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| 0:00.0 | My name is B. T. Harmon. In 1985, a group of men in downtown Atlanta made an unusual discovery in the basement of an abandoned building. That discovery would change my life. Of course, I didn't know that then because I was a three-year-old eating lucky charms and watching my favorite TV show, Fragal Rock. |
| 0:24.4 | I lived with my family in a small Texas town 800 miles away. |
| 0:29.0 | My name was different than two. |
| 0:31.4 | Today, I live in Atlanta, a city best known for its civil rights history. |
| 0:37.3 | History is often bloody, naked, and depressing. |
| 0:40.6 | And as it turns out, bloody, naked, and depressing |
| 0:43.0 | doesn't make it into high school history books. |
| 0:46.1 | But this isn't a story about the civil rights struggle of the 1960s. |
| 0:51.5 | This story is about the world that existed before all that. It's a world of ink and blood. |
| 0:59.6 | It's a world of cursed land and lying journalists. It's a world of spy machines and secret |
| 1:05.6 | vaults. It's a world of fine ladies and gowns and mysterious madams of the night. |
| 1:11.4 | It's a world of deranged doctors, crime-solving astrologers, and midnight stalkers. |
| 1:17.7 | It's a world of justice, sought but rarely found. |
| 1:22.0 | This is the story the adults tried to hide from us. |
| 1:26.2 | My name is B.T. Harmon, and this is Catlick. |
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