The Lesser Dead - Dark City - Season 1 - Episode 1

Episode Date: March 27, 2023

For Joey Peacock (Jack Kilmer), life as a vampire in 1978 New York City isn’t half bad. He lives in the tunnels of the city with his unconventional family led by the fearsome Margaret McMannis (Minnie Driver) and spends his evenings reveling in the abundant pleasures the city has to offer. That is until one night, when Joey witnesses something on a routine subway ride that turns his world upside-down. Follow The Lesser Dead on Wondery+. You can listen exclusively by subscribing to Wondery+ in Apple Podcasts or the Wondery App. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Echoverse Echoverse presents The Lesser Dead I'm going to tell you about a year. This year, 1978. And mostly I'm doing this for myself. Trying to make sense of things, you know? As much sense as can be made.

This isn't a story about nice people doing. Nice things. You're gonna be burdened with an unreliable narrator who will disappoint and repel you at every turn. Most of it happens someplace dark and damp or good people don't go. This is a place where monsters realize this is a story about hurting people and if you like those kind of stories, it means you're bad.

It means there's something broken in you. You're less like me. We're going into the subway. You don't need money, only suckers pay. I'll show you how we get into the loops through a break-up window with loose bricks. Through a trap door, in the ventilation system, access tunnel, train tunnel.

Then we'll jump up on the platform. If you're not too big, that's good. Larger people don't do so good in the loops. That's the tunnels, round and under the subways. Anyway, I just want to give you a peep at something. You gotta stay awake down here. Every minute. Watch your feet. You gotta keep clear that third rail. You know what stepping on that third rail would be like? You know that three-headed monster, Guidra, the one that got curved stomped by Godzilla? The one shooting lightning bolts out of his three snakey heads. The third rail is all three heads up your ass.

Full of lightning. You fucking explode. I'm not even kidding myself. All right, here's the platform Come on, here's what I wanted to show you You see that guy in super wide collar and tainted glasses the guy with the briefcase The guy who looks like a watered-down James Kong Good now see the handsome young stud shadowing him?

That's me. Welcome to the magic of storytelling. I can tell this however I want. I'm here, I'm there, I'm your narrator. It feels kind of good, doesn't it? Like no matter what happens, it's not your fault. You're just the passenger, and I'm in charge. And I know I can trust you, so I'm going to tell you a secret. The secret is, vampires are real, and I am one.

And if I set my sights on you, no cop is coming, and no doctor can help you. And your own mother won't believe you if you tell her. Though you won't remember a thing. I look like a high school junior, but I'm pushing 60. And if I catch you alone, I'm gonna steal from you what is most truly yours. And I'm not sorry. Oh no! Isn't that fun? I just take what I need, right?

Because that's how you do it if you don't want to get caught. Creeps who kill people, that's stupid. That's a waste. We call that peeling, and it's strictly fucking forbidden. You follow a few basic rules, and the or the unlife or whatever can be pretty easy. It was fun down here not too long ago. Come on, I'll show you. We're gonna rewind the live moment.

It's the same shit called February night in the Grand Scent. Just early. It's the same shit-cold February night in Grandson. Just early. That crazy black dude singing over there? The one with the voice like Burnt Honey? That's Billy Bang. She ain't really young. Billy's just smooth like that. He's one of us, a vampire, or as we say, family. Anybody else walking up on Billy Bay would think he was just a particularly good busker. One of those world shakers on his way to Nashville or LA.

Mirrored sunglasses, cocked cowboy hat, snake skin boots, hard not to envy him getting turned when he did. Son of a bitch gets to be 28, forever. Joey, I'm in. Hey, I got the handshake. Yeah, oh my. What's shaking? Just living the life, baby, you?

Oh, you know, how to get out for a bit. A word to the wise, stay out of Margaret's way. She said on something sideways and you know how she gets. Yeah, everybody in the loops knows how Margaret gets. It's not so bad down here in the pitch black. Things change once you're turned. Darkness isn't so dark. When the pitch black, things change once you're turned. Darkness isn't so dark. Everything seems candle lit, even the black is black, incandescent. Everything down here is subtly, beautifully incandescent. Nothing ugly about darkness.

Know what's ugly? Sunlight. It'll burn you. Burn you dead. But even indirect sunlight, like looking into a white hot welder's torch. Overcast days make us queasy. We all have sunglasses if we go topside on rainy day or at dusk. Down here though, low light bliss. Alright, nickel tour.

This is the common area we live around this. Here's the washing it. Spigot and a drain. We should have stolen more rap poison. MTA puts it down sometimes. Not enough. I feel it. The hand on my shoulder. And I know who it is. The guy you never hear coming.

Our boogie man, old boy. Wearing his dusty old army jacket. His hair a little longer than they let him in the army. How you doing old boy? Pages and cream. She wants you. And who holds old boy's leash? Margaret. The mayor of the loose. Of course, she's really more of a queen than a mayor. I mean, I didn't get a fucking vote. It's a long walk to Margaret, and she likes it that way.

I like to give you time to think why you've been summoned. Margaret likes you to know old boys walking in your blind spot. The big-ass green-brained knife on his hip. And when you're at last granted access to the royal mayoral apartments, she wants you to know you're talking to the boss. Imagine the most elegant, expensive hotel bar you ever saw. Not big, but rich. Built back when New York was like, fuck you, we got prettier shit underground than you got in the daylight. Gold everywhere.

Art nouveau stuff. The way they only ever did it in like 1900. And in the middle of all this beauty, on a green velvet couch. Mr. Pecok. Sits dirty, scary-ass Margaret. In a faded bathroom with her brown hair hung around a handsome but tired face, moving slow like a big cat. It doesn't have to hurry for anybody.

But if she does spring, that's your ass. There's something I want you to do for me. Her legs are crossed. One foot bouncing a flip-flop sandal. It's hypnotic. Here's this pink flip-flop you'd expect to see on some Kony Island teenager, but it's hanging off of Margaret McManus' pale, dead foot. I mean, what did that sandal ever do to wind up down here? On that?

Is there something especially interesting about my fucking foot? No, I... your sandal, I was just... You know, Joseph, there's nights I think you might be salvageable. And there's nights I'm convinced you're in Egypt right down to your bones. Can you guess which kind of item I have in now? I don't know. I don't know. Ah, people are always talking nothing to say.

As there will gathering when there's something to be heard. Where I come from? People are thick as fucking stones, but they don't cry about every little thing. Do they? They know who they are and where they belong. They don't have notions. They don't take more than little thing, do they? They know who they are and where they belong. They don't have notions. They don't take more than they need, not of anything. Greed.

That's what fucks things up. That's what gets you noticed. Look here. Canadian tourist and his daughter went missing near the park. She's still gone, but him. Him, they found in a trash can with his eyes plucked out of his head and not a drop of blood in him. That's a family job where I'm a Baptist.

Our family business gets into paper. It becomes my business. We've got a peeler working sloppy and I want him found. A peeler. That's what we call vampires who leave bodies laying around. Peelers. And peeler's get dead, at least in Margaret's territory. She does it herself, or farms it out to the chorus sown as freos in the Bronx. But it gets done.

She takes up a shovel. It's one of those old-fashioned, flat-edged ones. It's never far from her. And she starts sharpening it with a stone. You could cut tomatoes with it. It's basically a routine on a stick. So, what do you want me to do? You're going up by the park tonight, aren't you? How do you...

I've got my eyes open, haven't I? I know you play house with those poor fat cows in your fur. And that's fine. We all get by how we can. You go do what you normally would with those fuckers, but first take a stroll through the park, see if anything looks off to you. See if you see any family. You're not the only one I'm sending.

I stagger you. Can you do that? I can. Good. That'll do. There's a fucking smist. Shit, I didn't see you there, Ruth. That's the point. This fucking smist. It's only as I'm leaving as I notice Ruth grim and still as a Susan B. Anthony dollar.

If old boys the attack dog, she's the palace guard. Ruth's always around Margaret. I don't know what they are to each other. I got some ideas, but if they are that, they're both from a time that doesn't know what they are to each other. I got some ideas. But if they are that, they're both from a time that doesn't talk about it. Good for them. I guess they are.

What's the word? Complimentary. sending out the troops to make sure somebody else doesn't ruin our action. Makes sense. We've got it good. Now you've seen the mayor's place. You want to see my digs? Kind of a letdown after all that phone splendor. But it ain't so bad. Welcome to Shapycock. You know how they tell kids not to play an old refrigerator so they don't suffocate? You can't suffocate when you're dead. This is my fridge.

I like fridge magnets, can't you tell? I mean, you gotta sleep in something, and this unit is pretty boss. Just look at this shade of blue. Turquoise dream, 1965. Must've made every lonely young housewife wet Where does the Hudson just look at it? Just imagine filling it up with chicken salad, pickles. I'm grabbing some money and breath freshener on my way out. It's like a dorm, isn't it? Except it's dark and dirty and full of creeps.

On second thought, maybe it's not so different. Not that I've been to college, but I visited a couple, if you know what I mean. Looks like Svekka's home. He's my neighbor. Kind of an old wet blanket, but that just makes him more fun to victimize. Joseph Pickard. Nice to meet you. How touched I am that out of acquaintances is so familiar that you no longer feel the need to knock before you enter.

And why pause now in your presence? Sit. Or visit must be brief, however, as our Chiefness has told me to go out in search of this undiscipline. Remember, you too, I suspect. Just a minute. I'll give you the attention you deserve I suspect. Just give me a minute. I'll give you the attention you deserve

as I've finished this last letter. Oh, that's right. It's Valentine's Day. You're doing one of your little old lady letters. And in a red envelope too. Rrrr. Let me see. Let me see.

This is not polite. Damn, this is green grass, really. Although you do not know me, I hope you will forgive me for saying that I've been impressed from afar by your charm and bearing. This is a long ass letter. for nookie, it's perfect for you. Hey, when do you get to the, would you mind ever so much if I poke holes in your neck and suck part? And what is she like, 90? She is perhaps 79. That's practically a fucking college girl. You know what that is? Writing letters to people, you're gonna buy asking if it's okay.

Stupid, that's what. This is a, I'm kind word, Joseph, as well as a lazy word. It's a little of the effect of television. What do you know about television? I know that you're addicted to it. That's bullshit, Inspector. You watch it every night. You're predictable.

It's not a good trait in a predator. I'll watch if I want to. And I want to. Well, it controls you. No, I just want to. You have no choice. Fine. I won't watch television tonight.

Are you going to fucking make me promise, George? You promise? Fuck it, sure. I promise. You do not lie to me. As God is my witness. The one thing about God is my witness. He tends to look the other way a lot. At least I hope so.

And if I was really gonna break myself from the tomb, I'd sure as hell wouldn't be on a Tuesday night. That's when all the best shows are on. And I got a great TV to watch them on too. Waiting to see how sweet this set up is. These are the bakers. And this thick piece of veal in the lazy boy is their kid, Mikey. That's me on the couch working on Mrs. Bakers own. You see how I got a towel under it so I don't get any stains on my threads? I'm going out there.

I already did a lap around Central Park like Mark had said. And I didn't see shit. Work time's over. Now, it's didn't see shit. Work time's over. Now, it's dinner and the show. I'm gonna go to bed. How do you like this kid? Even charmed he's a pain in the ass.

Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh shit, Mikey. This is the smartest thing on television right now. You like what? Happy days? Hey.ayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Turn Mikey, scoot your ass over. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. And he stands up sit out Victor Mikey when I bite you it only hurts a little right? Yeah Look like a shot, but shots are good for you, right? Think about that. Why don't you? Well, it's good for me So I poke Mikey sweet meaty neck and drink. Then I bite his dad, who smells

and tastes like hiker rady aftershave, and we watch the rest of my show together. Maybe his fed coves ride about TV rotting at rain. The people will watch a lot of boob to charm extra easy. Also, I would have never picked this apartment if I hadn't seen the light of their big beautiful brand new console set from the sidewalk below. Think about that next time you're at Crazy Eddie's Shopping for TVs. You're buying a light that just might draw in a lonely, hungry, mouth through your window. You see how good things are right now? Want to be great if they stayed like that?

Yeah, fuck me, I guess. The quick stroll through Snowy as Yorker, then down into the 86th Street Station. I have to turn stuff. Then, just for a laugh, walk in the blind spot of a briefcase carrying guy who looks a little like James Cullen. Remember him? That's right.

But back where we started. He doesn't see me at all, even when he turns around. I'm fast like that. Then I see this chick. She's sort of the marker between the easy routine I had before and the ever-wideening ditch of shit on fire that is to come. You ever have a year like that?

The things are just going along fine. And then something wacko comes out of nowhere. And suddenly everything sucks. Sure you have. And I was just about to have it too. Only all I know now is there's this fox standing in front of me. And I want to investigate. So I'd lose the briefcase guy and move through the crowd to stand near her.

I help. Excuse me, sorry. Excuse me. Thanks. So now and behind her is the train pulls up. Real honey of a girl. 21, 22, denim jacket, dirty blonde, fits in her jeans like a packed lunch. Looks a little like that leather

Tuscan Daring Check on Happy Days, but taller. We're standing at about five feet apart, not too many people on the car. She's just about to look at me. I can always tell when you're about to look at me. I smile, she smiles. Our closest neighbor is a Chinese woman reading Danielle Steele. Passion's promise. Don't make me laugh. At 77th, everybody but the Chinese woman gets off our car. I notice some folks getting the next car where the shitty James Connus, including a kid. I'm not really paying attention yet. My focus is still on Leather Tuscadero.

I told you she's not important to the story, but I remember her right down to the buttons because of what I'm gonna see next. I'm about to see one of them, but not yet. Not until Lexington, and we're just coming up on 68th. Happy Valentine's Day. Why would you say that? Why not?

No, it just seems a funny thing to say before I lower anything. Maybe one day you'll want to remember the first thing I ever said to you. Maybe it should be more interesting than hello. And she likes that. It keeps her looking at me, smiling, assessing, all through the 68th Street Stock. The train moves from the lit platform into the dark tunnel, turning windows into mirrors. That part about vampires not reflecting? Bullshit.

We just don't like what we see sometimes. Anyway, leather likes what she sees. My clock will stop young, but living this long, you gain confidence. Her face is close to mine now. The warm, fake fruit smell of chewing gum on her breath. I take her chin in my hand to gently point her mouth down at mine, because we're about to kiss. She darts her eyes at the Chinese woman

to see if she's watching. But I guess Danielle Steele can write the fuck out of a book because the lady's face is eight inches from the page. I put my hand on her ass. She leaves it there. After a second though, she pulls back smiling in the... Wait a second, why is the guy what's going on? Way, that really means.

We'll be fucking soon, but I want you to think I do this all the time. Even though, I probably do this all the time. The train swings around the curve in the dark and the lights flicker. She stumbles in her platform shoes and I catch them. Then something moves in the next car. I look through the portal windows like looking into a fish tank and I see her.

It's a kid, a little girl, holding a raggedy handle. The girl's got long, straight black hair, pale skin. It's pretty, but something's off. She's sitting near it, watered down James Khan. Seems interested in him. Now he looks back at her and stairs. Is this what I think it is? It's all wrong.

And there's something else that's weird. She's in makeup. Like a lot of makeup. Meanwhile, my new girlfriend's oblivious to the drama in the next car. So what's your name? Uh, Joey. The train swerves again in the light flicker. I can still see.

Chinese woman looks up from her book. Something moves in the next train. The dark. Now the girl is next to him. It's like a strobe in slow motion. She's holding the man's hand. Like she's his daughter, but she isn't. She's charming.

A vampire? That young? She looks seven. It's obscene. Turning people is on purpose. But he turned a kid that young for her. Now she looks at me. She looks through. Eyes at once, haunted and haunting.

I can't remember the last time I caught a chill, but I can't run now. The girl gets off at Grand Central with James Khan, but leaves his briefcase. Just leaves it sitting there on the train. That's when I know he's going to die. Two little blonde boys join the girl, one taking the man's free hand, one skipping alongside. Their pale like her. Very pale. I Already know though. I don't know why that's something just shifted like a train changing tracks heading for a wreck Why don't you gonna ask me my name? Huh? No

Fucking dick. Hey happy Valentine's Day I get off the train to follow the kids. Margot wanted to know what's going on. I should really follow. Figure out where they sleep. See how many there are. James Conn looks stunned. Druelling all over himself, but nobody gives them a second glance.

Why would they? This is Grand Central. Harry Christian is danceistatically near a bad lady with a Burger King crown. A drunk is puking in the trash while holding out his slice of pizza so he doesn't get any help. And a happy family is going home. Only the children aren't children. And the dad just took his last train. But then just before I lose them in the crowd,

the little girl looks back at me as if daring me to fall. Won't it be a fun game if I follow? What things will show me if I follow? She holds fake dad's hand with one hand, with the other she holds her doll's foot so it's head drives on the ground. I just watch raggedy's head bounce until they all disappear in a sea of strangers. I don't follow them and it takes me a while to strangers. I don't follow them. And it takes me a while to admit why I don't.

It's because I'm a little, you know. It's hard for me to say this, but I'm scared. This is the best record. Directed by Dan Blank, written by Christopher Buelman, series created by Christopher Buelman, based on his book The Lessor Dead. Executive producers Mark Sturd, Joshua D. Mauer, Christopher Buelman, Minnie Dryford, and Jack Killman.

Producer Alexandra Whitman. Original audio production, music and sound design by Salt. Producer, Ali Strobel. Original music and composition by Benjamin Sterling. Sound design by Christopher Bonus.