Chapter 11: Highway to Hell

On a desolate stretch of highway, Jason and Kat race across the American Midwest with hunters closing in and a demon prince pulling the strings. Sleep-deprived and running out of options, father and daughter are forced into a long-overdue conversation about the past…and the night everything was lost.

With unseen forces probing at their defenses and time running out, Jason sets a desperate course for a place where even demons fear to tread.

All roads lead somewhere. Not all of them lead back.

Signed in Blood is a supernatural horror podcast set in early 2000s America, blending religious horror, dark fantasy, occult thriller, witchcraft, demon bargains, possession, and psychological suspense. Perfect for fans of road trip horror, serialized audio drama, morally complex characters, and slow-burn supernatural thrillers.

CW: Supernatural Violence, Religious Horror

Special Note: Stay tuned after the episode for our monthly Ritual of Thanks—an offering of intention and gratitude for listeners who help keep Signed in Blood alive. Each month, this ritual honors those who support the show and their energy becomes part of the story itself.

Written, edited, produced, and performed by Evan O’Cuana
Intro: “Suspension” by Anna Dager & Hanna Ekström
Outro: “A Hundred Windows” by Back_Drop

Say Hi at evanocuana@gmail.com

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Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Hello, dear travelers. Before we begin, I wanted to remind you that since we're at the end of the month, following today's episode, there will be a ritual of thanks honoring those who donated to the show's Buy Me a Coffee link. If you'd like to take part, feel free to stay after the credits and share in the magic. If you'd like to have your own name added to the spell, receive our blessing and support our growth. That link will be waiting in the show notes for you whenever you're ready. No gift too large, no gift too small. That said, on with the show. Signed in blood is a ritual offering to the keeper of stories per the terms of our pact. Let all parties be aware these are tales of horror. They may not be suitable for all audiences. Listener discretion is advised. Jason blinks heavily, flipping the visor down to shield his tired eyes. Kat stirs briefly from the passenger seat, then nods back off. They'd left Glenwood Springs a few hours ago and are just now crossing the border into Wyoming. They'll hit Laramie in another hour, and from there ride I-80 until they can find a back road, or several, to Sioux City. It's a roundabout way that makes no sense on paper, but that's entirely the point. Stolis might be able to tell the Jamies where they've been, but unless Jason says their final destination out loud, there's no way the rat bastard will be able to guess. He can't read minds. Can't read Jason's mind, at least. He unconsciously squeezes the wheel, Kat's words echoing in his head from last night. Stolas had kept her prisoner in her own mind, smiling to Jason as he did so. Not for the first time, he feels the weight of the dagger on his chest. There aren't many weapons that can harm a demon prince, but the relic that his patron entrusted to him most certainly can. He'd spent much of the morning fantasizing about how it would feel to drive the blade straight into the traitor's neck. It would be a monumentally stupid move and would almost certainly cost both he and Kat their lives. But it had distracted him and gave him something to do with his rage. She'd told him a lot last night, though he could tell there was more. A question buried just behind her eyes and beyond her tongue, but a question that was coming soon. If he'd been in a better headspace, he might have been able to coax it out of her. But he was exhausted, and the weight of his encounter with the odd fellows had been heavy on his mind even before she had dropped her bomb. All he could do in the moment was hug her tightly, thank her for telling him, and promise they'd talk more once they were on the road. Shenice had been waiting for them in the kitchen when they shambled down the stairs before sunrise. There had been breakfast bars and oranges on the counter for them both, a thermos of coffee for Jason, and sack lunches all ready to go. He wasn't sure why he'd been surprised. His sister-in-law's gaze never missed much, apparently even when asleep. Where will you go? she'd asked him. Still figuring it out. But I've got an idea. Shanice looked at him, her eyes searching his in that moment before nodding. Remember what we talked about? She was referring to how she'd told him in no uncertain terms that if he put Kat in the path of a demon again, then Shanice would take her from him. She'd come close to making that threat before, but had always backed off before things got that heated. Kat must have told her the whole story first. Looking back on it now, Jason couldn't fault either of them. She'd hugged him goodbye, charging him to take care of himself and, more importantly, of Kat. He'd held her a moment longer than he meant to, this woman who had oftentimes been an adversary, but who had taken care of him and was one of the last living links he had to his wife. Then he thanked her and let Kat say her goodbyes in private while he warmed up the Camry. Dad, Kat says from the passenger seat, you're grinding your teeth again. It's gross. He laughs in spite of himself. Good catch, kiddo. Welcome back. Thanks. You know where we're headed yet? He sighs. I'm getting there. There aren't a lot of good options. Well? What about some bad ones? Ha. Plenty of those. But if we play our cards right, we might be able to make that work to our advantage. She fiddles with Artie Jackson's bracelet, turning it slowly around her wrist. He noticed she'd started doing that lately when she got nervous. Dad, she says after a while, you said we could talk more in the car. I did. So now? He tries not to show how dearly he'd prefer doing anything else. Sure, Kit Kat. If I ask you questions, will you answer them? Like honestly? I'll tell you what I can, Kat. She pauses, then nods. How bad is it? The trouble we're in. He's quiet for a moment. It's bad. They've sent a pair of very powerful hunters after us. And Stolis is guiding them so there's nowhere we can hide for long. How do you know all that? He grimaces for an instant, hoping she hasn't noticed. I made contact with a very old demon who doesn't take sides. And Kat, there's something I'm gonna tell you that's gonna be hard to hear. I wasn't gonna mention it, but I know it took a lot for you to tell me what happened to you. So you deserve the truth. He pauses. The McCaffreys are dead. Killed by the people looking for us. They're not interested in taking prisoners. He sneaks a look at her face. Her jaw is set in the same resolute way that reminds him of Alicia. Inside she's storming, but her gaze is focused. They killed him because of us? Because of me, Kiddo. You had nothing to do with it. They want to kill me, Dad. They're hunting both of us. Not everything is about you. She says it like a seasoned cowherd cracking a whip, the words flowing smoothly until the final lash cracks. He recoils in surprise, once again seeing the glimpse of her mother's spirit in her. All he can do is to remember to pick up his jaw. That's fair. I guess I haven't looked at it like that. No, you didn't. You still talk to me like I'm five, like I can't possibly understand what's going on. This is my life, Dad. I deserve to know. She has him nailed, and they both know it. That sinking feeling in his gut returns, the icy cold. No, stop it. What? You're doing that thing again. That thing you do where you look guilty and then get quiet, like this is all happening to you, and and I'm just I don't know. Here. I hate it. Just stop. I don't know what you want me to say. You can tell me the truth. All of it. You can stop looking at me like I'm gonna break or like I'm broken or something. I'm strong. Kat, I know you are, he says. But you shouldn't have to be. She throws her hands up. So what am I supposed to do? I don't know. He raises his voice just a hair, but catches himself. He lets his breath out slowly. I don't know, Kit Kat. I know I'm supposed to. I'm the parent. I'm supposed to have answers, and half the time I'm out here with no idea what I'm doing and hoping to God you don't notice. But you pick up on everything and he starts laughing. And I'm sorry. I know you are. You keep telling me I don't ask you to. You don't, he agrees. So ask me what you want to ask. Why? Why? Why were you in the order? she asks, eyes trained on him. You told me why you left. Never said why you joined. Not the question he'd been expecting. He flips the windshield wipers on as a light snow begins to fall. Did I ever tell you I had sisters? And a brother? She looks at him, dumbfounded. Never. Yeah. They were killed when I was a kid. Our family was attacked by a magic user. Only my dad and I survived. It wasn't long after that I was brought into the order. Why don't you ever talk about them? It hurts to think about. I was lost for a long time, and the order gave me something to hold on to. Something to focus the pain on. Like I could give them justice. He laughs at this, a bitter edge to his voice. I actually thought they cared about helping me. He transitions into the left lane and speeds past an old man in a pickup truck. When I met your mom, she became the only family I needed. When you came along, it was more than I could have dreamed of. Wait, do I have a grandpa? Is he still alive? Not to me, Jason says with such venom that Kat doesn't recognize him for a moment. Okay. I'm sor He catches himself mid-apology and laughs. Ugh. That's a tough habit to break. Families are hard, Kit Kat. My dad and I didn't get along even before before we lost everything. Sometimes tragedy pulls a family together. This wasn't that. I promised myself if I ever got the chance to be a parent, I'd do better. If you ever become a parent, I'm sure you'll make the same promise. Good news is that the bar's on the floor. I don't maybe I'll get a cat? He laughs hard at this. Maybe you will. Once we solve this problem with the order, I'll get you a cat. Or a dog. I don't like dogs. Got it. No dogs. Let's hope Shanice and the family aren't allergic. Dad? Yeah, Kit Kat. She goes quiet, her hands still fiddling with the bracelet. Outside the car, the wind picks up. She stares out the window, watching a flock of birds scatter from a power line as they pass. When Stolis trapped me in my head, he showed me the night we left the old house. I saw mom again. She pauses, her eyes watering slightly, then pushes forward. It was really nice. He reaches over and puts a hand on her shoulder, gripping gently. Wow. That must have been a lot. She really loved you, Kiddo. I know. She chokes back a sob. I could see it. But Dad I saw something else too. When you came in and took me, she was gone. It all happened really fast, but when I followed you downstairs, I saw She stops, not quite sure what to say next. What did you see? The walls. The walls were covered in blood. Not a little. It was like a big splash, like someone had taken a giant bucket and thrown it. She feels his hand tense and looks at him. He's gone quiet, staring straight ahead with an expression on his face she doesn't recognize. Dad. What happened that night? Really? You never talk about it. He hears her. He can feel her looking at him, knows she's expecting an answer. He's known this was coming for years. One would think during all that time he would have figured out something to tell her. Honestly? Kit Kat. I don't know. That doesn't What? You don't know. How can you not know? He lifts his hand from her shoulder to turn up the heating slightly before putting it back on the steering wheel. That was the worst night of my life, he says after a while. Your mom and I had been dodging the Jamies for a few years before you were born. Used to be fun. Almost like a game, he scoffs. When you were born, we had to get serious. We tried settling down in a place we thought no one would look for us. Tried everything we could think of to lie low. For a while we thought we'd done it. We were hopeful. I think it made us sloppy. Still not sure how they found us, but a pair of them broke in one night and attacked. You were asleep upstairs. Your mom had warded your room for sounds so you'd be able to sleep through the night. For a second there I thought we were gonna handle it, but then I saw the sinister fire accurse at your mom. At this, a sudden gust of wind buffets the Camry, rocking the car slightly. Kat grips the passenger seat. My body moved before I could think, he says. I jumped in front of her, felt the blast hit me. Hurt like hell. Worse than anything, I knew right then and there that I was done. Felt myself falling. Last thing I can remember before the blackness was your mom screaming. He looks like he's about to tear the steering wheel out by the root, like pulling a steel and leather dandelion up from hard earth. She doesn't say anything, waiting as his shoulders slowly start to relax. And then there I was, awake, uninjured, and alone. The house was dark. Everything smelled like ozone, like right after a thunderstorm. The walls were covered in blood. For a second I thought they must have killed you both, but when I went to check on you, there you were. A miracle. I wanted to scoop you up in my arms right then, but by that time I was crying too hard. Once I calmed down, I knew what I had to do. You know the rest. So you never saw mom's body? Do you think there's a chance, baby girl? I can't tell you how many nights I've stayed up praying for that, he says. The first year was the hardest. I saw her everywhere. But no. Your mom might have been the most powerful witch who ever lived. If she was still alive, there wouldn't be a force in heaven or hell that could keep her from you. He sighs again. From us. No, she's gone. Since you and I were left behind, she and the Jamies probably killed each other in one go. I'm I wish I could tell you different. I really do. Yeah, she says, trying to keep her voice level. They ride in silence for a while, the snow swirling around them as they hurtle down the highway. After a while, she turns to him. Hey Dad? Yeah, Kit Kat. Thank you for telling me. I'm happy I still have you. I'm happy you're my dad. His eyes water, and he reaches back out and squeezes her shoulder. Thanks, kiddo, he whispers. It's then that she remembers the last thing she'd been hoping to talk with him about. The other question that Stolis had left in her mind like rotting tissue in an infected wound. But looking at her dad's face just now and feeling the warmth of his hand, she holds her tongue. He went farther today than she thought he would. She can be patient. There's still time. The next two days pass in a blur. Their rest stops become less and less frequent, and the urgency of getting back on the road increases each minute they spend away from it. Meals are grabbed from drive-through windows. Motel stops for sleep give way to quick naps while parked on the shoulder. He tries his best to reassure her that everything is okay. She tries her best to convince him that she believes that. Laramie, Wyoming soon becomes North Platte, Nebraska, which cedes ground to Sioux City, Iowa, before giving way to Mankato, Minnesota. She stopped asking where they're going, confident at least that he knows the answer. The journey is wearing on him, the dark circles under his eyes looking heavier by the hour. She wishes she could help, that she was old enough to take the wheel herself. But now isn't the time for a driving lesson. Now's the time to push forward. Keep quiet. Help by distracting him only when he asks for it, which he does less and less frequently. She catches him studying the rear view mirror more and more. She tries to subtly lean so that she can try to catch a glimpse of the mirror. Of headlights in the side mirror, or pretend she's searching the back seat for something. She doesn't notice anyone following, but then again, she doesn't know what to look for. A black-crowned Vic like in Men in Black? Right now, all she sees are trucks and minivans, each one pretty much like the last. The Camry feels like it's shrinking, the smell of stale fries mixed with the scent of the gas station coffee her father is putting away like it's pure water. She'd give anything for a hot shower, a warm bed, a dream that doesn't involve running from the shadows that lengthen and warp, grasping for her like drowning men. Or maybe just the quiet dark where no dream enters. As her tired mind yearns, the dreamless sleep that has been stalking her finally takes her unawares. As she lies there, snoring gently in the passenger seat, the black stone bracelet on her wrist hums warmly as it repels the unseen fingers, searching for a way into her sleeping mind. Her father, lost in tunnel vision as he makes the final push to Wisconsin, shifts behind the wheel, slapping himself lightly to maintain focus. If he can keep pushing, they should reach the driftless area in a few hours. There, they'll be shielded from Stolis's vision, by themselves a little time before the Jamies catch up. He'd made a promise to Shanice, or at the very least, he'd agreed to her terms. He'll do his best to make sure Kat is kept out of the way of the demon that rules over Ardent Hollow. But it's a fine needle to thread and he'll be doing it blindfolded. The plan is monumentally stupid, but if they need to hide from a demon prince, he can't think of any place better than in the court of the princess. Really, though, it's just trading one danger for another. This is his life, trading peace for time, bartering and selling bits of himself in the hope that his daughter might not have to. Measuring each meager gain against the mountain of loss. He swerves slightly, his eyelids growing heavy. Another slap, this time harder. Kat stirs softly in the seat next to him, but doesn't wake. Eyes on the prize, Jason. He straightens up and drains the last of the cold coffee from the styrofoam cup resting in the holder next to him. That's right. The prize. Ardent Hollow isn't just another temporary shelter. It's a tomb guarding something that might give them the edge when the Jamies come to call. If he can stay one step ahead for just a little longer, there might finally be a way out. For both of them? Can they survive long enough to turn the tide against the shadows that hunt them? Or will Ardent Hollow become a tomb in more ways than one? Answers await in two weeks, dear travelers, as all roads converge in Wisconsin. This episode was written, performed, produced, and mixed by Evan Okuna. Our intro music is by Anna Dagger and Hannah Ekstrom. Outro music is by Backdrop. You can find more at Signedandbloodcast.com. If you liked what you heard, follow and subscribe on your favorite podcast platform. It makes a huge difference for an indie show like this. Want to feed a little energy back into the magic that keeps Signed and Blood alive? Leave a rating or a review. For those who wish to go further, there's a Buy Me a Coffee link in the show notes. Every bit helps, and I'll send you blessings through my Chaos Magic practice during our monthly ritual of thanks. If you'd like to hear what that sounds like, stay tuned. We've got this month's ritual coming in just a moment. Thank you for listening. Until next time, keep your eyes open, your focus steady, and your intentions signed in blood. I open this circle in the name of the keeper of stories. If you're still here, fellow travelers, thank you. This ritual is for those who help keep this show alive. This show is a ritual offering, joyfully created and freely given in the grand tradition of the storytellers who have come before us. I know that there are plenty of things vying for your attention and support, and by feeding a portion of that here, you share in the creation of this story. As thanks, I give you my intention, attention, and time. Tonight we have a new name to enter in the record of this magic working. Cage, this is for you. You gave freely, without expectation of reward, at a moment when this work needed it. You helped add another strand to the web of stories that connects us all. For these things and more, you have my sincerest thanks. I cannot say what form this thanks will take. That part of the story is unwritten. But I will say this: May the weariness of the road melt from your shoulders whenever you look upon the faces of those whom you love. May your spirit be nourished by all that life has to offer, and may your purpose reveal itself when you are ready to receive it. May the shadows of the past be forgotten, and the bounty of the present always bless your path. And so it is and so it shall be, and so it is and so it shall be, and so it is and so it shall be. Thank you for listening, dear travelers. May the road ahead deliver you safely until we meet again.