True Terror with Robert Englund (2020–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - Fear the Unknown - full transcript

Hidden away in news reports

from America's past

are tales so frightening
that they must be true.

I'm Robert Englund.

Join me on a journey
into the dark shadows

of our nation's history
to uncover a trilogy of stories

as terrifying as they are real.

A mysterious creature invades
the Old West.

- Come on!
- Sam!

A future president

enters a savage beast's
domain...



No!

...and a merciless demon

has villagers living in fear.

- Jane, come on!
- I'm trying!

Brace yourself

for "True Terror."

Now, it's been said the oldest
and strongest kind of fear

is fear of the unknown.

You want proof?

In the three stories I have
for you now,

you'll see that
it's a basic instinct

that can save
or cost you your life.

Our first stop
is Tombstone, Arizona,

best known for the gunfight
at the O.K. Corral,



but just nine years after that
the Tombstone press

reported something far,
far scarier --

a threat that wasn't man,
but beast.

Looks like you need a drink.

Whiskey.

54-year-old Ezekiel Bates

has cheated death more times
than he can count.

Two for a quarter.

But they all pale in comparison

to the inexplicable horror

he's faced over
the past 72 hours.

What ails you, pilgrim?

You wouldn't believe me anyhow.

Try me.

Well, I reckon it all started
about three days ago.

We was out east
of the Huachucas.

Recounting some
memories can be as painful

as walking barefoot through
a nest of scorpions.

The time Bates stared the devil
in the face

would be one of those.

We were just wrapping up
about a six-week cattle drive.

Ranchers Ezekiel Bates
and Sam Dawson

had been working together

for 20 years
in this part of Arizona.

These guys had survived
cattle stampedes,

rattlesnake bites,

lynch mobs,
and renegade Indians.

Whoo.

It's hot enough to gag a maggot.

At least we got a cold bath
and bottle of whiskey

waiting on us
when we get to Tombstone.

I'm looking forward to that,
brother.

We're talking about two old
cowboys here

that have seen everything
the old west has to offer.

But then there came the day

when two men who didn't believe
something could exist

inevitably realized that it did.

Cloud.

There's a break.

That ain't no cloud.

What the hell is that?

Darned if I know.

Being that they are cowboys,
their first instinct

when coming upon
this strange creature

was to take a shot at it.

In this case,
this is a huge mistake.

Whatever that thing is, it was
minding it's own business.

Now they've poked the monster
with the proverbial stick.

Man.

What they saw that day
was nothing short

than the stuff of legends.

"A winged monster, resembling
a huge alligator

"with an extremely
elongated tail

"and an immense pair of wings,

was found in the desert
by two ranchers."

God almighty!

You okay Dawson?

I'm okay.

What the hell was that?

I ain't never seen
nothing like it.

Thank you.

This thing, whatever it is,

swoops right in
and kills their horses.

Now, Bates and Dawson,

they're just not stranded
in the desert,

they also believe
they're next on the menu.

Go get your gun!

Steady.

Fire!

Come on!

We didn't touch it!

"After the first shock
of wild amazement had passed,

the two men regained sufficient
courage to pursue the monster."

"Pursue the monster."

Not sure I'd call
that a bright idea,

but desperation can drive men
to the extreme.

Problem is, if they're
not careful,

curiosity will get them killed.

God.

For the first time, the cowboys
get a look at this creature,

and what they see stuns them.

We're talking about
a 92-foot wingspan,

and 160 feet tip to toe,
and those jaws!

Back up. Back up.
Back up. Back up.

Terror is never more intense

than when there's no place
to run and no place to hide.

Sam!

Like any cowboy worth his salt,

Ezekiel Bates always felt at
home in the Arizona desert.

That is, until the day
a dragon swooped down

and took his friend
Sam Dawson away.

Sam!

Now, Ezekiel Bates
is standing there

in the middle of nowhere,

powerless to stop
the winged beast

from making off with his friend.

It doesn't take him long to
realize he's the next target.

That's when,
off in the distance,

he notices a prospector's
abandoned shack,

and he's thinking,
"If I get there,

I can probably hide
and protect myself."

Yes, but how does
one truly believe they're safe

if they can't comprehend
the severity of the situation?

The monster in a crisis is fear,

and when forced
to face it alone,

there's a good chance
it will devour you.

Though before it does,
it stalks and taunts it's prey,

taking ruthless delight
in your terror.

Bates makes it safely
through the night,

but the next morning
he's consumed

with a fear that this dragon
is going to find him

until he sees evidence
to the contrary.

So, Mr. Flying Lizard,

it appears you can be hurt.

If I can hurt you,

yeah, then I can kill you.

At this point, Bates believes
his only chance to survive

is to attack,

so he starts following
the trail of blood,

hoping to find the creature.

But there is a huge problem.

He only has one bullet left.

One...

two...

...three!

And I swear to God

that's exactly what happened.

Some big fairytale, guy!

Bates' account
leaves Tombstone residents

a bit skeptical

until he produces
the evidence to prove it.

An expedition is sent out
to review the creature's body

so that it can be sent east
to be examined

by the eminent
scientists of the day.

When the group arrives to where
Bates claims the creature fell,

they find nothing.

what became of it
is a total mystery,

and nothing like it has
ever been seen again.

The unknown frightens us

because it can strike
from anywhere,

but it terrifies us most
when it emerges from the places

we think we know best.

Just as the cowboys in Arizona

confronted an unknown menace
in their own backyard,

so did hunters roaming
the Montana wilderness.

In 1883, something was
lurking there,

described as half human
or half devil,

some great goblin beast.

Now, those aren't just the words
of some science fiction writer

but Theodore Roosevelt,
America's 26th president.

At the time, 25-year-old

Roosevelt is a well-respected
state assemblyman from New York.

18 years will pass
before he becomes president.

Weary of dodging bullets
in the political arena,

he's come to Montana

to take aim at big game
on the wild frontier.

- Nice shot, sir.
- Yeah.

Among Roosevelt's hunting party
is his guide,

a weather-beaten old
mountain man named Bowman.

Doing all right,
Mr. Roosevelt?

Indeed, sir.

These mountain men
were frontiersmen

who spent almost their entire
lives in the wilderness.

They were hunters
and beaver trappers,

and these were
the first white men

to explore the wild
and remote areas

of the American continent.

They became icons
of the American culture.

Mr. Bowman?

What is that?

That's something I never
want to hear again.

Thought that was relegated
to memory alone.

On this night,
Bowman shares a story

that mesmerizes
the future president.

Roosevelt will later
chronicle it

in a best-selling book.

40 years ago, Jones and I
were out trapping.

Good shot.

Bowman was on a fur
trapping expedition.

He was with another trapper
named Jasper Jones.

No other frontiersman dared
enter this pocket

of the Montana wilderness.

This area is said to have
an evil reputation.

The story goes that
an earlier trapper

was eaten alive
by some unknown beast.

These mountain men
were not concerned

with any man-eating
beast legend.

These guys had ice water
running through their veins.

And that day they set up camp,

and then headed out
to trap some beaver.

Come on.

As Bowman and Jones
ventured deeper into the woods,

they get the uneasy sense
that they are being watched.

Little do they know,

they're about to learn
a terrifying lesson,

if you're going to spit
in the face of superstition,

you must be careful
where you spit.

In 1883,
young Theodore Roosevelt

and his hunting party
are mesmerized by

a chilling account told to them

by an elderly Montana
mountain man.

We heard this shriek,
this scream.

This sound, it just cut to you.

The first time I heard it
I thought it could be a bobcat.

It could be something. I...

40 years earlier,
in the same remote forest,

he and his partner were stalked
by a mysterious creature.

Bowman swears that every
iota of this story is fact.

That day, 40 years ago,
Bowman and his partner, Jones,

were running from this
mysterious creature

that saw them as its next snack.

Bowman and Jones had heard
all about this creature

from other hunters,

but they assumed
it was just a myth,

and as the hours
pass without incident,

they had no reason
to believe otherwise.

Everything changes the moment

they get back to their camp.

Someone or, more accurately,
something has been there.

Damn bears.

Weren't no bears.

Look!

The two veterans
of the wilderness have no clue

what kind of creature
has invaded their camp.

Whatever it is, it's enormous
and walks upright on two legs.

That buck's got
to weigh 300 pounds.

Didn't get up there by himself.

The mountain men must
face the cold, hard truth --

They're trespassers
in the domain of a beast

the likes of which
they have never encountered,

and it's a natural-born killer.

There was a deer ripped
stem to stern

laying up in the branch.

No animal can do that.

Legends are born out
of human need to provide

an explanation
for the unexplained,

but let's be clear,

Bowman's story is far more
than a precautionary tale.

We went on back to camp.

When the darkness set
in that night,

an uneasy sense
came over he and Jones,

as if they're being watched
by menacing eyes.

It's not long before
they can feel the creature.

It's so close,
they can smell it.

Smell is the most
primal of our senses.

It's often our first
warning of danger,

something no one should ignore.

Whatever Bowman smelled
worried him enough to get up

and take a shot,
causing the creature to retreat,

but whatever it was made
it known clearly

that it was not happy.

I believe the creature's sounds

were a deliberate effort
to taunt these men.

It was almost like
psychological warfare,

and it was working.

These mountain men had spent
their whole lives as hunters,

and now the shoe
is on the other foot.

They were in the crosshairs
of a monster.

I'm not sure what it was,
gentleman.

We were mystified.

We did not know
what was becoming of us.

Next day I was out
looking for this beast.

I remember I stopped
at a stream,

and reaching down into
the stream to fill my canteen,

and I see a silhouette
in the water.

I look up.

Nothing there.

And then I hear more shrieks,
screams.

I got back to camp as fast
as I could,

then I see the beast.

Jones!

We've all heard the phrase

"a fate worse than death."

One definition of that fate
is to see death coming,

know it will be horrifying,
and yet be powerless to stop it.

In 1843, a Montana
mountain man named Bowman

is as the mercy of a mysterious,
bloodthirsty beast.

After witnessing his hunting
partner's brutal death,

he awakes to discover that
his own life hangs by a thread.

The amazing thing about
this encounter

is that it's consistent
with the key elements

of every Bigfoot sighting.

It's said to have happened
over 160 years ago.

That would make this one of
the earliest Bigfoot sightings

ever chronicled.

The huge footprints,
the 8-foot-tall hairy biped,

the horrible stench --

it checks all the boxes,
and very importantly,

this account is handed down
to us by Teddy Roosevelt,

as credible a source
as you could ask for.

Gentleman,
I don't know what it was.

The smell of it,

a horrible smell.

The sound of it,

I'll never forget it.

Bowman's story leaves
the hunting party speechless.

Roosevelt himself wonders is it
the truth, or a tall tale?

I could prove this to you.

Look here, Mr. Roosevelt.

Check that out right there.

Look at the butt
end of it there.

That hair is from that beast,

and if he's still out there,

we're in for a world of trouble.

Roosevelt writes that Bowman's
account truly impressed him.

Who knew that one of our
greatest presidents

would be a key part
of a Bigfoot narrative?

Mr. Roosevelt?

It's sack time, sir.

No story haunted
Roosevelt's memory

like Bowman's,

in which the pursuers
had become the prey.

File this story under M
for monster,

and on your next camping trip,

ignore any strange noises
at your own risk.

You need to beware of more
than just the bloodcurdling

howls that
Teddy Roosevelt's heard,

for there was another sound
that long petrified residents

of a rural Pennsylvania town,
one the press described as

"piercing shrieks, as if demons
were engaged in battle."

Hey!
I can't walk any faster.

Of course. I'm sorry.

It's a warm summer night,

and 18-year-old Nathan Walsh

is walking his sweetheart,
Jane Parker,

home fm church social.

If you're worrd ouwh
my father will say, it's...

What? No.

Okay.

Of course, Nathan is
afraid of Jane's father, Cyrus.

It's already past Jane's curfew.

Hey, it's nothing
to be afraid of.

Right.

Come on.

But what he doesn't know yet

is that there is something
lurking in these woods

that is far more dangerous
than Cyrus Parker.

My god!

Is that Mr. Freed's dog?

What happened?

A wolf?

Maybe?

Jane and Nate's walk takes them

by the property
of a local farmer,

but finding
the farmer's dead dog

is just the start
of a horrifying night.

What was that?

This is no ordinary sound
from an ordinary animal,

and not only can they not
identify the sound,

they can't identify
where it's coming from.

What they can be sure of

is that whatever it is,

it's closing in.

In 1881, the hideous
howls of an unknown predator

send Nathan Walsh
and his girlfriend,

Jane, running for their lives.

Nathan and Jane aren't
that far from her house.

All they need to do is get to
the other side of the clearing,

and through the front door.

Jane, come on!

I'm trying!

Come on!

I'm trying!

Jane!

Dad, god,
there's something out there!

We don't know what it is!

Mr. Parker,

this thing or things,

they chased us.

I've never heard or see
anything like it.

Mr. Parker, your goat.

Whatever lurks outside
their home,

it now has Nathan,
Jane, and her father, Cyrus,

trapped inside, and it wants in.

The unknown demons
vanish into the night.

But the danger remains,

and not just for Nathan,
Jane, and Cyrus.

"Big Beaver Township became
under a reign of terror.

"Sometimes the sound
would come from the underbrush

"at the roadside,

and at others from the tops
of the highest trees."

After that night, there are
still reports of these

unknown beasts roaming
the woods of Big Beaver.

So now, with widespread fear
gripping the community,

the mayor calls a town meeting.

Just tell us what it is!

Look, there's no reason
to panic.

The town is split over
what this thing is.

Half of the people believe
it's some kind of wild animal.

The other half believe it's
some sort of demon entity

haunting their woods.

It's not an animal!

It's a curse!

This is a time and place

where there's a deep belief
in the supernatural.

People believe in signs
and omens,

and that satanic forces
all around them,

and that this beast
is a manifestation of the devil.

We need to see what
this is first

before we panic, all right?

We're gonna wait until we
have one of our children killed?

To rid the Township
of the menace,

the town elders
call upon Pennsylvania's

most renowned hunter,
David Musser.

He's bagged everything
from bears to cougars,

all sorts of stuff.

If anybody can track and kill
this creature, Musser can.

I can kill any beast there is.

You all don't have to be afraid
anymore.

I can promise you that.

Now, who will join me?

I'll go.

Not without me.

On Thursday,
February 24th, 1881,

the legendary hunter,
David Musser,

and three brave volunteers
head into the woods.

The area they were in was near
Big Beaver Township.

They had entered the woods to
hunt down this unknown menace.

As brave as
David Musser is reported to be,

he's never experience
anything this evil before.

I dare to say no one has.

Under the cover of a full moon,

renowned hunter David Musser

leads a party
into the Pennsylvania woods.

His strategy is to lure
the mystery creatures

that have been tormenting
Big Beaver Township

with live bait,
while his gunmen lie in way.

Let me try it over there.

Musser's partner leads
their bait

towards a clearing
beyond the tree line.

We should get in position.

When he comes back, then.

Musser is used to running
into the teeth of danger,

but these farmers are fighting
their natural instincts

to run in
the opposite direction.

Well, here's the goat.

Where's Ezekiel?

You saw it?

That thing is evil.

In an instant,
David Musser and his group

go from being the hunters
to the prey.

Look!

Stop, stop.

Something's not right.

Among the four men,

an unsettling
sensation sinks in --

have they been lead
purposefully to this spot?

Nathan, move.

That night, Musser kills
this demon in the woods.

It turns out to be
a black panther.

He claims this has been
the creature

terrorizing this community.

The horrible howling,
the orbs glowing in the night,

the dead livestock.

Could a wild cat
really do all of that?

The people of that area,
they weren't buying it.

There haven't been accounts
of wild cats in this area

for decades,

and they don't make
the kind of shrieking noises

that this creature
supposedly makes.

My god.

We may never know
exactly what prowling

in those Pennsylvania woods,

the Montana wilderness,
or the Arizona desert,

so count these mysterious beasts

among the unknowns
that haunt and terrify us.

Yet another reason for you
to stay vigilant.

That is, until our next descent
into "True Terror."