Episode 48: Web of Wax

Tom, Lucas, and Chris visit the Web of Wax, an old wax museum that’s been abandoned for almost twenty-five years. The Web of Wax, and its enigmatic owner, Freeman Belasco have a history in Maine, but the closing of the museum and the disappearance of its owner, have left many wondering what exactly happened. Plus, the group discovers something that may connect Belasco to dark occult practices.

Content Warning:  wax museums, occult practices, monsters, blood, cursed jewelry, 

Host: Chris Estes
Writer: Chris Estes & C. E. Talbot
Senior Investigator: Lucas Knight
Senior Investigator: Tom Wilson
Special Guest: C. E. Talbot
Sound Design: Chris Estes
Producer: Megan Meadows

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Transcript

Malevolent Maine

Episode 48: Web of Wax 

Malevolent Maine is a horror podcast, and may contain material not suitable for all audiences. Listener discretion is advised.

INTRO: 

TOM: A robbery that ends terribly for all involved. A lost indigenous site that may be linked to the King Beyond the Desert. And a zoo that mysteriously closed its door thirty years ago.

Hey everybody, it’s Tom here. These are the stories we’ve got coming up for you. We hope you enjoy them. As is always the case, make sure you follow us on social media. If you have a minute, please rate and review the episode wherever you get your podcasts, and if you’d like to help us keep the investigations going, consider heading over to patreon.com/malevolentmaine. There, for a small monthly fee you’ll gain access to hours of exclusive content including our side stories, The Black Tarot, Cardinal Sins, and Witch’s Mark. Thanks!

The room is dark and cavernous. Shadowy figures loom out at you. You see faces you recognize, but their features are twisted and warped, caricatures of the people they once were. Everything stands completely still, even the dist seems to hang in the air, motionless, lifeless. You ask yourself why you ever wanted to come here in the first place. You shouldn’t have come. It’s not wise to disturb a place like this. You should leave now. Suddenly you hear the crash of the door slamming shut and you realize you’re not trapped in the spider’s web. There’s no way out, and there’s something trapped in here with you.

This is Malevolent Maine.

TITLE SEQUENCE

What a tangled web we weave, MMers. Our story today starts, at least in one of Maine’s forgotten attractions: the aptly named Web of Wax. Many of our younger listeners won’t remember the old wax museum that was just off Route 177 in Bridgton, but people of a certain age can still remember the commercials that used to run in the late 80s and early 90s, for Freeman Belasco’s Web of Wax. 

In the commercial, Belasco himself is seen posing with various wax figures of celebrities - he shakes his hips with Elvis, dribbles a ball next to Michael Jordan,  puts his foot up on the prow of a ship next to George Washington, all while inviting guests to visit and pose with celebrities and historical figures alike.

Our listeners may recall that just after poorly moonwalking up to a wax figure of Micheal Jackson, the grainy commercial cut to a darkened castle wall. Smoke or fog drifts in and Freeman Belasco looks comically frightened, hands clasped close to his chest. As the camera pans around the edge of the wall the audience gets a quick glimpse of such ghastly creatures as Dracula, Frankenstein, and the Wolfman. “Don’t forget to visit our new Hall of Horrors!” Belasco intones off camera before breaking into a Victor Price-like cackle.

The unknown terrors that awaited in the so-called Hall of Horrors, and all the nightmares those few seconds induced, have stuck with many Mainers for decades - ourselves here at Malevolent Maine, included.

The Web of Wax closed its doors for good some time around 1998. The building was left abandoned and Belasco himself had disappeared, but that wasn’t the end of the story of Maine’s most famous wax museum.

Over the years rumors have popped up. Stories of strange sounds coming from the old museum, of people going missing, or dark secrets the owner may have uncovered.

Of course many of these are difficult to prove. Lots of these stories start with, “I know it’s true because it happened to a friend of mine’s cousin…” or “My older sister knew a guy who was there the night it happened…” Urban legends are notorious to prove or disprove because much of the information comes second or third hand. While there are no official reports of anyone going missing in the vicinity of the Web of Wax, the stories persist, with many locals swearing to the veracity of their tales.

So what’s the real story of the Web of Wax? Lucas, Tom, and I took advantage of the relatively mild Maine March, and visited Maine’s most notorious wax museum.

[in the car]

LUCAS: I can’t believe we’re actually going to Web of Wax. This is one I’ve wanted to do for a long time.

TOM: Did you ever go as a kid?

LUCAS: No. I always wanted to, but my parents never took me. By the time I was old enough to go on my own it was closed.

TOM: What about you, Chris?

CHRIS: Hmm? Oh, yeah. I went when I was nine or ten. My grandfather took me. He pointed out all the inaccuracies.

TOM: See, I don’t remember it from being a kid. Maybe I just missed it?

LUCAS: You don’t remember the jingle?

[LUCAS & CHRIS sing:]

Step into history, where legends come alive,

In Maine's own wonderland, where dreams revive.

Discover the world in a whole new light,

At Web of Wax, where history takes flight!

Like we said, that commercial is etched into our subconscious.

Freeman Belasco was a short man with a beard and dark hair he kept pulled back in a short ponytail. He had a penchant for wearing white suits, and, at least according to reports, chain smoking Camel cigarettes. 

Belasco was the son of Eddie Belasco, a famed circus performer from the 1940s and 50s. The senior Belasco started as a sideshow performer before working his way up to pitchman, hawking novelties and trinkets. He ran card games, attracted visitors to the sideshow, and eventually started his own small circus troupe - Belasco’s Menagerie, which eventually folded. 

Freeman Belasco grew up traveling with his father and inherited his father’s gifts for persuasion plus whatever meager inheritance was left when his father died in 1965. He bounced around a bit, starting various attraction businesses before settling in Maine and opening the Web of Wax in 1986.

Wax museums have lost a bit of their charm in our modern era. They originally grew out of European funeral customs for nobility. During the Middle Ages the corpses of deceased royalty were often displayed on top of their coffins for funerals. As one can imagine, there are several drawbacks to this kind of display, especially in hot weather, so instead wax effigies were made. Sculptures of the head and hands of the deceased were made, dressed in actual clothing for the service. Then these wax figures were often displayed in tombs or churchs. In time, these became popular attractions for visitors who, most likely for the first time, were able to get an up close view of the kings and queens.

This in turn, led to the establishment of entire museums of wax figures. The most famous of these is Madame Tussaud’s, which to this day still operates over twenty-five museums all over the world.

While wax museums gained some popularity in the 1960s and 70s, the rise of animatronic figures, showcased by various Disney theme park rides and now sold during Halloween to home haunters, largely made wax figures obsolete. Still, Freeman Belasco had a vision for an attraction in Maine, which, especially at the time, was relatively sparse when it came to tourist attractions that weren’t beaches, mountains, and campgrounds.

LUCAS: The Web of Wax was built in a large warehouse-like structure. Belasco had the outside made up to look like stone, like an old castle. Inside, visitors would enter a lobby where videos of Belasco would play, inviting guests to purchase items from the gift shop, as well as tell interesting factoids about some of the exhibits they would see. After paying the entry fee, guests passed through a curtained hallway before entering the museum proper.

Belasco had the fifty figures in his collection arranged by rough themes. The first room had some of the more popular figures. Celebrities like Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presely, and Ronal Regan. As you progressed past this first area, there was the sports room, with famous athletes throughout history, the Hollywood room full of figures of actors portraying their most iconic characters. There was the Ancient History room, where famous historical figures from all over the world mingled. Next was America, which contained the sculpts of not only famous historical Americans like Abraham Lincoln and Ben Franklin, but other cultural icons as well. The last room on the official tour was dedicated to singers and musical performers. 

At the end of the tour was a final room, one that was listed as optional. Another black curtain separated this room from the others and a sign on the wall read: “No Unaccompanied Minors Permitted.”

Behind this curtain was the Hall of Horrors.

[In the car]

TOM: Did you go in?

CHRIS: Yeah, of course I did. I don’t think it was an option. My grandpa wanted me to see everything.

TOM: Is that where your fascination with creepy stuff started?

CHRIS: No. I mean, not really. I was always into that stuff. But… yeah the Hall of Horrors really cemented it for me.

TOM: And now we’re going back…

The Hall of Horrors quickly turned into Belasco’s most popular attraction. There were four wax figures of the horror movie classics - Dracula, Frankenstein’s Monster, the Wolfman, and the Mummy - but he soon added the popular slashers of the 80s: Michael Myers, Freddy Kreuger, and Jason Vorhees. 

But Belasco’s fascination with the dark aspects of society. He also began cultivating a collection of serial killer wax figures. John Wayne Gacy, complete with clown makeup, Ted Bundy, Ed Kemper, and even Jack the Ripper and H. H. Holmes soon prowled the dimly lit scenes at the Web of Wax.

For a time the Web of Wax was a popular summer destination for locals and tourists alike. Freeman Belasco was able to expand the web, adding more figures and updating the scenery. But by the mid 90s popularity began to wane. 

According to bank records, he fell behind on his payments. There were rumors that Belasco began renting the museum out for special groups for off hours shows. There were whispers of late night parties, of strange groups descending on the wax museum and leaving before dawn, and of secret corporate events. There were stories of mafia connections.

All of these are most likely false. As near as we can determine there were no clandestine mob meetings taking place after hours. What we do know is that by 1998 Belasco and the Web of Wax were in serious trouble. The museum closed its door for the final time in September. Some time between then and the new year, Freeman Belasco disappeared. Many in town believed that he boarded up the museum and split town, looking to avoid hefty payments and fines. 

Other more…sinister rumors persisted. There was talk that Belasco had gotten himself involved in magical or paranormal practices. They said he was into devil-worship and had attempted some sort of ritual to erase his mounting debts. Others said that Belasco had already been indebted to this dark force and that whatever it was came calling when Belasco could no longer repay what we owed.

As the stories go one night, Belasco performed a ritual in the Hall of Horrors. Surrounded by the wax figures, Belasco called upon the dark forces he sought to master. But he made some sort of mistake or his ritual was incomplete. Something went wrong and the demonic forces he called upon dragged him to hell. Rumors say the remains of his ritual are still there, and a giant scorch mark stains the floor, all that remains of Freeman Belasco.

TOM: After that the bank locked up the Web of Wax. They attempted to sell it off, but for whatever reasons it never sold. Some say it was its evil reputation, others claim it was just not a very sound investment. Either way, the museum has remained empty for the last twenty-five years. Sure, local kids sometimes sneak in to party or whatever, but by and large it has stood exactly as Belasco left it. Until now. It just so happens that I know a guy who works at the Oxford Savings Bank, which owns the land. Knowing how much this place meant to the other guys, and… well after everything we’ve dealt with, I thought it would be a nice break, if we went and checked it out.

[In the Car]

TOM: So what do you guys think we’ll find?

LUCAS: Beer cans? Cigarette butts? Used condoms? Some rotting wax figures.

CHRIS: Yeah, I don’t expect we’ll find much. The place has been empty for a long time. Anything interesting or relating to Belasco’s disappearance would be long gone by now.

TOM: So you guys do think something… malevolent happened to him?

CHRIS: No. The story is a little too stereotypical. It sounds more like the Hollywood version of how these things go. My guess is he just left. He knew he was in debt for a large sum of money and couldn’t pay it back. He left town in the middle of the night, maybe assumed a new name or whatever. Probably hiding down in Florida somewhere. Maybe dead by now.

LUCAS: Yeah, same. Haunted abandoned wax museum is just a little too cliche.

TOM: But it’s going to be creepy right?

LUCAS: Oh yeah. Haunted abandoned wax museum is definitely high on the creep factor.

CHRIS: It’ll be cool just to see inside. I haven’t been here in years. If nothing else, maybe we’ll get some fun stuff for a Halloween special.

TOM: Are we doing one of those? That’d be cool-

LUCAS: Guys. We’re here.

We paused at the end of the driveway where a heavy metal gate has been locked across. Tom jumped out and unlocked the gate with a key he got from his connection. The Web of Wax is definitely abandoned. Its gray castle-like exterior is chipped and peeling. One portion of the roof looks like its caving in. The windows, which were usually painted black back in its heyday, are all smashed and boarded up. The door is locked with a heavy chain and padlock. It looks like no one has been here in a long time, but just to be sure, we walk around, inspecting the windows and doors, pulling on wood to see if it only maintains the appearance of security.

Much to our surprise, the entire place seems locked down. If any kids have been using the Web of Wax as a hideout, they haven’t been inside in years. Whatever is left of the Web of Wax has been trapped inside for just as long.

Tom selected another key from the keyring, undid the padlock, pulled off the chain, and the three of us entered the Web of Wax, its first visitors in decades.

[Inside the Web of Wax]

CHRIS: We’re here.

LUCAS: Yeah. This is… this is… wild.

TOM: Ugh. It reeks. And it’s colder than I thought.

CHRIS: Well no one’s been here in years and it’s March. It might look like spring out there, but it’s still winter, you know?

The air was stale and musty. It smelled of mold, like a wet basement. The only light in the lobby came from the door, which Tom propped open with a rock he found in the parking lot, but even that couldn't penetrate the corners. I’ll admit, it was a little unsettling, standing there in the dark. We were alone in the museum, but in the dark, it was easy to imagine something lurking in the deep shadows.

TOM: That must have been the gift shop over there. Doesn’t look like there’s anything left. Do you think…are the wax…uh…people…still here?

LUCAS: Only one way to find out.

The black curtain that once divided the lobby from the museum had long been ripped down, but it was too dark to see what lay beyond. Using the lights from our phones we were able to navigate through the abandoned lobby towards the first room.

CHRIS: Oh man, this is just like I remember. You’d walk down this hallway. The walls were painted black, but there were these projections on the walls, like faces of famous people. And there was a VoiceOver explaining what you were about to see. I think it was Freeman Belasco himself. Then you’d get up here and turn the corner

[CRASH]

LUCAS: What the hell was that?

TOM: It was just the rock sliding off the door. Hold on a sec. I’ll go fix it.

______

Tom was right. The door had pushed the rock back enough that it had slid off it, causing the door to slam shut. Lucas and I stood there a moment, while we heard him struggle with the door. He came back a moment later, slightly out of breath, wiping his hands on his shirt.

TOM: I had to find another rock. Should be good now. Wouldn't want to get trapped in here like some horror movie, right?

LUCAS: Shut up.

TOM: Oh, come on. How cool is this? It’s okay to have a little fun.

CHRIS: Let’s go. … Okay, we’re in the first room. The Star Attractions, I think it was called. 

LUCAS: There’s Elvis.

TOM: Jesus. He looks awful. 

The wax figures hadn’t held up very well. Time and whatever elements had gotten into the Web had taken their toll. Elvis’s face had rotted away, parts of it looked as if it had fallen away. Other areas looked as if it had been chewed down to whatever substructure lay beneath the painted surface. The eyes had either fallen out or dissolved somehow. The cheeks were sunken. The wax figure looked cadaverous, like some sort of zombie version of the King.

The others hadn’t fared much better.

TOM: Who is that supposed to be?

LUCAS: Kevin Costner, I think?

TOM: I can’t tell if they made it bad or if it’s just falling apart.

CHRIS: This is freaky. 

LUCAS: Yeah, it’s like being in some sort of…tomb.

Lucas was right. The Web of Wax was silent except for our voices, which echoed back at us. There was dust in the air, but it was heavy. It was hard not to compare ourselves to the explorers who unlocked the great pyramids.

In some places hands and arms had fallen away. Most of the noses were missing. The paint had chipped off in many places. Only a few of them had eyes, but those that did seemed to stare directly at us.

We made our way into the sports room, looking all around, taking pictures and trying to describe what we saw.

LUCAS: Is that supposed to be Larry Bird?

CHRIS: Yeah, see the 33. I’m shocked by how many of these are still intact. I mean -

TOM: Ahhh! Shit. Sorry. Shit. I just bumped into…I dunno, no-head baseball man. I thought…for a minute I thought it was real.

CHRIS: Oh man. You just about gave me a heart attack.

TOM: Sorry. Sorry. 

LUCAS: What were you saying, Chris?

CHRIS: Oh, um, oh yeah. I didn’t think the figures would be in such good shape. I mean, they’re clearly falling apart, but I figured if kids were partying here they’d all be smashed up. Or gone, you know?

LUCAS: Hmmm, you’re right. But did you notice what is missing?

TOM: Beer cans, cigarette butts, and condoms?

LUCAS: Right. This place is clean. I mean, it’s old and falling down, but there’s no… no debris.

CHRIS: Weird.

TOM: Maybe they cleaned it out when they locked it up?

We made our way through the web of wax. We knew we needed to get to the Hall of Horrors. Not only was that where Belasco supposedly disappeared, but to be honest, all of us have the horror bug. We grew up watching scary movies, reading Stephen King, and setting up spooky Halloween scenes. In college Lucas and I hosted a twenty-four hour horror movie marathon open house in our dorm room that eventually got shut down by the RAs because there were too many people. It’s easy to see how our fascination with creepy stuff turned into Malevolent Maine. So a chance to see the fabled Hall of Horrors, even in its current dilapidated state, was too much to pass up.

LUCAS: This is crazy. Look at them all. There’s JFK. I think that’s Nixon. Who’s that one?

CHRIS: Teddy Roosevelt.

TOM: All the dead presidents. It’s freaky, man. Look at them. They’re falling apart. But…I dunno, somehow they seem more alive. Or like they were alive. They look like…

LUCAS: Like mummies.

TOM: Yeah, like those pictures of preserved mummies. Freaky

[CRASH]

CHRIS: That was the door again. I thought you said it was weighed down, Tom.

TOM: It was. I mean, those rocks…

LUCAS: It’s fine. We’re too far now. We’ll be okay. Let’s keep going.

It’s not fair to say the Web of Wax had a hold over us. We weren’t being pulled deeper into the museum…and yet… we all wanted to get to the end. Or rather the center. Somehow the Hall of Horrors didn’t feel like it was the end of the tour, but the heart of the maze. Maybe it was the darkness, the silence, or the legends of Freeman Belasco and his mysterious disappearance, but we had to get to the Hall. We had to see it all for ourselves, and nothing was going to keep us from reaching it.

We moved swiftly through the remaining rooms, hardly looking at the decaying celebrities and historical legends. It was cold in the middle of the Web, whatever warmth the false spring of early March had provided evidently hadn’t penetrated the museum’s core. More than once one of us shivered or rubbed their arms, but whether this was from the actual cold or our nerves, it was hard to say.

The darkness pressed in on us. Our phones cast strange, distorted shadows on the floor and walls, but everywhere the beams of our lights didn’t touch seemed to be thick, almost solid blackness. And yet, later all of us would agree it felt like things were moving just outside our vision, swimming in the dark. 

In the dark, just the three of us, time seemed to slow down, or maybe speed up. Had it been just the last room where we had seen a collapsed piano and the costumed remains of Elton John? Or had that been three rooms ago? How long had we been in the Web?

And then, we made one last turn and without anyone saying anything we all knew. We had arrived at the Hall of Horrors. 

CHRIS: We’re here.

TOM: It’s cold.

LUCAS: You keep saying that.

CHRIS: Look at all this.

LUCAS: This is amazing. Look at those figures.

TOM [in the background, looking at all the displays, Dracula impression]: “I vant to suck your blood!”

LUCAS: They don’t seem as damaged here. Like, they’re in better condition.

CHRIS: You’re right. Maybe the moisture or whatever didn’t get this far?

LUCAS: I don’t know.

TOM [Jason Vorhees impression: kill-kill-kill. Ah-ah-ah.

CHRIS: Look. NO scorch marks. 

LUCAS: No signs of anything. This place almost looks like it could still be open. It…feels weird though.

CHRIS: I feel it too. Something’s wrong. Hello? Is someone here?

[silence for a minute]

LUCAS: I think there’s some sort of presence here. I mean you can feel it-

TOM: Guys! Check it out!

CHRIS: What?

TOM: Who’s this guy supposed to be?

The figure Tom had discovered was tall. He stood nearly as tall as Frankenstein’s seven foot monster. He was dressed in purple pants and some sort of robe or a shirt with a pointed hood. The face of the hood or mask was open, revealing a man with a pointed black beard and severe, arching eyebrows. He wore a knife on his belt, which had several magical and alchemical symbols engraved on it.

LUCAS: I don’t know. He’s dressed like a member of an occult group, but I don’t recognize him. It doesn’t look like Crowley or Spare or Gardner…

CHRIS: Is it HBCC?

LUCAS: I don’t think so. Not like anything I’ve ever seen. 

TOM: I don’t feel so good.  

CHRIS: Yeah, it’s …weird.

TOM: No. Like, I think I’m going to be sick. I feel hot.

LUCAS: I thought you said you were cold.

TOM: Like inside me. 

CHRIS: A fever?

TOM: No, my skin…it’s… I don’t know. What’s…what’s that?

Tom pointed to a necklace or medallion the wax figure wore around its neck. It hadn’t stood out to us before, but up close we could see it appeared to be a flat silver disc with a strange rune or symbol carved into it. Unlike everything else about the figures, there was something… real about the pendant. Where everything else felt like part of a show, not much different to the Spirit halloween store displays that pop up every October, the necklace felt authentic, more…vibrant, somehow.

LUCAs: It looks real.

TOM: Of course it’s real.

LUCAS: I mean, it doesn’t look like a prop. Look at Dracula’s amulet over there. It’s costume jewelry. This looks… real.

CHRIS: And is that blood on it?

LUCAS: Probably rust or water stains. It definitely looks occult.

TOM: Have you ever seen anything like it?

CHRIS: No.

LUCAS: … no.

TOM: Alright. We need to get out of here before I puke. 

CHRIS: Yeah, I’m not feeling great either all of a sudden.

[TOM reaches out to take the necklace]

CHRIS: What are you doing?

TOM: I’m taking this. We need to figure it out, right?

LUCAS: I don’t know if that’s a good idea.

TOM: It’s fine - ow! [Tom pricks his finger on the amulet]. Damn it. Great. It’s bleeding.

[Tom takes the necklace. The wax figure’s head topples off. Everyone gasps/screams/swears/etc]

LUCAS: Okay. Now we really need to go.

CHRIS: Yeah, let’s go.

TOM: Lead the way.

When Tom reached out to take the pendant, he somehow dislodged the head of the occultist. When he lifted off the chain and the head fell crashing to the ground it looked like Tom had beheaded the figure. Still, in a museum that has lain abandoned for over twenty-five years, it’s not surprising that things inside had begun to deteriorate. It startled us, but we didn’t attribute anything supernatural to it. Lifting the necklace shook loose the catch that held the head on, or perhaps over time it had worn away and any disturbance to the figure had simply caused it to come apart.

The other thing that occurred was that Tom managed to cut his finger. It wasn’t a deep cut, not much more than a pinprick to be honest. By the time we left the Web of Wax it had already stopped bleeding. For the life of us, however, none of us could discover the sharp edge that had drawn his blood. The silver disc was smooth and the chain it hung on didn’t appear to have any broken links or other jagged pieces. Whatever had cut Tom may have been on the wax figure itself or perhaps he injured himself another way and only noticed it when he took the necklace.

As for the necklace itself, we spent some time inspecting it after we left the Web of Wax, securely locking the place up behind us. Back in the comfort of our offices, we were able to determine that the pendant was a liberty silver dollar. The front side, or the head of the coin, had been hammered smooth. This is where the strange symbol was carved or engraved. The back, or the tail side, was still intact. It depicts an eagle surrounded by a wreath.

As near as we can tell, and with the help of one of our contacts who deals in specialty coins, this appears to be a “Flowing Hair” silver dollar, minted sometime between 1794 and 1795. In good condition, a coin like this could fetch upwards of 10 million dollars at an auction, but in its current, defaced state was worth much less. Our collector was not able to identify the symbol carved into the front of the coin and said, quote, “I’ve never seen anything like this. Whatever it is…it almost doesn’t appear to be manmade.”

He was right. The symbol was strange. It seemed to twist and flow back onto itself, warping and turning in ways that a flat etching shouldn’t be able to do. The longer you looked at it, the more you became convinced it actually was moving.

The symbol was clearly occult in nature. Magical symbols being etched into coins isn’t exactly an unheard of tradition, but this one was like nothing we had ever seen before. We consulted our books and records, but we weren’t able to find anything that matched it. 

In the end, we turned to another connection, an old friend, who was well versed in all things occult and magical. We’ve used him several times over the years when we encounter something we can’t identify.

C. E. Talbot is in his forties. He’s an expert in nearly all things magical, much of which has come from practical experience. When we sent him pictures of the necklace, he called us back right away.

TALBOT: Where did you find this?  When I first saw the image I balked, knowing that it's impossible. Yet, what IS impossible? Certainly not the writ of quote, unquote, reality! All we need to do is look to all the ancient texts to see that it is as amorphous as the human mind.  In fact, recent scientific research is beginning to show that even what we think of as wakefulness isn't, that parts of our mind are always in the dream realm and when we are what we think of as asleep, parts of our mind are awake. This dichotomy of being is pervasive throughout time and space, even though those are not different things, or things at all, really…

CHRIS: Right. But what about the pendant? 

TALBOT: ...Yes, right, the pendant. This is, in fact, a sigil used in an evocation or invocation ritual, a summoning. High Mages of old used to do this sort of thing to have questions answered or to put these entities to a task for the operator, or operators as sometimes the seer and the summoner are different people, and SHOULD be actually, because it's very easy to be sidetracked by these things sometimes, they are full of guile and always completely literal, so the questioner must be very careful with how things are worded, after all, in the beginning there was the WORD, so they are kind of a big deal. With a seer, there is a gap between the mage and the entity that allows for a bit of critical thinking to take place that can help to avoid issues.

CHRIS: Are you talking about the literal summon of demons?

TALBOT: Words, yes, words always need explaining, even in the best of circumstances. Demons are not what they have been portrayed as in popular culture.  The word comes from ancient Greek, meaning; deity; wise one; genius. They are aspects, really, facets of the thing we call the human soul, through the right means we can call them forth and bind them to the will of the overmind, using them like unleashed superpowers! You could find a buried treasure, learn forgotten knowledge or secrets lost to time...

CHRIS: So, is this real? I mean, is this something that’s actually possible, not just theoretical or philosophical?

TALBOT: Well... aaaah... yeah... I do believe it is possible and that's the thing, the impossible thing. I created that pendant almost twenty years ago. 

CHRIS: Wait! You created this? 

TALBOT: It should have never been seen again. When my operation was complete I performed the closing rituals and disposed of it over the side of a deep sea fishing boat I was on with some friends. It seemed like the perfect place for it to be lost forever. It should have been melted down or crushed to powder but I didn't have access to anything that could melt or break the silver and, honestly I was proud of the work I had done and maybe that pride played a part in how it was disposed of, or, clearly NOT disposed of. Where did you find it? Do you still have access to it? If you can, isolate it and put it into a black wooden box, preferably oak, ebonized and lined with yellow silk after which it needs to be cleansed and finally destroyed. This entity is powerful and if it is free to act under its own will, or being used by someone with less than noble intentions... gods help us.

Talbot wouldn’t say any more. He would only keep insisting that we contain the sigil.

The fact that Talbot claims he created the sigil is interesting. We’ve worked with him in the past and he’s never given us a reason to doubt him. And we can’t see any reason he would lie to us now.

The mystery of how this sigil got from the bottom of the ocean where Talbot tossed it, to the Web of Wax is curious. Did Freeman Belasco knowingly put the sigil on his cultist figure? And if he did, did he know what the sigil was? Where did he get it…and who was the wax figure? It certainly wasn’t Talbot. 

If what he told us is true, then we are beginning to have serious suspicions that whatever happened to the owner of the wax museum may have had more sinister significance than we earlier suspected. Could Belasco have fallen victim to whatever demon or entity the sigil was connected to? 

For now, we’re going to do as Talbot asked. We’ve placed the pendant inside an oak box, lined with yellow silk. But this investigation is far from over. We intend to look deeper into Freeman Belasco and his perhaps occult dealings. We need to figure out who the cult figure Belasco had the sigil on was. And maybe most importantly, we need to figure out how our friend Talbot is connected to all of this. 

We hope to have answers for you in a future episode. Until then, we suggest everyone stay clear of the abandoned Web of Wax. As tempting as it may be to explore this forgotten piece of Maine’s entertainment attractions, if demonic forces are involved, we can’t stress enough how dangerous this could be. There’s no denying we all felt that something was a little off inside the Web. If what Talbot says is true, and the sigil was attached to an entity, it might explain some of the things we felt inside the museum. His words should be taken seriously and a significant warning to anyone who may attempt to traverse the depths of the Web of Wax. 

Stay safe out there, Maine.

Malevolent Maine is Lucas Knight, Tom Wilson, and myself, Chris Estes.

If you’d like to read more about our investigations check out our website at malevolentmaine.com

While there, don’t forget to check our merch store. And, if you’re so inclined, support us on Patreon at patreon.com/malevolentmaine

Thank you for listening to Malevolent Maine.

And as always, stay safe out there, Maine.