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
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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
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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.

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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
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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.

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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
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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 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.”

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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.

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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 ok. Then his foot
slipped, his hip gave way, and he
fell, hard. I heard his skull crack on

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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.

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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 Andrej 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

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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.

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.

ALICE
So. How’s sunlight treating you?

TEDDY
Oh you know, can’t complain.

ALICE
News to me.

TEDDY
Ha!

TEDDY drinks

TEDDY
(cont.)
If I’m honest though, I actually am
struggling to get back on days. I
keep catching myself online at 2am.
ALICE
Yeah, I noticed.

TEDDY
What can I say? Insomnia’s a bitch
and it’s not like anyone else is up
then.
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ALICE
Nonsense – the night is full of creeps
and weirdoes!

TEDDY
You’d think I would fit right in.

ALICE
Your words, not mine.

Beat. They both drink to fill the silence.

TEDDY
(cont.)
So how’s things your end? Sam still
getting on okay?
ALICE
(cold)
He’s doing fine.

TEDDY
Wow. I thought you two were close?

ALICE
So did I.

TEDDY
Ah.
Beat.

TEDDY
(cont.)
Listen, Alice, while you’re here, I’ve
been meaning to talk to you about
something… serious?

ALICE
Yeah, I know what you’re going to
ask and… no, salmon pink really

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isn’t working for you. You need

something in rich puce.
TEDDY
(smiling weakly)
Alice, we’ve got to talk. It’s
important.
Alice’s phone buzzes.

ALICE
(checking her phone)
Okay…

TEDDY
(nervous)
So- um. The thing is, the new job
it’s… it’s not exactly-

ALICE
Damn, 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-

ALICE presses “1”

VOICEMAIL
(cont.)
You have one new message:

SAM
(on phone, manic)
Alice, it’s Sam. I thought you should
know. Celia and I are on our way to
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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 “it’s
stupid, it’s reckless, you’re an idiot”
but-

ALICE hangs up.

TEDDY
Alice?

ALICE
Listen Teddy I’m really sorry but I
have a train to catch.
TEDDY
(deflated)
A… train? Right.

ALICE
(prepping to leave)
No, honestly, Ted, I’m so sorry. It’s
really important. I mean, I wouldn’t
rush off like this if-
TEDDY
Sure. I get it.

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

TEDDY
Of course.

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

Alice leaves. TEDDY takes a deep steadying breath than drinks

his pint.

6. PADDINGTON STATION – NIGHT, THUNDERSTORM

(ALICE’S PHONE)

ALICE is stood in the main lobby checking the departure board

whilst calling SAM on the phone.

ALICE
(muttering)
For god’s sake Sam pickup. Pickup,
pickup, pickup, pickup you useless
sack of-

SAM
(on phone)
Hey-

ALICE
(loudly)
What the hell do you think you’re
doing?

SAM
(on phone)
Ok. Alice, listen-

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ALICE
(loudly)
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?

TICKET OFFICER
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
(to SAM)
No Sam wait! Sam!
He hung up.

ALICE
(cont.)
Dammit!

TICKET OFFICER
Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to
step aside.

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ALICE
(angry)
Listen mate I just…

TICKET OFFICER
Miss-

ALICE
(Afraid)
Wait- Do you see that? Who-

TICKET OFFICER
Seriously?

ALICE
What? 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 calls Sam again.

ALICE
(cont.)
Pick up, Sam. Pick up. It’s on the
train, It’s on the train…

[Music]

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ANNOUNCER
The Magnus Protocol is a podcast
distributed by Rusty Quill and
licensed under a Creative Commons
Attribution Non-Commercial Share-
alike 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
Vaughn 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.
[27]
©Rusty Quill 2023

The Magnus Protocol 29 – Keyed In

CAT2RB4254-30012020-13052024
Drowning (subterranean) -/- key (metaphor)

Incident Elements:
 Captivity
 Drowning
 Claustraphobia
 Grief

Transcripts available at https://rustyquill.com/transcripts/the-magnus-protocol/

This episode is dedicated from Skylar Ceros to Aeron, thank you for your generous support! You
can find a complete list of our Kickstarter backers https://rustyquill.com/the-magnus-protocol-
supporter-wall/

Created by Jonathan Sims and Alexander J Newall

Directed by Alexander J Newall
Written by Alexander J Newall
Script Edited with additional material by Jonathan Sims
Executive Producers April Sumner, Alexander J Newall, Jonathan Sims, Dani McDonough, Linn
Ci, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton
Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d’Raven, and
Megan Nice
Produced by April Sumner

Featuring (in order of appearance)

Lowri Ann Davies as Celia Ripley
Shahan Hamza as Samama Khalid
Sarah Lambie as Lena Kelley
Anusia Battersby as Gwendolyn Bouchard
Jonathan Sims as Chester
Billie Hindle as Alice Dyer
Kazeem Tosin Amore as Teddy Vaughn
Kai Partenie as Ticket Officer

Dialogue Editor – Nico Vettese

Sound Designer – Meg McKellar
Mastering Editor - Catherine Rinella

Music by Sam Jones (orchestral mix by Jake Jackson)

Art by April Sumner

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©Rusty Quill 2023

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The Magnus Protocol is a derivative product of the Magnus Archives, created by Rusty Quill Ltd.
and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Share alike 4.0
International Licence.

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